1 Chapter 1: Pilot
Ugh!!!
F**k!!!
So painful!!!
What kind of pain is this? It's as if a drill was turned on in my brain!
Amidst the tumultuous whirl of pain and bewilderment, Osas awoke to a world both foreign and bewildering. The unforgiving assault on his senses, akin to a relentless drill boring into his brain, was the first jolt into this disorienting reality.
Slowly, he pried open his heavy eyelids, only to be greeted by an unrelenting blaze of harsh, blinding light. Blinking through the disorientation, he took in his surroundings with dazed uncertainty. Before him stood an ancient, weathered hanok, its once-proud visage now reduced to a state of forlorn decay. Osas lay sprawled across from it, struggling to make sense of the situation.
To the right, a narrow road led toward a cluster of similarly dilapidated hanoks, their walls weathered by the relentless passage of time.
To the left, the hanok was juxtaposed against a vast expanse of untamed grass, stretching into the horizon, a stark contrast to the forsaken structure.
To the left of him, within arm's reach, an unsettling discovery awaited Osas—a cryptic note, bearing the ominous message, [We have high expectations!] Beside it, a blood-smeared hammer rested, its ominous history evident in the trail of crimson leading to his own forehead.
With trembling fingers, Osas attempted to raise his arm to assess the state of his body, only to be met with a startling revelation. His limbs felt strangely diminutive, as though belonging to a child. Panic surged as he scrutinized his ragged, bloodied green shirt, which, despite the stains, displayed no apparent wounds. The enigma deepened, and his thoughts raced through a labyrinth of possibilities.
My arms... they're so small! And my body... it's like that of a child!
I-Is this one of those phenomena from the novels?
Transmigration? Reincarnation?
Have I become a character in a novel or a game, with my life scripted for others to observe?
Did I transmigrate or reincarnate?
What's happening to me?
Questions swirled like a tempest within his mind.
Is this another world? or perhaps an alternate timeline?
Have I truly transmigrated? or was it a form of reincarnation with my memories intact?
Did my soul merely transfer to a new vessel, awakening my memories after a traumatic event?
Ok. Let's calm down and think logically
Summoning a measure of resolve, Osas paused to recollect his identity.
My name is Uvuvwevwevwe Onyetenyevwe Ugwemuhwem Osas. When people hear it, they think of the African meme guy. I am not him though. It is a name that's been both my bane and my uniqueness. I've endured mockery and bullying because of it, developing trust issues due to it. In that environment of constant malice, novels were my solace, my refuge. Just like those Korean fighting manhwas.
He recounted the fateful moment when, while traversing a familiar alleyway, an inexplicable, blinding light had swallowed him whole, leading to this disconcerting metamorphosis.
Was it the alley? Did that light do this to me?
But for now, he set aside the mysteries of memory and existence to focus on the immediate predicament. Uncertainty shrouded the fate of the original occupant of this young vessel, yet Osas harbored a solemn resolve.
You, the original owner of this body have given me your body. I do not know if it was out of your own will or you simply had no choice. But since it is done, I vow this!
I, Uvuvwevwevwe Onyetenyevwe Ugwemuhwem Osas, solemnly swear by the heavensHe declared, his tone tinged with both determination and a touch of self-consciousness.that I will seek justice for your untimely demise and fulfill any lingering wishes. If I fail in this pledge, may the heavens take my life!
...Damn that was cringe! But it does sound cool though...
With a child's body at his disposal, Osas rose to his feet, scanning his surroundings with newfound clarity. Noticing the position of the sun and the warmth that bathed him, he deduced it was midday.
The blood is fresh... it hasn't been long.
His instincts whispered a tale of a passionate, rage-fueled crime.
The assailant, consumed by anger, had wielded the hammer mercilessly, beating the owner to death until blood splattered in a macabre dance. It was a horrifying act, driven by an overwhelming rage.
After venting this terrible fury, the assailant dropped the bloodied hammer, a moment of grim realization washing over them. Their conscience stirred, and they fled toward the buildings in the distance.
Osas reasoned that these structures held significance, perhaps the assailant's hometown or a place of refuge.
The assailant's access to carpentry and blacksmith tools suggests a familiarity with the area or tools.
Osas contemplated the idea of investigating, of uncovering the truth, but he recognized the peril of his current state. Courting death would be unwise. It was a task best left for another time when he was better prepared.
I must secure something for defense, then gather information. Venturing into an unfamiliar world without means of protection would be folly.
...Let's find a weapon, gather information, and proceed cautiously. The hammer's a no go. It seems like it will break down with just a touch.
With measured and deliberate strides, the young Osas embarked on his exploration, approaching the enigmatic hanok that had now come to symbolize his entry into this bewildering new existence. Its age-worn façade held an aura of enigma, and Osas proceeded with a cautious curiosity.
Gently, Osas gripped the crimson door handle, its fragility apparent, threatening to yield with the slightest force applied by his trembling hands.
...Hawwwahhh...
The creaking protest of the door's opening echoed through the dim space, an unsettling sound that sent shivers down Osas's spine. Horror had never been his preferred genre, and the disquiet it evoked clawed at his nerves.
Stepping into the chamber, he encountered an oppressive darkness, the feeble illumination struggling to penetrate the thick layers of obscurity. Tattered walls bore the scars of time, their peeling veneer whispering stories of abandonment and neglect. The emptiness pervaded, casting a pall of desolation over the forsaken space, leaving Osas with an unsettling sensation.The atmosphere is suffocating, and the torn walls only amplify the sense of abandonment.
Despite the unease, Osas persevered, methodically scouring the dim corners of the room. His search yielded meager treasures—a modest cache of ten copper coins, a handheld mirror, and a peasant's gray and ragged wear.
...sniff sniff...
Ugh! It stinks!!
...Well I guess beggars can't be choosers...
Osas reluctantly donned the stinking outerwear, his expression marked by a distinct look of distaste.
Now that I have money, I need to buy food and water first, but I don't know the currency value here.
He paused, mulling over his options.
...Hmm... let's follow the road I saw before. I'm sure I can find answers and information there.
With determination, Osas departed from the hanok, heading towards the cluster of buildings, driven by an unquenchable thirst for water and sustenance.
