I woke up to the stinging bite of a mosquito and immediately sat up, swatting it away from me. It was dark inside—wait, where the fuck was I? I squinted my eyes and looked around to see if there was an exit.
When I saw light out where the exit appeared to be, I was about to head out when a splitting headache came crashing down on me.
I gritted my teeth as I waited for it to pass, but it just intensified as images of a life I never had flashed before my eyes. It was a painful experience, living through this person's life, and I wanted it to end quickly. But it didn't; it just kept getting worse with each passing moment.
By the time I came to, it was slightly bright inside and I was no longer confused about a lot of things.
First thing first: I have been transmigrated into a primitive world. Second, I have a cheat, which is high-potency seed and a big dick, which didn't belong to the previous host of this body. Third, I'm hungry.
I ignored the third point and focused on the first, specifically on this world and me personally. I used to go by the name of Dave; that's all I need to recall about my previous life. Nothing else.
Now I go by Bren. I'm in my mid-20s, part of the weakest and most mocked tribe in this world, Mudjaw Hollow. I have low status, considered weak and insignificant.
Which I don't blame the villagers for, given my weak will and shy personality, basically I'm a pushover.
The only thing the previous host did right was avoid conflict and run away from fights he had no business being in. It definitely saved me from transmigrating into a crippled body.
But it doesn't matter, because physically speaking I'm extremely weak, can barely lift a spear, let alone fight this asshat named Ragor Crooked-Tooth.
But let's forget about Crooked-Tooth and talk about this world, more specifically the Mudjaw Hollow tribe.
It's primitive, as I've said, but it's more than that; it's so primitive that the people themselves add to it with nothing more than their room-temperature IQ, which will only work in my favor in the long run.
The Mudjaw Hollow tribe is hidden deep in a dense forest basin, surrounded by swamps and crooked rivers. We have muddy year-round ground, huts raised on wooden stilts to keep them from sinking.
No shoes, so villagers wade through muck barefoot, accustomed to leeches, biting insects, and boggy smells. Other tribes see it as unlivable, which isn't far off. I just got here, but from the memories alone, I already can't stand it.
People here are thin, wiry, malnourished compared to other tribes. Constant mosquito bites and mud-stains. It's really just bad.
They believe in the Toad Totem Spirit. Their reputation among other tribes is basically dogshit; their economy sucks as it relies on trading fish, swamp herbs, and frog skins.
And of course nobody takes them seriously in negotiations, so they're constantly exploited. At this point even I'm embarrassed for them.
Then there are the traditions. I'm not going to get into them right now, because I'm extremely annoyed.
I got up from my straw bed, gave my hut a cursory glance, noting how it's made from reed, mud, and rotting wood.
I shook my head and glanced down at what I was wearing, a mere loincloth and nothing else. I'm fed up.
I walked outside the hut and the sun was already blazing hot despite it just being morning. I hate this place already.
From Bren's memories, this would be the time he drags himself out to join the other young men for swamp fishing or gathering roots. But I'm not Bren, well, I now am, but I'm the infinitely better version of him.
I need to build influence in every area of this tribe: political, spiritual, combat, and fertility control, leaving no room for these people to doubt me when I decide I'm more than deserving of being chief.
There's a bigger world out there, a better one than this, and I want to see it. I can't hope to do that if I'm still the weak little me.
My memories give me all the ammo I need to start manipulating these people. But where do I start? I need reputation, any kind of reputation, and where else better to start than with Hilda Swamphair, that nosy old hag.
She's excitable and endlessly talkative. Best part, she believes every rumor she hears and exaggerates them until they're almost myths.
She can spread rumours about me, but which? Oh, I got it, Lora. This might turn out to be easier than I thought.
I immediately went to Hilda's hut. From what I remember it's closer to the center of the village, near the communal firepit, where gossip and chatter always circulate.
When I got there, I met people who ignored me as if I didn't exist. The previous me would've been greeting these people as if I owed them money, but the new me just ignored them.
Which earned me surprised looks.
I finally got to her hut and, through the gaps of the woven reeds acting as a door, shouted,
"Old hag Hilda, come out here!"
The old hag herself pushed the reed aside and came out with an annoyed expression. I call her old hag, but she was still in her forties, pretty despite being thin and having slightly sagged tits.
She stood tall, taller than me, because I grew up while she most like ate better. Her brown skin was slightly cracked with some lines that showed her age.
Even though she was an annoying hag from my memories, I would still hit that. She looks like she still has some strength to go a few rounds with a young man like me. But today I didn't come for her, but her daughter.
She narrowed her eyes at me. "Who are you? Oh, is it Bren the Mudlicker?"
I clicked my tongue. "I'm no Mudlicker, say my proper name."
"Humph, what do you want?"
"I have come to claim your daughter as mine and breed another child with her, and this time one with a father."
Her eyes went from narrowed annoyance to mirthful excitement. "Oh-ho! Claim her, he says! Just like Bruk claimed me when the swamp spirits croaked thrice that night. A sign, it is, a sign! If the Toad Spirit nudged you to Lora's hut, then who am I to argue? Take her, lad, fill her belly and make the tribe proud! But mind you, if twins crawl out, I'll be the first to shout it was me who saw it coming!"
I knew immediately I would get this kind of reaction and that her mind would instead head toward the direction that this has something to do with the Toad Spirit, due to her strong superstitions. That's why she's the perfect first target for my future reign.
She didn't even give me a chance to say something before she jogged past me, probably to disturb some poor woman and gossip to her about what just happened.
But it's fine, that's what I want. News will travel that Bren has decided to claim the plain and overlooked daughter of Hilda, who until now no one would look in her direction, let alone claim her, except the bastard who knocked her up and dipped.
But Lora is simply a chess piece, not a very important one at that. What I want gossiped about is the Toad Spirit part. It's very important to my future reign.
Now let's go visit my lovely woman and quickly knock her up with my cheat.