In Another World

The feeling of non-existence was abruptly replaced by a thousand sharp sensations. The most immediate was the cold. A deep, biting chill crept over my skin, and I began to shake uncontrollably. I was no longer in the white void. I was standing on damp, rough ground, with the scent of wet earth and pine filling the air. Above me, a canopy of dark leaves blotted out a sky full of unfamiliar stars.

Of course, I was still completely naked.

My first coherent thought was to find shelter, or at least something to cover myself with. But as I took a half-step, a black rectangle shimmered into existence before my eyes, floating silently in the air. It was a clean, minimalist interface with crisp, white text. A system menu.

[Welcome]

I shivered again, wrapping my arms around myself, but a small, weary smile touched my lips. In the middle of a dark forest, in another world, with nothing to my name, one small mercy presented itself.

"Well, thank God for that," I muttered to the uncaring darkness. "At least it's in dark mode."

The dark mode UI flickered out as I took a step, my immediate priority overriding any curiosity about a magical interface. I needed clothes. And warmth. Walking blindly through the dark forest, I focused on a faint sound—the sound of rush water. It was a destination, and any destination was better than standing still.

After a few minutes of stumbling over roots in the dark, I came to the edge of a wide, shallow river littered with smooth, grey stones. And there, slumped against a large boulder near the bank, was a solution to my problem. Or rather, a former person who had a solution. From the looks of the skeletal remains, they had been here a long, long time. But the tattered clothes they wore, made of some rough, durable-looking fabric, were mostly intact.

My first instinct was revulsion. I was not about to loot a corpse. But another wave of cold shook my body, and pragmatism won. This wasn't my old world. Survival trumped dignity.

With a deep sense of resignation, I approached the remains and carefully removed the garments. The shirt was little more than rotted rags, completely unusable. The pants, however, were made of a sturdy, canvas-like material. They were stiff and stained, but whole.

I didn't put them on immediately. Instead, I took them to the river's edge, knelt on the sharp stones, and began scrubbing the fabric in the freezing water. It was a miserable task, my hands quickly growing numb, but the thought of wearing them as they were was unbearable. Once they were as clean as I could get them, I wrung out the excess water and pulled on the cold, damp pants. It wasn't comfort, but it was a start.

The cold, damp fabric of the pants was doing more harm than good, leeching the warmth from my skin. I took them off and laid them flat on a large, dark stone near where I planned to work.

I stood up, shivering, and scanned the dark woods around the riverbank. "Alright," I said to myself, my breath misting in the cold air. "Time to re-evaluate. The primary objective has shifted from 'not being naked' to 'not freezing to death.' Step one: Fire."

My mind dredged up half-forgotten information from survival shows I'd watched on lazy weekends. "I need fuel, starting with the small stuff. Tinder."

I began my work methodically, gathering dry twigs and peeling thin strips of bark from a dead tree. I broke them down, shredding the bark and snapping the twigs into a small, fluffy pile.

Next, a spark. I searched the rocky riverbank, my eyes scanning for the right kind of stone. After a moment, I found two dark, sharp-edged pieces of flint.

Kneeling beside my pile of tinder, I held the stones and took a steadying breath. "Right. The new product launch," I muttered sarcastically, and began striking the flints together over the pile. A few sparks skittered out, dying instantly. I adjusted my angle and tried again. And again.

Finally, a single, bright spark landed perfectly in the center of the tinder. A tiny orange ember began to glow. Leaning down, I blew on it gently, carefully, feeding it oxygen until a weak, flickering flame finally sprang to life.

I watched it for a moment, a grim sense of satisfaction settling in. It wasn't a godly power, but right now, this small, struggling fire was the most useful thing in the world.

With the fire now stable, I found a few flattish stones and carefully arranged them over the flames, creating a small, heated platform. I laid the damp pants across the warm rocks, hoping to speed up the drying process.

Finally, I sat down on the cold ground, scooting close to the fire and soaking in the precious warmth. The immediate threat of freezing to death had subsided into a dull, manageable misery.

With nothing else to do, I focused my thoughts on the black rectangle from before. As if answering a summons, it shimmered back into existence, floating silently in front of me.

I stared at the clean, white text.

[ Name: Hayato Mikami ]

[ Blessing: Perfect Illusion (Godly) ]

[ Objective: Survive ]

Below the basic information were a few menu options.

[ STATUS ] [ SKILLS ] [ MAP ] [ INVENTORY ]

I read the 'Objective' line again and let out a dry, humorless laugh. "Survive... Glad the system cleared that up. I was planning on dying again for fun."

