I transmigrated into the body of a high school boy who’d been hit by a car on his way home from school. When I opened my eyes again, I was in a battlefield where the Yellow Turban Army and the imperial forces were slaughtering each other. The System’s sweet female voice had barely finished welcoming me when an imperial soldier’s ring-pommeled saber slashed toward the tip of my nose. I instinctively fell backward, and my hand landed right on a Yellow Turban command flag. If that’s how it is, then let this transmigration begin with me taking my first head in a counterattack.
