When he struck the edge against another stone, he could feel in his bones whether it would hold or snap. He tested repeatedly, refining the blade with a precision that would have astonished even the most skilled ancient artisan.
All the while, the sounds of the forest reminded him that danger was never far, branches snapping, distant howls, and the rustle of unseen creatures.
Night deepened around him, and the cries of beasts echoed throughout the wilderness of trees. Yet, for the first time since opening his eyes in this alien world, he felt a spark of control. Not just over himself, but over his environment. The knife in his hands was more than a tool, it was a lifeline.
The system's whisper repeated faintly in his mind, like a heartbeat:
[Forge System: Resources Nearby Detected]
[Potential Alloys Identified]
[Primitive Tools Can Be Upgraded]
Li Wei crouched beside the fire, placing his crude knife on a flat stone. The flames reflected in his bloodied face, but his eyes shone with purpose.
Tomorrow, he would refine it. He would experiment with things. He would master this Bronze Age like a scientist with an infinite lab, but with the only lab being the raw earth, the forge, and his own ingenuity.
He leaned back against a tree, exhaustion finally catching him. His body ached, but his mind buzzed with potential. This world was raw, dangerous, and unforgiving, but it was also a blank canvas.
And Li Wei, professor of material science and now survivor of the impossible, would shape it into something extraordinary.
For the first time in decades, he felt the thrill of discovery again, not in a sterile lecture hall, but here, in the untamed wilderness where every rock, every branch, every drop of water could become a tool, a weapon, a stepping stone to something greater. Something worth admiring...
Tomorrow, the first forge would rise.
Li Wei's eyes fluttered shut for a moment, exhaustion pressing him into the rough bark of the tree. Yet sleep eluded him; every crackle from the fire, every whisper of the wind through leaves kept his senses taut.
Pain throbbed in his shoulder, his thigh, every joint, but beneath it all was a steady, insistent hum, of the system, whispering, analyzing, and guiding him through.
He flexed his fingers, watching the faint glow of energy through his vision, the Forge System highlighting every material nearby: the subtle difference between brittle and resilient stones, the tensile strength of bark fibers, the potential of sap hardened into glue. Even the water in the stream shimmered with information, its purity, mineral content, and potential for metallurgy processes encoded in his mind.
Night deepened, shadows lengthening and folding into the forest. Li Wei knew he could not stay here forever. Predators lurked, and while the crude fire kept immediate danger at bay, it could not protect him indefinitely. He would need tools, weapons, and ultimately, a proper forge.
He scanned the forest methodically, cataloging what could be used. A fallen branch lay near a boulder, it could be carved into a hammer handle. Stones of varying hardness were scattered along the stream's bank, some suitable for grinding, and some for sharpening. Even animal bones hinted at potential for chisels or needles. Every object was data, every element a potential resource.
"First, survival… then innovation," he whispered to himself, muscles aching but mind firing with strategy. The Forge System pulsed in confirmation, almost like an affirmation. He could create metal tools from native ores, but first, he needed fire capable of reaching the required temperature.
Li Wei began mapping the nearby terrain, memorizing ridges, slopes, and clearings. A higher vantage point would offer safety and allow him to observe potential threats and resources. Every step, every decision, was calculated, instinctual, yet guided by his modern knowledge of thermodynamics, metallurgy, and material science.
By the faint first light of dawn, he had secured a small perimeter around his fire, stacked additional wood, and even carved rudimentary spikes from nearby branches to act as warnings against predators. His stone knife lay sharpened beside him, each strike and test carefully measured, calibrated by the system.
As he sat back, bloodied, exhausted, and yet exhilarated, Li Wei allowed himself to enjoy a moment of awe. This world was primitive, but to him, it was a blank laboratory. Every challenge, every threat, every unknown element was now an experiment waiting to unfold.
And he was ready.
Tomorrow, he would search for metal ore, test smelting techniques, and build the first tools that no one in this age had ever seen. Tomorrow, the Bronze Age would meet the mind of a modern scientist, and nothing would ever be the same.
For Li Wei, survival had been just the beginning. The Forge System had awakened, and with it, the chance to reshape this world, strike by strike, forge by forge. The thought lingered in his mind as exhaustion finally dragged him into sleep.
When his eyes fluttered open again, dawn had broken. The chill of morning clung to his skin, the damp earth pressing against his back. His muscles protested with every movement, each ache a reminder of yesterday's brutal struggle. Yet despite the soreness, a spark of determination burned in his chest. The fire pit beside him smoldered, faint tendrils of smoke curling into the crisp air, a silent witness to the beginning of something far greater.
He stretched cautiously, testing his battered limbs, then rose and stumbled toward the stream he had discovered the night before. The water was icy, the current gentle, but it shimmered with clarity under the early sun. He cupped it in his hands and splashed it across his face, shivering at the cold, letting it wash away the grime, blood, and sweat of the previous day.
Then he froze.
The reflection staring back from the water's surface was not the worn, gray-haired man he remembered being in the university lecture hall. It was him... Li Wei, but younger, just twenty-four years old, with a strong jawline, unlined skin, and sharp, alert eyes. The face he had looked at in the mirror countless times during his lectures, only decades older, had vanished.
He staggered back, hands trembling as he touched his own face, verifying that this was no trick of light or water. "This… this is impossible," he whispered hoarsely, voice shaking. "I… I'm… younger… I'm… I look like a twenty-four-year-old?"
The realization hit him like a bolt: he had not merely been transported to a wilderness or a Bronze Age world, he had been reincarnated, and not as the old, retired professor he had been. He was now inhabiting his own younger body, free of decades of wear, yet armed with the knowledge of a lifetime.