'Why is life so unfair?' he thought as several men were bashing his legs with steel clubs. The solitary streetlight in the dark road blinded his eyes.
The scrawny man had several stab wounds on his stomach, shoulder and chest and his face was beaten into a bloody pulp. His pale, broken out face was barely recognizable.
Well, maybe this is what you get for spitting on a powerful gangster's face.
His consciousness was slipping away uncontrollably, each hit becoming less painful than the last. This was his end.
Was it worth it?
Yes. He would do it again.
He would channel that nastiest saliva from the deepest corner of his throat and gladly spit it on the face of the man who ruined his life.
Sounds were fading and he was suddenly embraced in terrifying coldness.
Just before he exited this rotten world, one thought crossed his dying mind:
'If... by some miracle, I gained power beyond anyone's comprehension, I would fix this world by force. If the world is unfair, I'll bend and break it until justice is above all. Until no one has to put up with guys like you's bullshit.'
For the last time, he closed his eyes. His heart was heavy.
The sound of a gunshot marked the end of his pitiful existence.
*****
"Alsten?"
He'd expected a couple of things to happen after death. Hearing a soft voice of a woman calling out an unfamiliar name wasn't one of them.
"Alsten, what's wrong?"
The rogue soul was extremely confused. And the fact that his vision was blurred didn't help.
Who the hell was Alsten?
He blinked a couple of times, and then gradually, his eyes adjusted.
Just a few moments ago, he was leaning on the cold pole of an old streetlight, being murdered.
Now, he was standing in front of... an angel.
If he was dead, then this must be heaven.
A beautiful woman with lustrous, dark hair was standing in front of him. She wore a black coat over her lightly armored tunic.
She was looking straight at him. Her alluring, ocean blue eyes were full of worry.
He would have definitely thought she was an angel if it weren't for the bow hanging behind her and...
...Those long, pointy ears.
The two of them were standing on a path in the middle of the forest. Nothing but tall trees and vibrant, green grass surrounded them under the bright, blue sky. The gentle breeze was swaying the woman's hair.
The scene painted a long lost tranquility. A stark contrast to the bleak and depressing reality of his corporate life.
What the hell was going on? Could it be that...
There's no way, right?
"Hellooo?" the woman waved her hand in front of his face, as though pulling him out of his trance. "Saeia to Alsten!"
It didn't take a genius to realize what the woman was. She was an elf.
He remained in denial for a moment despite the overwhelming evidence presented to him.
The rogue soul had spent too many hours watching anime and reading manga to not discern what the situation was. But with fate being as cruel as it is, how could it give him something as good and precious as transmigration?
But alas, an extremely beautiful archer elf? Where else would you see that?
He looked at her and, on a whim, asked:
"Who are you?"
He almost lost focus when he heard how different his voice sounded. It was so deep and masculine, far from what his normal voice was like.
But as far as he was concerned, the elf's horrified expression was the more pressing matter. Those three words had managed to shatter the peaceful scenery in an instant.
Her eyes opened wide and her face paled. She took a few steps backwards and looked at him in utter fear.
She opened her mouth.
"Alsten, what are you saying?"
'That name again... Why does she keep calling me Alsten?'
Then, realization hit him.
He died that night, and just as he suspected, he transmigrated into another world.
But the woman was calling him Alsten.
On top of that, his voice sounded so different.
Come to think of it, he felt different, too. It seemed to him like he was a whole foot taller than normal and overall bigger somehow.
His heart began to race. Lifting his hands to look at them, the rogue soul saw a pair of metal gauntlets. He glanced over his sides and saw his own shoulders, wide and strong. Rounded shoulderplates rested atop each arm.
A sleek, silver chestplate protected his torso over a dark undersuit. From his waist hung a split coat that acted as a battle robe, layering over his dark pants and silver-reinforced boots.
And lastly, a deep blue cape elegantly cascaded down behind him, flowing to the gentle breeze.
This was definitely not his body.
One particular thing startled him the most. Aside from this body not being his own, he could feel a foreign sensation deep inside his body. He couldn't figure out where exactly, but it felt like there were two entities circulating in his veins.
"Answer me! What do you mean, who am I?" the elf was beginning to panic.
It was only then that the rogue soul noticed the other three figures walking further down the path. When they heard the elf's voice, they stopped and turned around.
These three figures solidified the rogue soul's conclusion.
One of them was a talking, humanoid white wolf.
"What's going on over there?" the beastman asked in a growly voice.
The other two were a priest-looking old man and... a giant — an irregularly tall, muscular bald man with a massive wall shield hanging on his back.
He truly was in another world.
The elf turned to the three as they began to walk back towards them.
