Finn had always joked that if he ever got hit by a truck, it better send him somewhere with magic swords and cute waifus, not another mundane office job. Well, joke's on him… literally.
The last thing he remembered was the classic combo: running late for work, crossing the street while scrolling through Pokemon fan art on his phone, and then... HONK!
Truck-kun had claimed another victim.
But instead of waking up to some wise old sage explaining his chosen hero destiny, or finding himself with a cheat system in a cultivation world, Finn's eyes snapped open to the sound of absolute chaos.
"THE BEAST! IT'S BROKEN THROUGH THE NORTH GATE!"
"Get the sickles! Where are the guards?!"
"Dear gods, it's heading for the children!"
Finn sat up groggily in what appeared to be a hay-filled cart, his head pounding. Okay, medieval setting, people screaming about monsters... this could be good. Maybe I'm the prophesied hero who'll…
That's when he saw it.
A massive Ursaring, easily eight feet tall and built like a furry battering ram, literally mauling a villager who'd tried to fend it off with a pitchfork. The farming tool snapped like a twig in its jaws before it went back to its grisly work.
"WHAT THE ACTUAL!!!" Finn's voice cracked as he watched farmers desperately swinging hoes and sickles at the beast, their improvised weapons barely scratching its thick hide. The thing backhanded a man with a shovel, sending him flying into a stone wall with a sickening crunch.
No. No no no no NO.
This wasn't some power fantasy isekai. This wasn't even a grimdark fantasy world where he could at least cast fireball or something. This was, he watched in horror as the Ursaring grabbed a fleeing woman by the leg, dragging her back with a bone-chilling roar, this was a Pokemon world where Pokemon were basically murder machines and humans were helpless farmers with garden tools!
"Where are the damn guards?!" someone screamed.
"Dead! The beast got Marcus and Willem at the gate!" came the reply.
Two guards. The whole village had two guards and they were already dead. The rest were just farmers trying to fight a literal bear monster with farming equipment.
"Of all the possible worlds..." Finn muttered, scrambling behind an overturned cart as the Ursaring's claws raked across a wooden fence, splintering it like matchsticks. "I could've been reincarnated as a demon lord! A cultivator! A badass swordsman! Hell, I would've even taken the 'reborn as a slime' deal!"
The beast caught another villager—this one wielding a rusty sickle—and massive jaws clamped down with a sickening crunch. The man's desperate swings with his makeshift weapon had done nothing against the creature's thick hide. His screams cut off abruptly as claws raked across flesh, tearing through cloth and skin like parchment.
The Ursaring's powerful jaws worked with horrifying efficiency, severing the man's arm at the shoulder in a spray of crimson. The limb hit the ground with a wet thud while the rest of him was dragged deeper into the beast's maw, leaving a trail of blood and torn fabric in the dirt. The sickle clattered uselessly nearby, bent and slick with gore.
"But NOOO," Finn continued his rant while a grandmother tried to beat the monster back with a wooden ladle, "I had to get the ONE isekai world where a teddy bear wants to literally rip me apart and use my intestines as dental floss!"
The Ursaring's red eyes locked onto Finn. It dropped what was left of the sickle-wielding farmer and began lumbering toward his hiding spot, leaving bloody paw prints in the dirt.
"I WANT A REFUND!" Finn shouted at the sky. "TRUCK-KUN, I WANT TO SPEAK TO YOUR MANAGER!"
Thunder rumbled ominously overhead. Whether that was divine laughter or just really bad timing, Finn decided he didn't want to know.
Well, Finn thought grimly as he watched the beast bumped against the wall of a wooden house. At least I can't say this isekai life is going to be boring.
The Ursaring was now less than ten feet away, its massive form blocking out the sun. Blood dripped from its claws and muzzle.
"Yeah, okay, I immediately regret that thought."
The beast reared up on its hind legs, easily twelve feet tall now, preparing to bring its full weight down on Finn's hiding spot. This was it. This was how his second life would end…as Pokemon chow after less than five minutes of consciousness.
But then a hoe blade struck the Ursaring in the back of the head.
"Over here, you bastard!" shouted a burly farmer, already grabbing another tool from a scattered pile. The creature whirled around with a roar, momentarily distracted.
That's when Finn noticed something. The way the beast moved, it was favoring its left side slightly. And there, jutting from between its shoulder blades, was a broken spear shaft. One of the guards must have gotten a hit in before going down.
Wait. Finn's brain, despite the terror, began working. If it's already wounded, and it keeps turning to face threats...
"Hey!" Finn grabbed a long wooden post that had been part of a fence, its end splintered into a rough point from the beast's rampage. "Big Ted! Yeah you!"
The Ursaring's red eyes locked onto him again, but now Finn was moving, staying behind it as it tried to turn. The other villagers, catching on or maybe just desperate, began shouting and throwing things from different directions.
"There! The broken spear!" Finn yelled to a woman wielding a pitchfork. "Drive it deeper!"
She didn't hesitate. While the beast was distracted by the farmer with the hoe, she rammed her pitchfork into the protruding spear shaft, driving the embedded weapon deeper into its back. The Ursaring let out a howl of pain and rage.
Finn saw his chance. The creature was rearing up again, exposing its underside. Without thinking because thinking would remind him this was insane, he charged forward with his makeshift spear and drove it upward into the soft flesh of the beast's abdomen.
The pointed wood punched through the hide and muscle, but it wasn't enough. Not nearly enough. The Ursaring swiped at him, claws whistling past his head as he dove aside.
"The legs!" someone shouted. "Bring it down!"
Suddenly the whole village seemed to converge. Hoes, sickles, pitchforks, even kitchen knives… anything sharp or heavy they could find. They swarmed the wounded beast like angry ants. Finn pulled his improvised spear free and stabbed again, this time aiming for the back of its knee.
The Ursaring stumbled, ichor flowing from a dozen wounds, but it was still fighting. Its massive paw caught one villager across the chest, sending him flying. Another swipe cleared three more people away like ragdolls.
But they kept coming. And slowly, agonizingly, the great beast began to weaken. Blood loss, exhaustion, and the sheer number of wounds finally began to take their toll.
When it finally crashed to the ground with a thunderous impact that shook the earth, the entire village stood there panting, covered in blood, most of it not their own, staring at the massive corpse in disbelief.
Finn looked down at his hands, still gripping the bloodied wooden post, and felt his knees give out.
"Holy shit," he wheezed. "We actually killed it."
An old man with a bloodied cleaver spat on the ground. "Aye. But at what cost?"