As Kevin learned the name, some memories began to surface in his mind, like faint sparks of recognition. Words appeared in his memory—not readable in the usual sense, but their meaning was clear.
"I can't read the words… but I can directly understand what is being said."
For a moment, he didn't know what was happening with his memories—or whether these fragments belonged to his original self or to this body.
He continued rifling through the wallet in his hand, trying to extract any relevant information from the strange writing. Identification documents, bank cards, and several odd, incomprehensible cards were tucked inside.
Even so, he managed to glean some details. This body belonged to someone from a nation called the Gugan Kingdom.
Kevin had never heard of it. Yet something about the name suggested it was a powerful country.
Why did he know that?
The name triggered more faint recollections. This body seemed like someone with amnesia, recalling only fragments when stimulated. Now, with Kevin in control, those fragments began to surface.
Was this normal?
It had to be. What else could he do?
Kevin resolved to make the best of a bad situation. He needed to learn more about himself and the world around him. His eyes fell on the pile of clothes in the corner—maybe searching through them would trigger more memories.
He acted immediately.
Sure enough, the clothes were torn, riddled with holes, and stained with dried blood. But the more he examined them, the stranger they seemed.
Did these marks really look like someone had fallen off a mountain?
Several tears were unnaturally smooth, as if sliced with scissors or a sharp blade. Each detail of the clothing increasingly suggested something was wrong.
Wait… how did "I" die?
"You found something wrong, didn't you?"
The sudden voice from behind made Kevin spin around in alarm. The man from earlier stood silently, having appeared without a sound.
Seeing Kevin's startled reaction, the man scratched his spiky hair.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I've been thinking… and I have too many questions. I don't have much time, so I'll be direct."
What?
Kevin's brief stability crumbled. He had just started to gather his thoughts, and now the man's words threw him back into confusion and panic.
"My name is Jin. Jin Freecss," the man said.
Kevin instinctively nodded, still trying to process everything.
"I killed you. With my own hands."
"Huh?"
Shock froze him. Was this man casually admitting murder?
Jin continued, undeterred. "We were enemies, so I killed you. But when I prepared to dispose of your body, your injuries healed. I had confirmed your death, yet you came back. This phenomenon is rare and unlike anything I've seen before. That's why I brought you back—to see if you'd wake up."
The flood of information hit Kevin like a tidal wave. Every thought he had just organized, every plan he had formed, dissolved instantly.
Fragments of memory flashed before him—fighting Jin, the moments before he lost consciousness. They were blurry, but enough to suggest Jin's story might be true.
Kevin instinctively touched his body, searching for traces of the injuries. They were gone, though his mind still expected pain.
"You said you've seen other cases of resurrection? More than once?"
That was the key point. Could this happen repeatedly? Was resurrection common here?
Even the hazy memories from the fight suggested this world was not entirely as it should be.
Jin studied him carefully. "So you admit it. My guess seems correct. You have some awareness of your condition, though not full understanding."
He paused, thinking. "It's like seeing a dragon in a painting. You never believed dragons existed, but when you encounter something similar, you call it a dragon anyway."
He finished the analogy and fixed Kevin with a sharp gaze.
"Your reaction to your body—it isn't amnesia. It's horror, confusion, instinctive rejection. It's like another soul, another consciousness, has entered this body."
Everything he said fit perfectly.
Are you some kind of master detective?
Despite the intensity of the moment, Kevin's mind raced. The chaos sharpened his thoughts rather than dulling them.
He recalled the brief moments after waking: his panic, his disorientation, his inability to make sense of the body he now inhabited. Anyone would have reacted similarly.
And Jin… from the start, Jin had controlled the situation. He had guided Kevin's thoughts, shaped his reactions, and dominated the interaction completely.
And the man in front of him had absolute dominance from the start. Every step, every word, every pause—it was all deliberate. Even the mirror, reflecting his face at just the right moment, had been planned.
There were countless details Kevin hadn't noticed, all carefully orchestrated. Jin had thought of everything.
His worries had been meaningless. From beginning to end, this had been the worst-case scenario.
Kevin looked up. Jin watched him quietly, not urging him, as if waiting for him to piece things together.
"Whew," Kevin exhaled.
It felt meaningless. He had killed the former "him," yet the fragmented memories in his mind had already proven the combat prowess of the body he now controlled. His own mastery over it—both in fighting and in intelligence—was clearly inferior.
And the man in front of him was no fool. One could even say that Kevin himself seemed foolish by comparison.
Resurrection. Consciousness. Soul. All these fragments hinted at extraordinary power lurking in this world.
Of course, Kevin couldn't rule out the possibility that Jin was bluffing. But the memories—the details—corroborated him.
So far, there had been no "ding" sound, the supposed greatest assurance for a transmigrator.
In the end, did Kevin have to hope this man was good?
"Although I wouldn't call myself a good person, I am definitely not an evil one," Jin said, seemingly reading his thoughts.
Mind reading?
"Not mind reading. Simple observation," Jin replied.
Am I that obvious?
"Not obvious. I just understand this area and have studied it. My intuition is sharp. My sense of smell is good too."
Kevin's mind reeled. What exactly was Jin trying to convey?
With Kevin expressionless and Jin casually talking, an uneasy exchange of words passed between them.
Then Jin sat down on the ground, facing Kevin directly.
"It seems you've digested what I said. You are a thinker, a judge—you should understand the situation. This is not a threat. But you should also know my abilities. Let's talk openly and honestly. Consider it a transaction. You need help now, don't you? Your confusion and unease are written all over your face."
Kevin exhaled and nodded.
Once again, he reaffirmed in his mind that Jin was truly formidable. A wise man submits to circumstances, Kevin reminded himself. And right now, submitting didn't feel like weakness—it felt like survival.