Chapter 1: Chapter One: Bird Hits Plane, It Cracks Open

A sensation of swirling heaven and earth surged over him.

“My head’s spinning—how am I still alive?”

Wang Zun shook his head and slowly opened his eyes.

Where is this?

The surroundings were cramped, barely fitting just him; he looked around—on his left was a mirror, and when he looked down, the thing he sat on was not a seat but a toilet.

The airplane bathroom?

Combined with the unfamiliar environment, the ground’s swaying sensation, the faint, alien memories suddenly in his mind, and the face reflected in the mirror…

Wang Zun, with surprise on his face, made his judgment.

“I’ve been reincarnated.”

After a brief shock,

as a promising youth from the Celestial Empire and a novel enthusiast, Wang Zun quickly accepted the reality: “Reincarnation happens every year—today it’s my turn.”

He gazed at the ‘himself’ in the mirror.

It was a delicate face, but its skin was too pale—pale to the point of ashen; his eyes were slightly unfocused, and his eye sockets, whether from hunger or sleeplessness, had sunk deeply, turning what should have been a refined face into one steeped in profound exhaustion.

Wang Zun did not wonder why a seventeen- or eighteen-year-old like ‘himself’ bore the weary, defeated expression only a salaryman could have.

The reason was simple: through the fragmented, hazy memories,

he knew he had reincarnated into the body of a Japanese high school student named Kamikawa Mitsu.

And Kamikawa Mitsu, for various reasons, intended to commit suicide.

Before killing himself, Kamikawa Mitsu decided to fulfill his unaccomplished wish—to fly on an airplane—then fly to his destination, Okinawa, to end his life.

He opened the bathroom door.

Using the flight ticket information in his pocket, Wang Zun found his seat.

He picked up his backpack and opened it.

Inside was a suicide note.

Just as Wang Zun was about to read the note and gather more information about Kamikawa Mitsu,

a cold mechanical voice sounded.

Echoing in Wang Zun’s mind.

Ding! Script System activated.

Ding! System triggered: the villain will appear within three minutes. Host must write a script within three minutes based on the scene and the villain. Props and items required by the script may be obtained by consuming Script Points.

The voice came suddenly; Wang Zun froze.

Script System?

Of course—reincarnation always comes with a cheat skill.

A system interface appeared before him.

Host: Kamikawa Mitsu (Wang Zun)

Physical Composite Score: 31

Skills: None

Script Points: 100 points

Before he could examine the system interface closely, his vision blurred—a script panel popped up, specifically for the next three minutes.

On the panel, information about the villain, the script content, and the protagonist were all blank.

Instinctively, Wang Zun looked at the villain information.

His pupils shrank sharply.

A chill shot from his soles straight to the crown of his head, threatening to burst out.

Had he not clamped his hand over his mouth in time, he would have screamed an oath.

【Villain Information】:

Seven crows, flying freely through the sky, eager to fly elsewhere and caw.

They flew too joyfully, failing to notice the approaching commercial airliner.

…

Looking at the information, Wang Zun’s scalp prickled.

He instantly understood.

What would happen in the next three minutes.

The crows would collide with the airplane he was sitting on.

Wang Zun’s heart could not calm down—it beat faster and faster.

He had read many reports on bird strikes: minor cases caused flight diversions; severe ones meant plane destruction and death.

Damn it!

Just after reincarnating, how did I end up in a disaster scenario…

He did not consider minor accidents—he assumed the worst-case scenario.

“Two and a half minutes left.”

Wang Zun noticed the time on his phone; his expression turned serious.

He had wasted thirty seconds staring in shock at the information.

As each second ticked away, time grew scarce for Wang Zun.

He must resolve the crisis quickly.

Faced with the threat of death and urgent time, Wang Zun’s mind raced.

Asking the pilot to change course to avoid the crows was impossible.

Not only because he was just a high school student, but because flight routes were strictly scheduled—impossible to alter on a whim.

Most crucially, who would believe him if he said crows were about to hit the plane?

System!

Only the system could save him.

But what exactly could the Script System do?

Wang Zun thought rapidly.

Villain, protagonist, script, consuming Script Points to obtain script props and items… each piece of information flashed through his mind.

I get it—this isn’t just the job of a screenwriter and director?

The writer drafts the script; the director executes it.

Now, the system has already provided the villain’s information.

The protagonist is blank; the script content is blank too.

Wang Zun’s task was to complete the protagonist and script, then realize the script’s content in reality.

So, who should be the protagonist?

With his own life at stake, relying on others was useless—he would become the protagonist himself.

With the protagonist chosen, how should he write the script?

