Shin stayed in bed for a long time after he woke up. He stared at the ceiling, tracing the patterns in the dark wood. His mind kept drifting back to his old life, he thought about Rihanna and the way she laughed.
Every time he blinked, he hoped he would see his white bedroom walls. But the wooden planks remained. The depression was like a heavy weight sitting on his chest. It made every movement feel like he was dragging himself through mud.
Eventually, the hunger returned. It was a sharp, nagging reminder that he still had a body. He slowly sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. His joints felt stiff. He looked at the tattered grey robe on the peg and sighed.
He dressed himself in the rough, scratchy clothes. The fabric felt like sandpaper against his skin. He didn't bother trying to fix his hair. He just let the black strands hang messy and long around his face.
He opened the door and made his way down the stairs. The wood groaned under his feet, announcing his arrival to the entire room. The bar was quieter than the night before, with only a few early drinkers sitting at the tables.
The bartender looked up from a large wooden cask. He had a damp rag over his shoulder. "Well, look at that. The sleeping princess is venturing out into the world. You want another round of eggs?"
Shin shook his head slowly. He felt too drained to even hold a conversation. "Not right now. I'm going out for a bit."
The man shrugged and went back to his work. "Don't stay out too late. The streets get a bit rowdy when the sun goes down."
Shin nodded and pushed open the heavy front door.
The moment he stepped outside, the world hit him like a physical blow. The air was vibrant and thick with smells he couldn't quite identify. It was a mix of roasting meat, fresh hay, and the sharp scent of livestock.
The street was narrow and crowded. He walked along the uneven cobblestones, his eyes darting back and forth. The buildings were tall and narrow, built so close together that they seemed to lean into the street. Signs made of painted wood or hammered iron hung above the doors. One showed a loaf of bread, another a horseshoe, and another a foaming mug of ale.
He saw a group of children running past him, chasing a stray dog. They were dressed in simple tunics that were covered in dirt. A woman stood in a doorway, shaking out a rug that sent a cloud of dust into the air.
Everything was so detailed. He could see the moss growing in the cracks of the stone walls. He could hear the rhythmic clanging of a blacksmith's hammer a few blocks away. It was a sensory overload that made his head ache.
He kept walking, heading toward the center of the town where the buildings looked larger and sturdier. After about ten minutes, he reached a structure that stood out from the rest. It was made of heavy stone blocks and had a large, ornate sign hanging over the entrance.
'The Adventurer's Guild.'
Shin stopped in front of the window. He peered inside, his breath fogging the glass. His heart skipped a beat.
The room inside was massive. There were long tables filled with people who looked like they stepped out of a movie. He saw men and women in gleaming plate armor, their swords leaning against the benches. He saw others wearing long, flowing robes in deep blues and greens, clutching staves that glowed faintly.
He saw a woman with a bow across her back, her fingers deftly checking the feathers on her arrows. There were groups of people huddled around a large board covered in parchment notices.
Shin was genuinely surprised. He had seen the wand in his room and the guy with the water spell, but this was different. This was an entire industry of magic and weapons. He felt a flicker of hope. If all these people could do it, surely there was a place for him.
He decided he wanted to see more. He turned to walk toward the entrance, but his mind was still stuck on the images of the wizards inside. He wasn't looking where he was going.
He slammed hard into something solid. It felt like walking into a brick wall.
"Whoa!" Shin stumbled back, his boots slipping on the dusty stones.
He looked up and felt a cold pit form in his stomach. Standing in front of him was a massive man. He was at least six-foot-six and twice as wide as Shin. He wore a leather vest that showed off arms the size of tree trunks. A huge, double-bladed axe was strapped to his back.
The man looked down at Shin, his eyes narrowing into slits. His face was red, and he smelled like sour ale.
"Watch where you're going, you little rat," the man growled.
Shin felt his face flush. In his old life, he would have handled this with a calm apology or a confident smile, people usually respected him.
"I'm sorry," Shin said, trying to steady his voice. "I wasn't looking. It was an accident."
He tried to step around the man, but the giant moved to block his path.
"An accident? You nearly knocked me over. You think you can just bump into a member of the Iron Fang and walk away?"
"I said I was sorry," Shin repeated. He felt a surge of annoyance. He wasn't used to being talked to like this. "There's no need to be aggressive."
The man's response was a blur of motion. Before Shin could even finish his sentence, a massive fist slammed into the side of his face.
The impact was sickening. Shin felt his head snap to the side. The world spun. He didn't even realize he had fallen until he felt the cold, hard cobblestones against his palm. His jaw throbbed with a white-hot pain that made his eyes water.
He groaned, clutching his face.
'Wait,' a thought flashed through his mind. 'Maybe this is it. Maybe this is the moment my hidden skill activates!'
In every story he read, the protagonist discovered their true power when they were pushed to the limit. Maybe he wasn't a wizard. Maybe he was a legendary swordsman or had superhuman strength.
Shin forced himself to get back up. He felt a strange surge of adrenaline. He took a defensive stance he had learned in a boxing class years ago. He kept his chin down and his hands up.
The large man laughed, a deep, mocking sound. "Oh? You want to fight, little girl?"
Shin didn't answer, he waited for the man to move. When the giant swung a heavy hand, Shin tried to duck and counter with a punch of his own. He aimed for the man's ribs, putting all his weight behind the strike.
The man dodged the punch with a speed that didn't match his size. He stepped to the side and drove his fist straight into Shin's stomach.
It felt like being hit by a sledgehammer. The air was forced out of Shin's lungs in a violent burst. He felt his stomach churn. Before he could even cry out, he was doubled over, retching. A mixture of the morning's eggs and cider hit the dirt between his feet.
He couldn't breathe; he couldn't move. He just hung there, gasping and clutching his midsection.
The man didn't stop. He grabbed Shin by the hair and pulled his head back. He sneered, showing yellowed teeth, before slamming his knee into Shin's chest.
Shin was thrown backward. He hit the ground hard, the wind knocked out of him for the second time. The man stepped over him and began to pounce. He rained down heavy blows with his fists and kicked at Shin's ribs.
Shin curled into a ball, trying to protect his head. Every hit felt like a mountain falling on him. He felt the skin on his face tear. He felt the metallic taste of blood in his mouth. He waited for someone to stop it. He waited for a guard or a bystander to intervene.
But no one came. He could hear people walking past. He could hear the chatter of the crowd. They just watched. Some even laughed.
Finally, the man stopped. He spat on the ground next to Shin's head. "Stay out of my way, brat."
He walked away, his heavy boots echoing on the stones.
Shin lay there for a long time. His body was a map of pain. His clothes were tattered and stained with dirt and blood. His face felt swollen, and one of his eyes was already starting to close.
He slowly pushed himself up. Every movement was agony. He realized something then, something that made him feel colder than the morning air.
He was just a normal, weak human in a world that was incredibly cruel. There were no hidden or cheat skills coming to save him.
He began the long walk back to the bar. He limped, his hand pressed against his aching ribs. He kept his head down, avoiding the eyes of the people he passed.
When he reached the inn, he saw the bartender standing near the door. The man looked at him, his eyes widening for a fraction of a second, but he didn't say anything. Shin didn't want to hear another joke about a princess.
He hurried past, stumbling up the stairs and into his room. He slammed the door and locked it.
He didn't bother washing the blood off his face. He just collapsed onto the cot, his body trembling.
He looked up at the dark wooden ceiling. The silence of the room was heavy.
'I want to go home,' he thought. 'I just want to go home.'
As the shadows in the room deepened, Shin drifted into a heavy, pain-filled sleep.