Varocia : From Gamer to Mentor

"Ugh..."

In the heart of a forest, a pained groan emerged from a young man crouched on the forest floor, clutching his throbbing head.

At a 180 centimeters tall, he boasted a sharp jawline and high cheekbones that lent his face a strikingly defined appearance. His sharp eyes, though weary and shadowed with a lingering lack of sleep, were expressive and full of vibrancy. His tousled, short black hair—tinted with streaks of fiery orange—coupled with his smooth, clear skin, contributed to his youthful visage.

Yet, his current state was a jarring contrast to his usual appearance. Blood trickled from a wound on his head, though the injury was mending at a remarkable rate. Nearby, a bottle of crimson liquid lay abandoned, slowly rolling across the thick, dewy grass. Beside it, a delicate blue flower laid, its vibrant petals contrasting sharply with the lush greenery.

Uncertain of how much time had passed, the young man finally released his grip on his head as fleeting and hazy memories began to flood his consciousness.

This young man was named Olgan Tenia, who has died by a fatal head injury suffered from a fall off a cliff.

Olgan lifted his gaze and spotted the precipice from which the previous owner of this body had fallen from.

The term "previous owner" was used because the soul now inhabiting Olgan's body was from someone from modern Earth.

Coincidentally, his name on Earth was also Olgan.

He recalled with chilling clarity the moment his mundane life had been shattered: a peaceful evening playing a game in his room, abruptly interrupted by a truck crashing through the wall, ending his life.

When he had regained consciousness, a searing headache had greeted him, along with the realization that he had transmigrated into Olgan Tenia's body—a native of this unfamiliar world. Fragments of his past life on Earth lingered in his memory, but details about Olgan Tenia were scarce. It seemed the fall had inflicted such severe damage that it wiped out most of the previous owner's memories, leaving only the most recent ones intact.

The reason for the previous owner's climb was clear: he had sought out the blue flower above the cliff, the rare Luminous Night Sapphire—a legendary herb reputed to grant night vision to those who consumed it.

In the aftermath of the fall, the previous owner had summoned his remaining strength to retrieve a Recovery Potion and drink it. Despite his efforts, he succumbed to his injuries before the potion could fully heal him.

And so, Olgan's Earth soul had taken residence in a body still recovering from the previous owner's fatal head injury. The Recovery Potion's continued effects on the body allowed Olgan's consciousness to successfully take over a previous soulless body, granting him a new ife.

He sighed, a mixture of resignation and disbelief in his voice. "I guess I'm Olgan Tenia now..."

The shock of the truck-kun's impact and the bizarre reality of transmigration left him numb rather than panicked. His mind, overwhelmed by the extremity of the situation, blanked out, accepting his new identity with a bewildered calm.

Yet, the absence of memories about the previous owner of the body plagued him. What had his occupation been? Where did he live? Did he have any family? And where is this place?

The head injury had erased all these answers, leaving him disoriented. The Recovery Potion had mitigated his head suffering but had not fully restored his lost memories.

At least he still retained memories of his previous life on Earth.

After resting for about ten minutes, Olgan felt a bit better.

Surveying his surroundings, he saw a dense forest teeming with the calls of familiar and unfamiliar creatures. He rose to his feet, retrieving the empty bottle of Recovery Potion and examining the flower—the supposed Luminous Night Sapphire.

As he studied the flower, he frowned in realization: it wasn't the rare herb both he and the previous owner of the body had hoped for. It was just an ordinary flower.

He couldn't tell how he managed to identify it as a fake, but he believed it to be the truth.

Olgan sighed again, disappointment on his tone of voice. "There goes an easy fortune for my new life."

Aren't people getting hit by truck-kun usually has some cheat? System? Golden finger? I don't think I have one... He thought so, but just in case, he called out "System"

Nothing happened.

He couldn't help but feel a tinge of bitterness. Struck by a truck and transported to a new world with scant memories and no money to speak of, he felt an almost absurd sense of misfortune.

Searching through his disheveled simple and comfortable white linen clothes, he found no sign of this world's currency.

Did the previous Olgan not bring any money with him? he wondered with a touch of bitterness.

Though he wanted to curse his luck, a deep-seated numbness prevailed over any rising anger.

Surprised at his own lack of anxiety, Olgan mused that his mind might be employing a defense mechanism to shield him from the full impact of his current ridiculous predicament.

With the sun sinking lower in the sky, and no survival knowledge to speak of, he knew he needed to find his way out of the forest before darkness fell.

Following the faint traces of the previous Olgan's footsteps that led eastward, he hoped they would guide him to some semblance of civilization.