Jayden took a look at his surroundings.
"Where am I?"
He had initially thought he was in a hospital, hence the uncomfortable bed. Then, when he first saw his surroundings, he assumed someone had seen him drowning, saved him, and brought him to their house. However, he quickly dismissed the idea, simply because it didn't snow in his country.
As he sat there pondering the situation, a thought crossed his mind.
"Have I come to a different world? Ha! It's an absurd thought, but it's really the only plausible theory."
Then he noticed something else.
"Why is my internal monologue so... eloquent?"
Normally, there would be a bunch of profanities, a little bit of offensive and dark humor, but now he felt different. Not just in his thoughts—his entire body felt different as well.
Jayden stood up and felt that even the way he moved seemed wrong. He looked at his clothes: black trousers and a white shirt.
He examined his shirt. The way it was woven seemed so... different. It looked primitive, but more complex somehow, as if crafted by some strange method.
Jayden also noticed that his height had changed. He had previously been 5'11", but now he appeared to be 6'3", or at least that's how it looked.
Jayden slowly walked to a mirror and looked at his reflection. His eyes widened with shock. His skin was a pure alabaster white, and his dark brown hair, which reached his shoulders, was messy but neatly cut. He was clean-shaven, and the most striking feature was his deep grey eyes. His doubts vanished, and he confirmed it: he had been transmigrated.
Jayden leaned back, inspecting his reflection, touching his spotless yet pasty white skin, and tracing his sharp jaw with his fingers.
Jayden let out a deep sigh.
"Well, at least I'm handsome."
He wanted to punish himself for being so calm, but the situation was so damn crazy that it didn't even deserve a reaction—like walking into a room and finding 10 men dancing naked to a cringey song.
"Why on God's green earth did I just imagine that?"
Jayden chuckled at himself, but his face turned serious as he went back to studying his reflection.
"Who even am I?"
As if answering his question, someone knocked on the door three times before shouting loudly in a childish voice.
"Mr. Leithford, Mr. Leithford, are you there? Mr. Leithford, please come to the door."
Jayden looked at the door, pondering whether he should answer it or not.
"Mr. Leithford, I can see the light from the fireplace. Please come to the door."
Yeah, well fck you too, whoever you are, cnt.
Jayden raised his head a little before speaking in a soft voice.
"Coming!"
He walked to the door and opened it. At first, he saw nothing, then noticed a child with flaxen hair and blue eyes standing below him. He looked down at the boy's serious, unamused expression.
The child then spoke with an unimpressed tone.
"Are you trying to evade your taxes, sir?"
What kind of question is that?
Jayden composed himself before replying,
"Mind your own business."
The boy sighed, shaking his head with a slightly smug smile.
"I'm sure your parents warned you about your career path, Mr. Leithford. I'm sure you didn't listen, thinking if you followed your passion, you'd get somewhere in life. Ah, looking at you almost makes me want to cry."
Can I punch this kid? I can, right?
Jayden composed himself once more, looking down again and saying in an unamused tone,
"You called me for something?"
The boy raised his head as if remembering something, then reached into the bag slung over his shoulder and took out a letter.
"Your taxes, sir."
Ahh, so you're a demon, huh?
Jayden took the letter, glancing at it before looking back at the boy.
"Well, good luck, mister. I have a job to do."
The boy started to walk away in a hurry, but Jayden's voice stopped him.
"BOY!"
The boy turned back, his voice filled with fear.
"W-what?"
"What was your name again?"
The boy looked at Jayden skeptically before answering,
"I... I... I WON'T TELL YOU!"
The boy ran away in a hurry, leaving Jayden standing there perplexed. He looked around, realizing that this seemed to be an apartment complex.
Wait, if this is an apartment complex, why the hell do I have to pay taxes?
Jayden looked at the letter in his hand before re-entering the room and closing the door behind him. He opened the letter and scanned through it, his eyes immediately drawn to one thing:
"Damien Leithford."
So, that's the name of this body, huh?
Jayden continued to read the letter. Although it was written in a foreign language, he could understand every word for some reason.
He realized that Damien had apparently taken a loan from the bank, and the letter was notifying him of the final date to repay it. Jayden stood there, struggling to remember if this was how banks were supposed to work. It seemed Damien had agreed to certain terms, and he had about two months left to repay the loan.
Jayden looked at the amount borrowed, a bit taken aback.
"60 kopecks? A kopeck?"
Jayden thought for a moment before putting the letter away. He turned his attention back to the room.
"Alright, Mr. Damien Leithford, who exactly were you?"
Jayden looked around the room. The first thing he noticed were musical scores on a table and the violin on the seat. He saw various collectible items made of gold and silver on the table. His eyes moved to a series of shaving knives neatly placed on the table. As his gaze wandered over the musical scores, he noticed a half-eaten sandwich.
From his observations and his experience reading novels, Jayden made a preliminary judgment about who Damien was. He was an aspiring musician or music student, financially troubled from taking a loan from the bank, and living in an apartment—or so Jayden guessed. He seemed to appreciate art, cared about his appearance, and was somewhat disorderly. Damien was also soft-spoken, judging from how Jayden had responded to the boy earlier.
Jayden looked at the moldy sandwich with disgust before tossing it into the fireplace. Watching it burn, he took on a troubled but determined smile.
"Okay, then: soft-spoken, financially troubled, well-groomed, artistic, disorderly musician Damien Leithford."