He knew reality differed greatly from movie acting—everyone present was unaware of the script.

Thus, he could not directly command them to follow his plan.

He could only guide them, making everyone follow his thoughts and the script’s content.

In his past life, Wang Zun had been a top student at medical school—he knew nothing about screenwriting or directing.

But!

He might never have seen a pig run, but he’d certainly seen pork.

He quickly opened the script content panel, wondering how to input the script into the virtual interface—since he couldn’t write it with a pen—when the system sensed his thoughts.

Instantly, a line of text appeared on the panel.

【Script Content】: The crows collide with the airplane; Wang Zun responds intelligently and handles the situation effectively, successfully preventing the plane crash and ensuring everyone returns home safely.

Wang Zun understood clearly: a real-life script differed from a movie script.

Reality was unpredictable—he could not force people to speak or act exactly as he wished; the only thing he could write was the outcome.

Once the outcome was set, he would respond to reality and steer events toward that result.

As for how to respond…

Wang Zun turned his gaze to the system panel’s 【Script Points】.

Script Points could be exchanged for props and items.

He was merely a high school student—his actions were extremely limited; to alter the crisis, the key lay in exchanging Script Points.

He must obtain the item that would be most effective against the coming crisis!

Boom.

As Wang Zun thought, he felt the plane lurch violently.

Not just him—the entire commercial airliner rocked side to side.

At that moment, the plane’s announcement blared.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the aircraft has encountered turbulence. For your safety, please confirm your seatbelts are fastened. Restrooms will be temporarily closed.”

On the other side.

The commercial airliner cockpit.

Captain Hasegawa Bunichi ordered First Officer Nakano Kazumitsu to perform a turbulence check and disengage the autopilot, taking manual control of the aircraft.

This was the correct choice.

Strong air currents were present in the atmosphere; turbulence caused by these currents could alter the aircraft’s flight path. If the autopilot remained engaged, it might forcibly correct the course, triggering violent shaking and potentially causing an accident.

As he operated the controls, Captain Hasegawa added, “Notify Tokyo Air Traffic Control—we’ve encountered strong air currents and request clearance to ascend.”

“Roger!” First Officer Nakano nodded after completing the turbulence check and began communicating with air traffic control.

“This is Narita NH137. We’ve encountered severe air currents and request permission to ascend.”

As he spoke, First Officer Nakano glanced at the altimeter.

It read: altitude 5000.

“Narita NH137, climb to 6300.”

As the voice of Tokyo Air Traffic Controller Yamnaka Yoichi came through the radio, Captain Hasegawa pulled back on the control yoke, slowly tilting the aircraft upward.

Above Tokyo today, the sky was clear and boundless.

White clouds were sparse, scattered in small clusters.

As NH137 ascended, a small cloud loomed ahead. Without hesitation, Captain Hasegawa flew straight through it.

Normally, aircraft speed is high enough that passing through clouds causes no prolonged obstruction of visibility.

Moreover, air traffic control’s approval to ascend meant no other aircraft were present at 6300 feet—no risk of collision.

Yet…

The instant the aircraft pierced the cloud layer.

“No!!”

Captain Hasegawa and First Officer Nakano turned pale and shouted in unison.

Above the cloud, seven crows flapped their wings in flight.

Their position coincided exactly with the aircraft’s altitude.

CRASH!

The two collided.

A deafening roar erupted.

The aircraft’s triple-layer windshield shattered instantly.

Shards of glass, mixed with severed crow flesh and blood, sprayed toward Captain Hasegawa and First Officer Nakano.

The impact was immense.

It felt like iron hammers striking their bodies.

“Ahh!!”

First Officer Nakano screamed as crow blood splashed into his eyes.

The searing pain made him clutch his face and howl.

His cry was agonizing.

Meanwhile, unlike First Officer Nakano’s screams, Captain Hasegawa, positioned directly in front of the shattered windshield, remained silent.

Not a single cry of pain escaped him.

In the instant of collision, countless fragments and gore slammed into him—one crow’s sharp beak pierced toward his head.

At the aircraft’s speed of 800 kilometers per hour, the beak acted like a bullet, driving straight through his forehead, piercing his skull.

Captain Hasegawa Bunichi died on impact!

Perhaps from fear, or perhaps from duty as captain…

Until his final breath, Captain Hasegawa never released the control yoke—his fingers remained clenched tight.

The aircraft continued its upward tilt.

Soaring higher and higher!!

Without Captain Hasegawa’s stabilizing control, and with the weight of his dead arm dragging downward…

The aircraft tilted more steeply upward.

…