Jin wasn't entirely sure how life could spiral so fast from "happy market browsing" to "sitting in a grand pavilion with iron cuffs on his wrists," but here he was—kneeling on a polished wooden floor that reflected the light from ornate bronze lanterns. The scent of sandalwood filled the vast hall, mixing with the faint aroma of tea. Rich red drapes hung from the high beams, embroidered with golden dragons, and rows of guards in lacquered armor stood like statues along the walls.
Two guards stood directly behind him, spears in hand. They were close enough that Jin could feel their breath on his neck, and he fought the childish urge to lean back and mess with them.
Opposite him, cross-legged on a platform of smooth black wood, sat an older man in flowing indigo robes. His long hair was tied in a golden clasp, his beard carefully combed, his expression calm but laced with authority. This was no random merchant—this was the kind of man whose glance alone made servants bow lower and guards grip their weapons tighter.
So… how had Jin gotten here?
It had all started about an hour earlier, when victory was still sweet.
He'd slapped the girl back. She'd slapped him first—totally fair game in his mind. Then he'd grabbed the little black-and-purple winged cat from its cage, tossed five gold coins at the stall owner, and danced like a fool in the middle of the market, announcing his triumph to everyone in earshot.
That was before the screaming started.
He hadn't realized screaming could be both high-pitched and commanding at the same time, but this girl—no, this noble's daughter—managed it. Within moments, the crowd had shifted. Men in matching armor appeared like wolves encircling prey, hands on sword hilts. Jin didn't know how, but suddenly there were dozens of them.
Fast forward: now, here in the pavilion, the noble girl entered holding the cat.
She looked perfectly composed—too composed—but her eyes were sharp and cold. She sat beside the older man with the poise of someone raised in silk sheets and marble halls. The little winged cat in her arms tilted its head and locked eyes with Jin. For a moment, Jin swore—swore—it smiled at him.
He stuck his tongue out at the girl.
Her father's eyes narrowed just slightly. Then, finally, he spoke—low, measured, and in a language Jin didn't recognize.
Which… meant nothing to Jin, because that was the default situation here.
Still, he figured the man was asking for an explanation. Jin jumped straight into a chaotic ramble.
"Okay, listen, listen—I was there first, I saw the cat first, I liked the cat first, she slapped me first! First! And then obviously I slapped her back, because—what? I'm supposed to just take it? Nah! I don't care if she's rich or—whatever she is—she hit me, I hit back, fair game! And I paid for the cat! Money was exchanged!"
His hands moved wildly as he talked, chains rattling with each gesture. He leaned forward, back, and sideways, as though arguing with invisible jurors.
Everyone in the room just stared at him.
To them, he sounded like someone mumbling random syllables in a fever dream.
The noble girl's eyebrow twitched. The guards didn't move, but Jin swore he could feel their patience thinning.
Then—without warning—the older man spoke again… and this time Jin understood him.
Perfectly.
Jin froze mid-gesture, eyes widening. His jaw dropped. Then, in a burst of joy, he pointed at the man like he'd just discovered fire.
"Wait—YOU CAN UNDERSTAND ME?!"
"Yes," the man said evenly.
"Oh, thank—FINALLY!" Jin threw his head back, groaning in relief. "Do you have any idea how frustrating this has been?! I've been talking to walls! The market people—no clue. The guards—clueless. That girl?!" He jabbed a finger at the noble daughter, who blinked in mild offense. "Doesn't understand a single thing! I've been dying out here!"
The whole room was silent. Not because they were shocked at his words—only the father could understand those—but because of the sheer audacity in his tone.
The man's brows lifted slightly. "You speak an old tongue. One that has not been common for generations. Where did you learn it?"
Jin blinked. "Uh… grew up with it. Family thing." No way was he explaining time travel, memory gaps, and whatever else was going on with him.
The man studied him for a moment, then asked, "Do you not know the etiquette of this land? That striking a noble lady is an offense punishable by death?"
Jin hesitated, then spoke quickly. "Look, where I'm from, if someone slaps you, you slap them back. Doesn't matter who they are. She started it! She's the one with fast hands!"
The more Jin defended himself, the deeper the hole he dug. By the time he finished, even he knew he'd lost whatever "moral high ground" he thought he had.
The man sighed, clearly done with the conversation. "You wish for that creature?"
Jin's head shot up. "Yes."
"Would you do anything for it?"
"Yes."
That was how, a short time later, Jin found himself in a stone courtyard surrounded by shouting onlookers, facing a man who looked like he'd been carved out of a mountain.
Seven feet tall. Muscles that looked like they could dent steel. A sword the size of a small tree resting on his shoulder.
Jin stared up at him. "How the heck did you get so big? Do you eat mountains for breakfast?"
Someone handed Jin a sword. He gave it a casual swing—and the blade snapped clean in half.
The crowd gasped. Jin just tossed the hilt aside. "Eh. I'll use my hands."
The onlookers muttered among themselves. Some laughed. Others called him insane. The noble girl watched from a high seat, the strange cat still in her arms, its glowing eyes fixed on him.
Jin clenched his fists, a grin spreading across his face.
All he could think was: I'm getting that cat back. What could possibly go wrong?.