He felt pain—unimaginable pain. The kind of pain that consumed every fiber of his being. It wasn't just physical; it was pure, agonizing torment. Slowly, the world came back into focus. He realized he was lying on the ground, staring at a cracked wooden ceiling.
As his hearing returned, muffled voices filtered into his consciousness.
"You've done it now, Joh! You didn't have to kill him!" a panicked voice shouted.
"He asked for it!" came a sneering reply. "I told him this is my bar now—and this island too! Ha ha ha!"
Raucous laughter erupted, growing distant as the group moved away. Satō groaned, clutching his head. The throbbing pain was unbearable, as if a truck had smashed into his skull.
Oh crap... my head feels like it's been run over, he thought bitterly.
Then he saw it—shimmering text floating in the air, golden and radiant, right above him.
{Name of the Book Trial: Quest to the World's Edge}
{Challenger of the Book Trial: Hyoudou Satō}
{Fictional Ability Attribute: Mighty Phoenix}
{Fictional Offensive Abilities: None}
{Fictional Defensive Abilities: None}
{Fictional Attribute Level: The First Rank of the First Tier}
{Quest to Unlock Offensive Abilities: Defeat Booze Beard Jack and his pirate crew, who have taken over the peaceful island of Freshstar for three months. You have one week to complete this quest. Failure to do so will result in dire consequences.}
{Quest to Unlock Defensive Abilities: Quest Locked}
Still lying on the ground, Satō groaned, his thoughts a jumbled mess.
Man... what the hell is this?
Before he could make sense of anything, voices rang out again, drifting from the other side of the room.
"Ha ha ha! I think you're too drunk, Joh. You better pray the captain doesn't hear you going around saying the bar and the island are yours. He might think you're trying to start a mutiny!"
The words were accompanied by more raucous laughter. Satō gritted his teeth, his head still pounding, and pressed his palm to the floor. With great effort, he pushed himself upright, every movement slow and deliberate.
As he got to his feet, the room came into focus, and he finally took in his surroundings. It was a dingy, dimly lit bar, reeking of alcohol and sweat. The place was filled with burly, rough-looking men clad in dirty pirate attire. Their weapons—cutlasses, daggers, and pistols—hung loosely from their belts.
Satō's gaze shifted, and his stomach churned at what he saw next. Scattered around the tables were several frightened women, their faces pale and their eyes darting around anxiously. They were seated among the pirates, their movements hesitant, as if any sudden action might provoke violence.
The atmosphere in the bar was tense, but what caught Satō off guard was the way every pair of eyes in the room was now fixed on him.
Disbelief.
That was the only way to describe their expressions. It was as if they couldn't believe he was still alive, let alone standing.
Satō stumbled forward, his legs shaky but determined. He approached a pirate who stood next to a strange individual. One of the other pirates, noticing him, stepped back with an expression of sheer terror.
"It's... it's a dead man walking!" the pirate stammered.
Ignoring the commotion, Satō reached out and placed a hand on the nearest pirate's shoulder. In a low, almost casual voice, he muttered:
"Hey, man... can you bring me a cup of water? My head doesn't feel—"
Before he could finish, a sudden wave of nausea overtook him. He lurched forward and vomited directly onto the pirate's face.
The pirate froze for a moment before recoiling in disgust, furiously wiping at his face. His other hand instinctively went to his pistol as he roared:
"Man, what the hell is this?! This... this fucking revenant just puked on me!"
Satō, still groggy and unsteady, ignored the pirate's rage and staggered toward a nearby table. On the table lay a sword, its blade reflecting the dim light of the room. Around it, the frightened young girls shrank back, their fear intensifying as Satō approached.
Reaching out for the cup of water on the table, his gaze was caught by the reflection in the sword's polished surface.
His face stared back at him—but something was wrong.
His breath hitched as his eyes locked onto the gaping hole in his forehead. The realization hit like a sledgehammer, and his trembling hand reached for the sword. Picking it up, he brought it closer to examine the reflection more clearly.
The hole was unmistakable. Someone had shot him.
Satō's grip tightened on the sword as his trembling turned to a wave of fury. He slammed his free hand onto the table, causing the dishes and cups to rattle. His voice, filled with rage and disbelief, echoed through the bar:
"All I wanted was to get reborn as an overpowered main character with a harem! But instead, I get reincarnated... into the body of a dead man?! And this isn't even true reincarnation—it's some kind of sick joke! And to top it off, I'm stuck in the worst era imaginable! That damn brat... when I get my hands on her, I swear—!"
The pirate standing next to the one Satō had puked on barked orders:
"What the hell are you waiting for, Joh?! Shoot him!"
Joh, who had been pointing his pistol at Satō, hesitated. His hands trembled, and beads of sweat dripped down his face.
"Shut the hell up! I... I can't..."
His voice cracked, fear overtaking him as his grip on the pistol faltered.
"If he came back from the dead once, what's to say he can't do it again?" Joh muttered, his voice shaking.
His companion scoffed, reaching for the pistol at his belt. A smirk spread across his grimy face as he retorted:
"I always knew you were a coward. If you're asking yourself that question, then shooting him in the head a second time will solve the problem, right?"
Without hesitation, the pirate leveled his pistol at Satō's head. Satō stared back, his expression cold and unflinching. As the pirate's finger tightened on the trigger, Satō raised a hand, gripping his own temple as if trying to massage away the absurdity of his situation.
"Piece off, will you?" Satō muttered sarcastically, his tone utterly dismissive.
The mocking remark only enraged the pirate, who growled and fired his weapon.
Before the bullet could reach Satō, something pierced through the ceiling, sending debris cascading to the floor. The bullet was sliced clean in half mid-air, harmlessly clattering to the ground.
All eyes turned upward.
Descending through the shattered ceiling was a young girl. Her long blonde hair flowed behind her, tied back with a red bandana. Her crimson eyes burned with fierce determination, and her sharp, canine-like teeth glinted as she grinned coldly.
"The rebels of Freshstar Island are here," she declared, her voice ringing out with chilling authority. She pointed a cutlass at the pirates. "And their leader is me—your worst nightmare. The future pirate goddess, Anne Bonny!"
Anne raised her cutlass, the blade catching the dim light as she brought it to her face. Slowly, she dragged her tongue along its edge in a chilling, almost feral gesture. Her crimson eyes gleamed with sadistic glee as she flashed her sharp, beast-like teeth in a wicked smirk.
"Consider every last one of you sick bastards dead men walking!" she growled, her voice dripping with venom.
The pirates froze, their bravado melting into panic.
"Anne Bonny?!"
"She's here! We're under attack!"
Before they could react, several armed men burst into the bar, each wielding firearms and blades. Chaos erupted as gunfire and the clash of swords filled the room.
The frightened girls in the bar suddenly lit up with hope, their voices rising in relief.
"It's Bonny! We're saved!"
"Bonny's here!"
"Praise the gods!"
Anne smirked at the commotion. She reached for her belt and tossed a cutlass at Satō, who fumbled to catch it, narrowly avoiding slicing his own hand.
"You're an interesting guy," she said, her grin widening as she pointed at him. "A walking dead man... Now that's someone worth being my first crew member. Hope you can keep up!"
Satō stared at the cutlass in his hands, his mind reeling as the bar descended into complete pandemonium. Gunfire and blades clashed in every corner, the noise deafening.
He sighed, gripping the sword tightly, and muttered under his breath:
"Man, I really have the worst luck in the history of guys with bad luck..."