Quick Transmigration: Striving Every Day to Overcome Tribulation

Chapter 212 The Cycle of One Day

When my parents wished me a happy birthday, I was filled with curiosity.

I even started to wonder if I had traveled to a parallel world. After all, I was hiding in my room, so how could they still casually wish me a happy birthday?

Strangely, I didn't hear any response from myself. Apart from the sounds coming from outside, which belonged to my parents, the whole room was eerily quiet.

This inexplicably terrified and frightened me; every hair on my body stood on end, and my back was soaked with cold sweat.

But at the same time, a strong sense of curiosity welled up inside me: Could it be that I really have the ability to travel to parallel worlds, and thus occupied my original place in this world?

But this doesn't make sense! I'm just an ordinary person with no special abilities; I just slipped and fell.

But what exactly is this thing that keeps making me slip?

Previously, I had never thought about this question, but now that I've calmed down and thought about it carefully.

The shoes feel hard and round when you step on them.

The moment I slipped, the thing hit the floor with a crisp sound, just like the sound of beads hitting the ground when my mother's bracelet broke.

Yes, I stepped on a bead, which should be the one my mom lost and asked me to go downstairs to help look for.

Could it be that I accidentally stepped on this bead, causing this?

impossible!

But thinking about it, I actually believed it was about 70-80% related to me.

As long as I don't leave the room, I won't step on the beads and won't faint. I'm confident I can hold on until the next day.

I forced myself to stay alert, keeping a close eye on the room, eagerly anticipating the clock to strike midnight and end this cycle.

Just as it was almost midnight, the eerily quiet room was suddenly filled with the sound of beads hitting the floor.

That day, I was on edge and highly alert. By nightfall, I was exhausted and desperately wanted to sleep.

But the sudden sound of the beads alerted me instinctively, and I immediately wanted to open my eyes to see what was going on.

However, my tired eyes felt as if they were glued shut, my upper and lower eyelids pressed tightly together, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't open them.

Immediately afterwards, my consciousness gradually blurred, and in the next instant I knew nothing at all; the annoying sound of the beads also disappeared.

This is the fifth time. I can no longer endure this bizarre cycle. I have only one thought in my mind—to escape from here.

I desperately tried to escape from my home, but the sight before me when I opened the door filled me with terror.

Outside, everything was a vast expanse of white, as if the entire world had been swallowed up by endless whiteness. It seemed that we were the only family around us, and there was nothing else.

I was so frightened that I stood there, my legs trembling, too afraid to step out of the house, yet too afraid to turn back into that terrifying home.

I squatted there by the door, filled with helplessness and despair. In extreme fear and exhaustion, the sound of beads rang out again, and I fainted once more.

For the sixth time, I decided to try a different approach to break this terrible cycle.

I tried to defy my parents' orders and mustered the courage to tell them that today was not my birthday.

But they were like pre-programmed robots, completely unresponsive to my words, simply repeating their previous statements and mechanically performing their previous actions.

This scene filled me with utter despair; fear overwhelmed me like a surging tide.

I was so frightened that I dared not make any further moves. Like a startled rabbit, I quickly retreated to my room, huddled tightly in a corner, and sought a pitiful sense of security.

On the seventh attempt, I mustered my courage and clung to a sliver of hope, trying to find a way to break the cycle by helping my mother collect the beads.

I picked up the beads one by one, counting them in my head, "One, two, three... nineteen."

But where did the other bead go?

I searched almost every corner of the house, turned everything upside down, and even lay on the floor to examine it inch by inch, but I still couldn't find it.

No matter how hard I try, I can't collect all twenty beads.

I continued my search down the stairs, filled with anxiety and exhaustion.

Suddenly, my foot slipped, and the familiar feeling returned. I slipped again on the missing bead, and everything went black as I passed out.

When I woke up for the eighth time, I thought that since I couldn't break this strange cycle, I should ask the outside world for help.

With trembling hands, I picked up my phone and dialed the police, but all I heard was a busy signal. I then tried calling my relatives and friends, but every attempt ended in failure; none of the calls went through.

I was unwilling to give up, and dialed again and again, my fingers turning white from excessive force, but the cold busy tone was like the devil's mockery, ruthlessly proclaiming my helplessness.

Just as it was almost midnight, the beading sound rang out, and I immediately fainted.

For the ninth time, as I watched my parents about to start arguing, a sense of resolve welled up inside me.

I decided to take the initiative and snatch my mother's bracelet before they started arguing. Maybe this would all end as long as the bracelet didn't break.

I rushed forward without thinking and reached for the bracelet with both hands, but the moment I touched it, the beads seemed to have a mind of their own and broke off prematurely, scattering all over the ground with a crackling sound.

I stepped back, stepped on a bead, and hit my head on the ground. Everything went black.

The tenth time, the eleventh time... each cycle felt like a nightmare from which I could not wake up. I hated this repetitive life, like a robot procedurally collapsing and entering the cycle again. Each experience brought me immense pain and despair.

This endless torment completely broke me down. I started to go crazy. The pain and repression in my heart became unbearable, and I decided to end it all.

I started attempting suicide, and in various ways.

But each suicide only brings the cycle forward.

This intensified my despair; every attempt felt like a reminder that I could never escape this terrible fate.

I struggled in a state of collapse and madness, suffering immense torment both physically and mentally, making every minute and every second unbearable.

Finally, one day, after repeated cycles, the house suddenly began to shake violently.

Immediately afterwards, cracks appeared on the wall, growing larger and larger, as if the entire house was being torn apart by an invisible hand.

As I stood in the room, watching all of this, a sense of relief welled up inside me.

With a deafening roar, the house shattered completely, I was swallowed by darkness, and finally met my death.

-

Now, Su Su gets out of bed just like the original owner, and she doesn't know how many times this has happened to the original owner.