'What is...'
Tenshou's thought cut off as memories crashed into his mind like a dam bursting. Images, emotions, experiences that belonged to someone else yet felt intimately familiar slammed into him one after another.
He couldn't move. Couldn't speak. For a full minute, he sat in the filthy alley, body trembling as fourteen years of another person's life played out behind his eyes in fast-forward.
Born to a fallen noble clan. That was the first coherent thought emerging from the chaos.
The Shinra Clan. Once one of the mighty pillars supporting the Empire itself, now reduced to him alone.
His parents died at his birth, in a desperate attempt to preserve their child's life from enemy forces. The recollection of that day remained completely blurry, but the emotions attached burned bright and clear. Love. Sacrifice. Desperation.
A kind old man who'd taken in an orphaned noble child and raised him as his own. Weathered hands teaching him to fish. Patient voice explaining the world. Eyes that crinkled with warmth when he smiled.
Gone. Dead three months ago.
'The Black Dragon kidnapped me to experiment on aura, and when it failed, they dumped me here to die.'
The memory surfaced with sickening clarity. Rough hands dragging him from bed. A cloth pressed over his mouth until darkness took him. Waking up strapped to a cold metal table while figures in dark robes discussed him like a lab rat.
Pain. So much pain as they tried to force something called 'aura' to manifest within his young body. Needles and procedures that made him scream until his voice gave out.
Then failure. Disappointment in their voices. And finally, callous disposal—tossing his broken body into this alley like garbage.
The Black Dragon was simply one of the underground forces in the Empire. Mainly active in Kazekuni State, Eastern Territory, where people disappeared without questions being asked.
Tenshou grew up in Blue River Village. A small settlement built close to the famous Blue River, where crystal-clear water provided life to thousands of families who made their living by fishing.
Tenshou shook his head violently, trying to separate his own identity from the one thrust upon him. First things first. Medical assessment.
As the King of Martial Arts back on Earth, his master had drilled human physiology into him. He ran careful fingers along his limbs, checking for breaks. Pressed gently against his ribs, feeling for fractures.
'Hmm, aside from feeling weak and the severe lack of nutrition, there isn't any major issue.'
Relief flooded through him. Whatever those monsters had done, they hadn't caused permanent damage. His body was malnourished and exhausted, but it would recover.
'But this... I really transmigrated? No, it looked more like I fused with the soul of this body at birth... but I'm only now awakening my past life memories.'
He had clear memories of being Shinra Tenshou from birth until three days ago. But underneath, like a river flowing beneath ice, he could feel his Earth memories. His training with Master Gekko. His victories in tournaments. The mountain where everything changed.
'Hmm, so reincarnated or something else?'
Did it matter? He was alive. He was here. And judging by the pain in his stomach, he had more immediate concerns.
"Whatever." His voice came out as barely a whisper, throat raw. "At least I'm alive. But Master..."
Master Gekko's weathered face flashed through his mind. That final moment when strong hands had pushed him toward the portal, when ancient eyes had looked at him with such profound sadness.
"I really hope you'll be okay."
He thought of all his master had said, which allowed him to conclude that truly powerful beings can even travel through time and worlds.
"As my master's only disciple, I must become no less than him in the future, but first..."
*Gurgle...*
'This body needs food.'
After resting for a while, Tenshou managed to drag his body to where he lived.
Getting home to see everything intact, he heaved a sigh of relief. Because it was so late in the night, he didn't encounter anyone on the road. Even the night duty personnel was snoring at his post.
Tenshou shook the distracting thoughts and entered inside.
He looked at the simple home made mainly of wood and warmed the food he had eaten in the morning before his unfaithful encounter.
The familiar scent hit him immediately—old wood, cooking spices, and that indefinable smell that meant safety and belonging. For a moment, the overwhelming strangeness of his situation faded. This was home.
It wasn't much. A single main room that served as kitchen, dining area, and living space. A small sleeping alcove barely large enough for a bed. Windows covered with paper screens. But it was his.
His stomach growled again, and he warmed the cold, congealed ramen over the small cooking fire. The first bite tasted like heaven. His body's desperate hunger made even the basic ramen seem like the finest cuisine.
Only when the bowl sat empty did exhaustion crash over him like a wave. His body was running on fumes and determination alone. He needed sleep. Real sleep, not the unconscious darkness that had claimed him in that alley.
But as he prepared to collapse onto his small bed, fragments of overheard conversation echoed in his mind. Words his kidnappers had spoken when they thought he was too far gone to understand.
He ate the ramen and then went to sleep immediately as he thought about the few words his kidnappers said.
'Aura, huh?'