I reached a tentative hand towards the floating interface. My finger passed through the [SKILLS] option as if it were smoke, but the screen responded instantly, replaced by a new menu.

[ SKILLS LIST ]

> Perfect Illusion (Godly)

Description: Creates a flawless, tangible illusion.

Cost: None.

Cooldown: None.

That was it. Just the one skill. "Godly-tier," and it was my only asset. The "no cooldown" and "no mana use" part was interesting, though. It implied other skills did have costs. A nagging curiosity made me dismiss the screen and bring up the main menu again. This time, I pressed [STATUS].

The display expanded with a detailed breakdown.

[ NAME: Hayato Mikami ]

[ RACE: Human ]

[ CONDITION: Stable ]

[ HP: 100/100 ]

[ MP: 0/0 ]

[ STAMINA: 85/100 ]

[ STRENGTH: 5 ]

[ AGILITY: 6 ]

[ INTELLIGENCE: 12 ]

[ (Note: Average human stat is 5) ]

I scanned the list, my eyes stopping on one particular line. [MP: 0/0]. So that's why my "Godly" skill had no mana cost. I didn't have any mana to begin with. The system gave me a magic trick that required no magic, because I was completely and utterly non-magical.

I dismissed the status screen with a mental sigh. A non-magical human with a single, non-damaging magic trick. 

I stood and walked over to the fire. The pants were dry now, and pleasantly warm from the heated stones. Pulling them on felt like the height of luxury after being cold for so long. 

I cleared my throat, the sound rough in the quiet night. "Alright. Let's make a plan. Warmth and clothing are secured. Next, information and shelter."

My mind went back to my apartment, to the styrofoam cup in my hand just before the phone calls escalated. "I ate that cup of noodles right before this mess started," I calculated. "That should give me some energy. I'm not going to starve in the next few hours, at least."

I looked up at the unfamiliar stars, then into the dark woods. "Okay. I'll walk for four hours, or until first light. Whichever comes first. Scout the area. See if this world has anything to offer besides trees and a conveniently located corpse."

With a direction set, I began my walk, following the riverbank as it was the only landmark in the oppressive darkness. The forest was quiet except for the crunch of my own footsteps and the distant chirping of some unseen creature.

An hour into my patrol, I spotted a dark, clustered shape on a tree just ahead. It was a splash of deep red against the dark green leaves. Apples. Wild apples, growing conveniently by the path. My internal alarm bells for 'too good to be true' were ringing, but my empty stomach overruled them.

With what could only be described as a complete lack of grace, I managed to scramble a few feet up the rough bark of the tree. It was a clumsy, pathetic effort, scraping my hands and knees, but it got me high enough to grab three of the red fruits before sliding back down to the ground.

I wiped one on my thigh and took a cautious bite. It was crisp, tart, and incredibly real. It was the best thing I'd ever tasted. I walked on, juggling the other two apples in my arms as I ate the first.

It was while I was fumbling with the fruit that my foot caught on something soft. I looked down and saw a simple leather satchel, its strap tangled in the root of a tree. It was empty, worn, and looked like it had been dropped long ago.

After a brief moment of hesitation, I picked it up. It was a tool, and I needed tools. I dropped the remaining apples inside, slung the bag over my shoulder, and continued my journey.

The hours passed in a silent, monotonous rhythm of walking. I watched the moon arc across the sky, its position now low on my side. It had to be late, probably around three in the morning. Just as a profound exhaustion began to set in, I saw it. A faint, flickering orange glow in the distance, then another. A simple village.

I stopped, my first instinct to head straight for it. But I quickly checked myself. I looked down at my bare chest and the rough, stained pants I wore. I looked like a beggar at best, a bandit at worst. Walking into a strange settlement in the middle of the night dressed like this was a terrible idea.

I clutched the strap of the leather satchel, feeling the weight of the apples inside. An idea began to form.

"Okay. A new variable," I muttered to the trees. "A settlement. First contact." I began to pace slowly, thinking through the logistics. "My current appearance is a liability. It creates suspicion. I need a valid reason to approach them, a role to play."

I patted the bag of apples. "This is my cover. I'm not a threat; I'm a merchant. A simple fruit seller." My mind sharpened, falling into the familiar rhythm of strategic planning. "The primary objective is not profit. It's reconnaissance. I need to learn the local currency. If I can sell an apple or two, I can see what they use for money. That's the first step."

To Be Continued.