I opened my eyes after closing them for what seemed like an eternity. It appeared that I’m laying on my back on top of a wooden cart. My head throbbed in pain. My eyes slowly adjusted to the radiant sunlight under the blue cloudless sky. For somebody who only goes outdoors to reenact WWII battles because the sky in the 21st century was often covered in smog, this was truly a rare and beautiful sight.

I died. I know I died. I was shot twice in the chest and thrown out of the window in my office. So where am I?

Was this the Afterlife? If so, it smelled like… spiced rum?

I got up and looked around. I was laying on top of a pile of busted rum barrels, soaked in said rum. Oh, that might explain the mother of all headaches that I was experiencing. Did I land on this cart? If so, where did I come from? I looked 15 meters ahead of me and saw a crowd of people standing next to a stage in a bustling city square pointing and laughing at me.

Hmm, that was odd. I looked down at myself, and then I realized that I was no longer a slightly chubby 44 year old. I’d become a scrawny teenager. Holy Gandalf, I’d isekai’ed to a new world!

Hmm, I guess truck-kun was busy last night…

Wow, this is exciting! I’d always dreamt about this thanks to all of those isekai novels I’d read over the years! But I should be smart about this and avoid any rookie mistakes right off the bat. First, I needed to get my bearings.

I focused my attention on the nearby conversation the cart driver is having with a haughty-looking blondie teenager in a gleaming Knight armor. He had well-groomed wavy hair. He was in full knight armor from toe to neck (because he apparently wanted to whoop my ass while sporting a smile to the crowd). The armor was decorated with crystals of some kind.

“My lord, you have smashed my merchandise! How will you compensate?” The portly well-dressed man asks in a language I did not recognize, but somehow understood.

Oh yay! Automatic language translation- a standard feature in a typical isekai. It would suck if I had to burn a few years mastering the local language.

“Well, since I’m in a good mood after knocking this worthless peasant around, I’ll give you some compensation.” He tossed a few silver and bronze coins at the cart driver and then pivoted his attention to me.

“And you, foolish peasant. Have you learned your lesson? Have you learned how futile it is to challenge the might of House Galahad?”

Wow, what a flaming douche-nozzle. Fuck that guy. Anyways, let’s test this auto-translation feature to see if I could speak the local language as well.

After a long pause, I replied in a foreign language. “Sure.”

Awesome! No language barrier was a good sign.

“My Lord, this kid landed on his head pretty hard. It’s possible that he doesn’t even remember what happened, or even his name…”

“Hahahaha! Sometimes my power amazes even me! You, peasant. I shall bestow upon you the name, ‘Rummy’ in honor of the rum I knocked you into! Remember this day as the day Antonius of House Galahad baptized you in rum!” He then roared in laughter.

The crowd laughed jovially with this arrogant gasbag as he walked away from me and back towards the stage in the city square. His jewel-adorned plate armor gleamed under the sun as he strutted back like a peacock.

The guy was a pathetic cliche, but his gear was no fucking joke. In a crowd of teenagers dressed with old decrepit leather armors and braces, the few kids with custom-fit Knight armors loaded with bling easily stood out. Geez, that must’ve cost a fortune, especially in this medieval-looking world with its pre-industrialized economy.

Oh, I see. He was the legacy colleague of this new world. He was the guy born on third base thinking he’d hit a triple. He was the guy who thought coming out of a rich vagina was a real skill one should be proud of in life. He was the privileged asshole of this world…

Fuck, some things never change huh…

The cart driver walked over to me with a concerned face.

“Hey kid, you alright?”

“I’m OK.” I tersely replied. I was still not sure how capable this auto-translation thing is. So let’s minimize the word count to avoid any suspicious hiccups.

He looked at me skeptically. “Do you remember what happened?”

“I lost.”

He chuckled a bit. “Yeah, no shit. No commoner stands a chance against noble kids decked out in full Knight armor. I don’t even know why they bother with the Squire Selection Tournament in the draftee enlistment process anymore.”

I looked at him quizzically.

“Wait, you don’t even know why you’re fighting?”

“Does it matter?”

“No, I suppose it doesn’t. Listen kid, don’t bother with this Squire non-sense. When you get drafted by the Imperial Legion, try to get into the Auxiliary Cohort. Pick up a trade or two while you’re there. And if you survive the 3 winters, you could get a real gods-honest job after. Let the nobles dream about being Knights and Paladins, that shit ain’t for us common folk.”

“I see. Thanks for the advice.” OK, looked like the auto-translator had no problem with more complicated sentences.

“Don’t sweat it. Hey, I’m Mike. I run the tavern on Percival Street in the Market District.”

Oh right, I needed a new name. Wouldn’t want to carelessly expose my isekai status with a foreign-sounding name. “My name is Rummy.” I replied to him with an amused expression.

“Look kid, I don’t think he’s serious with that. You can go by your real name.”

“Nah, I thought it was a funny name to carry moving forward. And besides, I could really use a laugh right about now.”

Mike looked at me weirdly and chuckled. “Tell you what, kid. If you survive this thing, swing by my tavern and the first drink’s on the house.”

“Thanks Mike. I just might take you up on that.”

“Gods be with you, kid. Now get off my bloody cart.” He winked as he offered his hand.

I smiled back, took his hand, and climbed off the cart. Fucking hell, every joint in my body was crying in pain. As it turned out, this douchey noble brat hit just as hard as truck-kun. I gingerly walked back into the crowd (who, by now, completely forgot about my existence and were focused on the next “battle”) to learn more about this new harsh world I was in.

And what a harsh world it was. These Knight armors were no fucking joke! The next “battle” was between another noble brat in an armor set and some unlucky boy with second-hand leather armor and a rusty chipped sword.

The boy, perhaps in defiance of his ill fate, foolishly charged forward and swung the sword at the brat in Knight armor. The noble countered with a massive right hook, which violently smashed through the sword, shattering it into 3 rusty pieces, and right into the chest of the commoner. The poor boy was blasted backwards as a result, and before he was able to land, the brat in armor somehow caught up to him and punched him straight down to the ground.

*CRACK*

Well shit, that kid would be lucky if he could ever walk again. He landed right on his backbone with a force equivalent to a modern car crash. That was a truly brutal hit. Most of the crowd winced in pain while the noble brats brashly cheered at this display of cruelty. The “victorious” noble stepped on the heaving chest of the commoner and smiled triumphantly at his peers. Tsk, as if there was any “honor” in beating a “swordsman” with the magical fantasy equivalent of the Iron Man armor.

I supposed I got lucky - the body of the kid I took over appeared to be healthy despite taking a hit from one of those asshats and getting launched 15 meters right into a rum cart. But I should watch myself around these people. My next encounter with them might not end so luckily for me.

Those spoiled brats literally had magical armors capable of enhancing their strength and speed to superhuman levels. Based on some of the crowd chatter I’d overheard, their magic armor was powered by this thing called mana crystal.

Based on the fact that even commoners know about this, I assumed I’ve been sent to a magical fantasy world where magic was as normal as the air I breathed. Luckily for me, I was a poor uneducated orphan who just got drafted into the military- I could ask questions about anything without arousing suspicion. Unless their military was completely stupid, they would at least have to train us and feed us. This was how I’d learn enough about my new world to formulate a master plan to thrive in it.

I knew it felt like I just got off work, but let’s get to work!