The giant, the priest and the beast stopped in front of them before the elf turned to the caped man.
Bit by bit, the rogue soul was able to piece the information together.
He had transmigrated to another world, but not as himself.
His soul, consciousness or whatever you want to call it, had occupied the body of a man called 'Alsten.'
Not knowing what to do, the rogue soul kept quiet, cold sweat rolling down his forehead.
The wolf looked him up and down, then back to the archer elf. He then asked:
"What happened, Lana?"
She turned to the beastman and then replied.
"Alsten suddenly stopped and spaced out for a few seconds. And then just like that, he asked who I was."
The whole group looked shocked.
He did too when the giant leaned closer and pointed to his own face.
"Hey, Alsten. Do you know who I am?" he asked innocently with a deep, monstrous voice.
The rogue soul hesitated for a moment. The towering, imposing frame of the bald giant intimidated him slightly.
"N-No, sorry."
The priest cupped his chin, musing. He took the opportunity to ask his own question.
"Do you remember why we're here?"
The rogue soul shook his head which caused the group to furrow their eyebrows.
"It doesn't seem like he's fooling us. Genler, what do you think?" The wolf stated, sighing, before turning to the priest.
The old man adjusted his glasses over his sunken eyes and then answered.
"Memory wiping spell. The practice and treatment of such a spell is so ancient, I doubt anyone in this day and age still knows how to perform them."
'So magic does exist here.'
The rogue soul zipped his mouth. Mixed feelings of fear, enlightenment and exhilaration coursed through him.
Precisely because he knew something they didn't.
"So what do we do now?" The wolf asked. "We've reached the quest area, should we complete it under these circumstances?"
The elf replied:
"I think we should head back first. Lifting Alsten's curse must be top priority."
The giant disagreed, wanting to finish the said quest.
Clashing opinions began to pop up. While the group was submerged into a heated debate, the rogue soul connected the dots.
His consciousness had taken over Alsten's body, but he didn't acquire his memories.
This was no different than a mere possession, though he liked to call it transmigration.
However, these people didn't seem to realize that yet. They were under the assumption that their friend had only lost his memories due to some spell or curse.
If they knew the truth, the rogue soul doubted that they would just sit there and accept that their friend is being controlled by someone else's consciousness.
With that said, what should he do next?
'Do I tell them the truth?'
What would they do to him if he did? What would happen to him then?
While the four strangers were arguing whether they should continue the quest or abandon it to cure Alsten, the rogue soul was trying to make up his mind.
He'd lived a shit life. He was treated like shit and he would never want to go back there even if he could.
The world had been so unfair to him. People were cowards who would abandon him the moment their own comfort was compromised.
Now, he was given a chance to live in a better, more beautiful world. A world where he could possibly be someone with value — where he wouldn't be an invisible rug if not a convenient tool.
This must be his reward for enduring such hardships.
The group's heated debate came to an end when the giant clapped his hand, producing a loud shockwave.
At the same time, the rogue soul had made up his mind.
"There's no use arguing aimlessly like this," the bald giant stated and then looked at the caped man.
"Let's just bring Alsten up to speed for now and then hear his thoughts."
The rogue soul gulped, steeling his resolve.
"Let's start with introductions. My name is Hetaphar," he said, pointing at his bare, hard chest.
The others looked at each other before agreeing... reluctantly.
The wolf stepped up next. "I'm Yobu."
The priest sighed with the same nonchalant demeanor on his face. "I am Genler, the healer of this party."
'So we are adventurers of some sort...'
He looked at the archer as it was her turn.
The beautiful elf crossed her arms.
"I'm Lana."
She looked at him with a frown. It was obvious that she was merely trying to hide her anxiety.
"We are the members of your party..." she added.
Looking at them, an unexplainable thrill overflowed in his heart. These people... were his friends.
"And now," the wolf crouched down, picking something up from the ground. It seemed to be something Alsten had dropped before his body got taken over. "It's your turn to know who you are."
Yobu handed him a long and massive metal object. Due to its unnatural size, it was almost hard to realize what it was.
The rogue soul accepted the magnificent greatsword. With one hand, he raised it to the sky, and its pristine surface shone under the sun.
"Alsten, you are the hero who will save this world."
Upon hearing those words, his heart was filled with emotions that he couldn't explain or understand.
"You were chosen to go on a journey to the demonic continent and slay the Demon King. We are here to help you in any way we can."
Alsten, the Hero. That was his new identity.
It was both exhilarating and ridiculous.
After all, a hero was the furthest thing from who he truly was.
But he'd decided to live. He wanted to be in this world.
And for that to be possible, he will deceive these people. He will pretend to be Alsten.
From now on, he is Alsten, the Hero without memories.