"I've been observing long enough. It's time to choose a place to go."
In a vast void, someone murmured to himself. He was browsing a list of intriguing destinations, pondering where to go next.
"Hmm, interesting. There's a transmigrator here? Huh, and he has a system? Who exactly gave him that? No, no, no. Only the weak need a system. I'll just take it away from him."
True to his word, the stranger acted immediately. The young man who owned this system didn't even have time to use it before he had to say goodbye to it forever.
"Now this is fairānone of that system nonsense. If you used it to try and crush me, that'd be annoying. It's decided, I'll go grab him to join me for some fun. Let's seeā¦ I'll need to seal a few of his memories for the best experience. I'll find someone on the brink of death, fix up their body a bit, and use that."
He quickly chose a body meeting these conditions and made his way to the planet.
ā¦..
A few minutes earlier, on a certain planet, a young man lay on the ground. He looked frail, wearing simple clothes that were tattered and caked with mud.
In his hand, he still clutched a hoe, evidence of labor that had exhausted him to the point of fainting.
The boy struggled to open his eyes. Gazing at the unfamiliar surroundings, he thought:
"What's going on? Where's my air conditioner? My bed? Am Iā¦ could it be that I've transmigrated? And by the looks of it, am I a slave? Damn it, this is a nightmare-level start."
[System connecting to youā¦ Warning! Warning! System error, goodbye.]
His emotions spiraled like a roller coaster, jolting him as if by a sudden hairpin turn.
"This can't be happening! System, my dear system! System papa! System granpa! Come back to life, please."
He was on the verge of tears. Just moments ago, he was envisioning a bright future, but now, all he saw was a bleak, endless gloom.
After a moment with no response, he thought:
"Looks like I really did transmigrate. Who would've thought the system would bail on me right away. Wait a secondāaccording to the memories of this body's original owner, his name is also Jett, just like mine. And this placeā¦ it's a world of vast seas, with a world government, and it's the Goa Kingdom. Could it beā¦ have I really arrived in that world? This is incredible! I've got to track down the main character. He must be somewhere around there right now."
Thinking of this, Jett felt a surge of hope. According to the novels he'd read, he must have arrived at a crucial point in the timeline.
Struggling to his feet, he quickly realized that his legs were shackled, making any escape impossible.
"Damn it, which scumbag chained me up? Am I really a slave to those pig-like nobles?"
The thought sent a chill down his spine. If he had indeed been captured as a slave by those twisted aristocrats, survival was unlikely.
Just then, a few people approached him, one of whom remarked:
"This guy just fainted, and now he's crazy?"
"Just ask him a few questions, that should be enough." another replied.
The man looked directly at Jett and asked:
"Who are you?"
"Jett." Jett answered instinctively.
"I didn't ask your name, I asked about your identity."
Seeing that the man before him didn't seem aggressive, Jett began to play dumb.
"What's an identity? Do you know who I am?"
The group frowned, then discussed among themselves.
"What are we supposed to do with this one?"
"Is it that big of a deal? If he doesn't know how to work, we'll just cut his food."
One of them turned to Jett and said:
"Look at those people over there and work like they do. If you work, you get food."
Seeing their surprisingly calm approach, Jett pressed his luck.
"I'm not doing this. Don't even think about making me do heavy labor."
The men frowned, and one suggested:
"Should we give him a beating?"
"Why bother?"
Hearing this, Jett felt a glimmer of joy, thinking he might actually have a way out. But reality hit hardā¦
"If we beat him, we waste our energy, and he loses his ability to work. No one benefits. Just reduce his food rationsāhe'll work when he's hungry. If not, we'll toss him to the fish."
This was the practical approach: why bother hitting slaves? It only tired the enforcers out and left the slaves unable to work. Simply cutting food rations was far more effective.
The rules here were simple: work more, get more food; work less, get less.
Jett shuddered at the man's calm, casual tone. Left with no choice, he replied:
"Iā¦ I can work, but right now I really don't have the strength to hold a hoe."
One of the men pulled out a hard, stale piece of bread and said:
"This is all there is. Even if you fainted and turned stupid, there's no special treatment. Being sick has never been an excuse to avoid work."
With that, they walked off to continue their supervision, leaving Jett trembling with the tough bread in his hand.
He took a tentative bite, and it tasted as if it had been left out in the open for days. He muttered to himself:
"How did I end up in this miserable situation? My bedā¦ my foodā¦ my gamesā¦ my air conditionerā¦ I just have to survive here, somehow. If I can join the main character's crew, I'll truly soar. For the future, let's go!"
But complaining wouldn't change anything. Now that he was here, he had no choice but to accept it; there was no way back.
He forced himself to eat the bread to regain some strength and then reluctantly began working.
Meanwhile, elsewhere, another frail young man stumbled and fell, only to bounce back up with a laugh:
"Hahaha! Time to set sail!"
His shout drew the attention of those nearby. A supervisor approached, holding a wooden stick, and asked:
"Where do you think you're going?"
Kai looked at him, grinning:
"Of course, I'm going out to sea."
"Hmph, hurry up and get back to work. Don't forget you're a slave."
"So what? I'm going to the sea, and you try stopping me."
The supervisor felt challenged. Normally, he wouldn't bother hitting anyone, but letting this go unanswered would be weak.
Without hesitation, he swung the wooden stick straight at Kai's head, not holding back at all. A hit like that could easily be fatal for someone as frail as Kai.