One Hundred Thousand Ways to Die in the End of the World

A menacing high fever did not turn Luo Jing into a fool. Instead, it gave her a superpower, a superpower that made her gnash her teeth - foreseeing death. To be precise, she could predict one hundred thousand ways of her own death in advance. The real God of Death was coming, just like doom itself. Luo Jing felt that she was not being played to death by the apocalypse, but sooner or later she would be played to death by her useless superpower. "Luo Jing, there are three roads ahead, east, west and south. Which one should we take? The east one?" "Die" "Is that Simeon?" "Die" "Okay, only the south is left." "Die" "Fuck, boss, they're all dead, what should we do?" "Luo Jing, select the ways to die from the east, west, south, and choose one that is less easy to die." "Okay, give me five minutes."