Morning sunlight filtered through the forest canopy, golden threads weaving between leaves until they fell across Souta's face. Warmth nudged him awake, though his body protested with a long, low groan, he rolled onto his side and yelped.
A rock dug sharply into his ribs.
Ah—ow! Morning to you too, he muttered, rubbing at the sore spot.
Sitting up, he stretched his arms overhead. His back cracked in protest, legs heavy and sore as if a herd of deer had used him for target practice, souta blinked groggily, squinting up at the sky through the branches.
The memories of last night flickered one by one, like slides from an old projector
He sighed. "Yep, Life's off to a great start."
With a shake to scatter leaves out of his hair, he brushed himself off and began walking towards nowhere in particular.
…
Hours bled away.
His boots dragged through damp soil, each step slower than the last. The forest stretched endlessly, green walls pressing in on all sides, birds chirped, unseen but loud, and now and then a breeze carried the smell of moss and wet bark.
His stomach growled, long and low.
"Ugh… maybe the system could have slipped me a snack into my inventory,he grumbled, pressing a hand to his gut.
But just when the forest began to feel endless, he caught sight of something through the trees.
A break in the green.
He pushed through a tangle of branches, heart quickening and froze.
Towers, stone walls, wooden buildings clustered close together. Flags rippled in the breeze, from afar, he could already hear the faint clang of a bell, the chatter of voices, the creak of carts.
"A city."
Relief surged through him, warming his chest. It felt like stumbling across an oasis after wandering in the desert, an oasis with food, beds, and hopefully shirts that actually fit.
He quickened his pace, stepping onto a dirt road that sloped toward a tall metal gate.
Two guards flanked the entrance, iron armor dull and scuffed, long spears in hand. Souta braced himself. Back in his old world, city gates usually meant questions, sometimes bribes, right now, he had zero answers and even less money.
But when he approached, one guard barely glanced at him, then gave a short nod. The other waved him through.
"…No questions?" Souta whispered as he walked past. This world is either super chill… or incredibly irresponsible.
…
Inside, the city pulsed with life.
Cobblestone streets sprawled in every direction, packed with carts and stalls. Vendors shouted prices, kids darted between legs, people hauled baskets, swords, or sometimes both. The air hit him like a wave bread fresh from ovens, sweat from laborers, sharp iron from blacksmiths.
The buildings stood sturdy and weathered. Stone bases, wooden frames, some topped with thatched roofs. Medieval in flavor, but the clothes were stranger, tunics mixed with belts and boots, jackets here and there, even trousers that looked almost modern a mash up of fantasy and utility.
Souta moved carefully through the crowd, trying not to look too lost.
"Okay," he muttered, act cool not the mysterious traveler vibe. Definitely not some clueless idiot from another planet. Just a normal guy, casual stroll.
A fruit vendor waved cheerfully, Souta smiled back then turned directly into a pole.
CLANG.
He stumbled back, rubbing his forehead.
A nearby child burst into laughter.
"Nice start," Souta groaned.
He carried on, pretending the humiliation never happened, though the faint sting on his forehead said otherwise. the gleam of blades hung at a blacksmith's stall, the merchants shouting insults over the price of spices. The city lived and breathed around him, noisy and colorful.
Then reality smacked him.
He was broke.
He had no money, not even a shiny rock to haggle with.
"Great," he muttered. "I'm the chosen one who can't afford lunch."
His stomach growled again as he passed a bakery, warm loaves glowing in the window like treasure. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to keep moving.
That's when he spotted it.
Near the town square, nailed to a board, scraps of paper fluttered in the breeze. He leaned closer, scanning the ink.
HELP WANTED – LABORERS NEEDED
Short-term work | 30 coins per day | No experience required
Report to the South Gate loading station before noon.
Souta blinked. "Thirty coins? That's… thirty more than I have got."
His stomach growled again, louder this time he straightened.
"Decision made."
Of course, finding the South Gate wasn't simple. Souta got lost twice, circled the same fountain three times, and once ended up in a back alley that smelled like spoiled cabbage but eventually, he found it.
…
An hour later…
"Whose genius idea was it to store food in boulders?" Souta groaned, muscles screaming as he hoisted a sack of potatoes nearly his size.
The overseer arms like tree trunks, brow locked in permanent frown grunted. quit whining, new guy, you want coins or a slap?!
Souta forced a smile. "Coins, please."
The work was brutal, he hauled sacks of produce, crates of iron parts, and one box that reeked so badly it could only be rotten fish, he nearly vomited twice, tripped once, and got yelled at at least ten times.
By the time the sun sank low, painting the sky orange, his entire body ached. His arms trembled, back knotted tight, legs jelly.
But in his pocket were Coins.
His first earnings in this world.
Souta held the pouch like it was rare loot, shaking it lightly so the clink echoed.
"I'm rich," he whispered dramatically.
Okay, maybe not rich but richer than I was this morning.
…
As night crept across the city, lanterns lit the streets in golden glow. Souta wandered until he spotted a modest inn tucked between a blacksmith's shop and a clothing stall.
The sign swung gently in the breeze
The Blacksmith Inn – Cozy Beds, Cheap Food!
Inside, warmth embraced him. The air smelled of stew and cinnamon, chatter low and friendly. Behind the counter stood a kind faced woman with hair tied in a purple bun.
"How much for a room?" Souta asked.
Ten coins, she said with a smile and that's for two nights with bread and soup included in the morning."
His jaw nearly dropped.
"Deal," he said quickly, handing over the coins she gave him a key, and he climbed the stairs.
…
The room was small, but to Souta it felt like luxury. Wooden floor, a single bed with surprisingly soft sheets, a table, a chair, and a window overlooking the city below.
He dropped onto the bed with a sigh of pure relief, arms sprawled wide.
"I fought demon wolves, got roasted by a system, worked like a mule and almost died under a mountain of potatoes…" He paused, grinning faintly. "…But I made it."
Sitting up, he gazed out the window. The city stretched beneath him, lanterns flickering like earthbound stars. He could hear laughter from the tavern next door, clinking mugs, someone singing badly out of tune. Life pulsed around him messy, loud, beautiful.
Souta's lips curved in a quiet smile.
"I may not have powers yet, i may be broke, but I've got a roof and a bed…"
He looked down at his pants.
"…And pants."
A sigh escaped him.
"Finally."
He leaned back, eyes fluttering shut as the sounds of the city cradled him toward sleep.
End of Chapter 5