Dark. Cold. Rotten stench.
The room was cramped and filthy, like an abandoned storage space. The walls were covered in graffiti, the pungent smell of alcohol stung his nose, and the sound of water dripping from a leaky ceiling echoed in the silence.
A young man lay sprawled on the cold floor, his body naked, covered in bruises and welts.
"Ugh… damn it…"
His eyelids trembled before finally opening. His breath was ragged—like someone who had just escaped drowning. His vision blurred for a moment before sweeping over the dingy room.
Rough, cold concrete floors, the stench of sweat, and dried bloodstains all around him.
Slowly, he tried to move his hands, but the moment he even twitched—
"Ghh…!!"
A searing pain shot through his body. It felt like being crushed under a heavy iron plate—every bone and muscle screaming in agony. Even moving a finger was a struggle.
"W-What… happened…?"
It was as if this body wasn't his own, as if every joint and muscle had been shattered.
And then—
BANG!
Suddenly, his head felt like it was struck by a sledgehammer!
"AARRRGH!!!"
He writhed, clutching his head with both hands, overwhelmed by an excruciating pain that made it feel like his skull was about to explode.
Then, like a film playing at high speed, foreign memories flooded his mind.
Memories That Were Not His Own
Tatsuya Kurogane.
Eighteen years old. A senior at Shinsei Academy, a prestigious school.
A boy with no father or mother, only a stepmother he despised.
His mother had died when he was ten. After that, he lived alone with his father until he was seventeen.
Then, one year ago, his father suddenly brought a young woman home and said, "From now on, she's your mother."
A young and beautiful stepmother.
The original owner of this body rejected her, loathed her existence.
But… one month after their marriage, his father died.
Cause of death: exhaustion in a woman's embrace.
"…An old bull ate young grass until he dropped dead? What the hell?"
The original owner of this body… became an orphan overnight.
Living with a stepmother he refused to acknowledge, humiliated and bullied at school, and finally ending up here…
In this filthy room, after being beaten and stripped naked by his tormentors.
Awakening
"…I see."
The pain in his head started to subside.
At last, he could think clearly.
He had transmigrated.
From his original world… into the body of this coward.
"…Hah."
A scornful smile formed on his lips.
He looked up, staring blankly at the cracked ceiling.
"How pathetic…"
He let out a deep sigh, eyes fixed on the fractured ceiling above.
"To be trampled on like this? Couldn't you fight back, even just once?"
There was a small chuckle, not just of mockery—but of disbelief.
Then—
"…But don't worry."
His smile twisted into a cold smirk.
"I'll make good use of this body."
Like a king ascending his throne, he accepted this body as his own.
Just as he was trying to digest the memories of this body—
Suddenly, he felt…
Itchy.
A strange, unbearable itch spread across his entire body.
"Agh... What the hell?"
He scratched his neck, then his back, then his arms. But the more he scratched, the more it spread.
Then, his eyes fell on his own body.
His bruises… were disappearing?!
The welts that should've taken two weeks to heal were fading within seconds.
"…Are you kidding me?"
His eyes widened as he lifted his hands, staring at the once battered skin now returning to its original state.
"A golden finger…?"
The thought immediately crossed his mind.
As a former web novel reader, he was all too familiar with this concept.
"...Healing ability? Regeneration?"
He clenched his fist, feeling his muscles regain their strength.
"This… is interesting."
His once lifeless expression now sparkled with excitement.
He flexed his fingers, feeling the power return.
"Heh… Nice! Looks like I've got rapid recovery!"
But then—
"GHHH!!"
A sudden, gnawing pain twisted in his stomach.
A deep emptiness burned from within, gripping his insides.
His legs weakened, knees nearly buckling to the ground.
"Damn… this feeling…"
"H-Hungry…"
It was as if every ounce of energy in his body had been drained to fuel his accelerated healing, leaving him starving beyond reason.
"Damn it, why am I this hungry?"
Clutching his stomach, he scanned the filthy room.
No food.
Just a cold concrete floor, graffiti-covered walls, and the stench of alcohol.
"Wait… I can't starve to death here, can I?"
His footsteps echoed harshly as he frantically searched for anything useful.
In the corner of the room, he spotted a pile of dirty clothes.
The tattered, sweat-stained remnants of what the bullies had stripped off him earlier.
"…Hah. Better than being naked."
Without hesitation, he put on the ragged clothes, ignoring the unpleasant smell.
He didn't care.
Right now, food was the priority.
With hurried steps, he left the room, heading outside—
Searching for something to eat.
Tatsuya stepped out of the abandoned building.
Fresh air hit him immediately, but he had no time to enjoy the sensation of freedom.
His stomach still twisted in hunger, clouding his thoughts.
He scanned his surroundings—behind him stood an old, dilapidated school building, its walls cracked and covered in moss.
According to this body's memories, this was where the school thugs hung out. A place where they tortured weaklings like the previous owner of this body.
"But that's not important right now."
The only thing that mattered was food.
Tatsuya sighed, trying to recall the way out of this area.
—I can't starve to death.
If other transmigrators knew I died just because of hunger, wouldn't that disgrace all transmigrators?
They'd laugh at me in the afterlife!
Wasting no time, he moved quickly to leave the area.
---
A few minutes later…
On his way, Tatsuya suddenly stopped.
"...Shit."
His expression darkened as he searched the pockets of his ragged pants.
Nothing.
Not even a single coin.
"Don't tell me…"
The memories of this body surfaced in his mind.
—The school thugs took my money.
"...Are you serious?"
Now he was truly desperate.
No money meant no food.
No food meant he would starve.
Am I really going to die because of this?!
No! No way!
Suddenly, Tatsuya spotted something.
Across the street, a small child was carrying a plastic bag filled with snacks.
His eyes widened.
Food.
His mind went blank, fixated on only one thing—
I need to eat.
The child hummed happily, unaware that someone with a starving, ghostly gaze was approaching.
Tatsuya clenched his jaw.
—I don't want to rob a kid.
But there was no other choice.
If he didn't, he might die of starvation!
And so—
SREK!!
With a swift motion, Tatsuya snatched the plastic bag from the child's hands!
"...Eh?"
The child froze, eyes wide.
Then—
"UWAAAAAHH!!"
A wail erupted, echoing through the street.
But the moment the child saw Tatsuya's battered face and sharp, lifeless eyes, he immediately trembled in fear.
Tatsuya Kurogane, with his bruised face and piercing gaze, looked like a starving ghost straight out of hell.
—Like a demon risen from the grave.
Without hesitation, the child ran off crying.
Tatsuya didn't care.
He sat on the roadside, hands trembling as he tore open the bag and devoured its contents.
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
Bread, biscuits, chocolate—he devoured everything as if he hadn't eaten in days.
After a few minutes, he finally felt slightly better.
"…Hah."
He stared at the now-empty plastic bag, letting out a long sigh.
His mouth tasted sweet, but a bitter sensation lingered in his throat.
He let out a quiet laugh.
"I've really fallen this low, huh?"
But as he rubbed his slightly fuller stomach, one thing was certain—
He was alive. And that was all that mattered.
All his regret for stealing food from the child vanished instantly.
It was as if he had never robbed that child in the first place.
He lifted his head, gazing at the darkening sky.
Then, he stood up and slowly walked toward the place he called home, relying on the original owner's memories.