Ethan is feeling the pain from impact
He can hear screams around him shouting for police or ambulance
Ethan thinks ' This is very painful and well did the truck kun himself came to get my soul , Oh well not just relax as I do not have any one after all'
His thoughts drifted—not to family, not to memories of life—but to a story.
A fictional world.
A world he had mocked and criticized with relentless spite.
Douluo Dalu.
He had hated its protagonist.
But the world itself?
The characters that filled it?
A different feeling stirred.
It came without warning, as if whispered by the subconscious in his final conscious moment:
A woman.
Not just any woman—Ah Yin.
She wasn't real. Not in his world. But her image lived clearly in his mind, drawn from fan art, wiki pages, and his own imagination. Her presence had always lingered faintly in the background of the Douluo Dalu universe. A noble sacrifice. A soul beast turned mother. A figure defined by tragedy.
But Ethan had always imagined her differently.
In his mind, she was breathtaking.
She stood tall in a field of blue-gold grass, her presence serene and otherworldly. Her Long silver-blue hair flowed past her waist like liquid moonlight, strands catching invisible wind with grace. Her skin was pale and flawless, glowing like snow under moonbeams. Her cool blue eyes carried the calm of deep lakes, filled with unspoken depth and silent resilience.
Her rosy lips curved faintly—not in a smile, but something softer. Knowing. Gentle.
She wore lingerie of white and blue, pure and flowing, moving like mist around her perfect figure. Every step she took seemed to belong to a realm untouched by suffering. A spirit of nature and dignity
He can not help but drool and salvitate at seeing her chest rose gently with breath that made her perfect C-cup breasts shift ever so slightly, like they begged to be known.
Ethan's mouth watered, and not just from pain.
They were lovely—round, full, real. The kind of breasts that fit in your hand just right, that bounced and begged and teased.
Her nipples, sweet and pink, visible through nothing she wore in his thoughts, were firm with imagined desire. Suckable didn't even begin to describe them. He wanted to devour her. To taste her. To drown.
In that instant, Ethan thought:
"Why did they waste her like that?"
A bitter feeling curled inside his heart. In the novel, Ah Yin was sacrificed—reduced to a stepping stone for Tang Hao's rise, a plot device for Tang San's pain. Her life, her love, her sacrifice—all used up and discarded.
"She deserved more."
That thought, more than anger or fear, consumed him in that moment.
"If I had met her… If she were real—"
His cheeks blushed as he remember how he used to see and make many ai images of her nude and sexy poses and jerk his cock by seeing them and he even had a sex doll of her exact replica that he after jerking used to fuck its pussy so as to fill it with his cum while moaning ' Ah Yin'
"I would've cherished her. Protected her. Not used her."
The image of Ah Yin, her silver-blue hair flowing in quiet stillness, stared back at him in his mind.
"I wish she could've been mine…"
The thought wasn't lewd.
It was obsession.
It was longing.
A wish for connection, for something gentle and beautiful and real—untouched by betrayal, fate, or twisted destinies. In that frozen heartbeat, Ethan didn't fantasize about saving the world, or being powerful, or getting revenge.
He just imagined her, beneath him those lovely rosy lips kissing him and moaning as he is fucking her .
And then—
Black.