Time: 9:30 AM, Morning.
A young man muttered as he stopped and looked up at the sky. "Ah, why is it so hot today when it's supposed to be winter season?" A mixed Filipino-American, he sighed and proceeded to walk. He looked down at his phone, which showed a chapter of a novel. "698 chapters left of COI," he noted, before catching his reflection on the sidewalk. His outfit was simple yet stylish: a black shirt, a brown, cropped flannel, and slightly baggy pants. His black curly hair reached the nape of his neck. He was handsome, but not the kind of devastatingly handsome that would make every girl stare with heart-shaped eyes, like a certain Uchiha.
Soon, the young man arrived at his apartment. Unlike some, his place was meticulously clean. The walls showcased a neat row of certificates and academic achievements. He walked into his bedroom, where a distinct poster of The Fool—a man seated on a throne with his face obscured by fog—was visible. His shelves displayed various figurines of LOTM characters.
He sat in front of his computer, booted it up, and started watching The Walking Dead, season 1, episode 4. "If I somehow got transmigrated to this world," he murmured to himself, "a Hunter pathway would be nice, even if it's only at Sequence 8 or even 9." He chuckled at the thought and continued watching. Then, he suddenly felt his eyes grow heavy. He pinched his thighs. "Shit, what's wrong with me nowadays?" he muttered as his eyelids slowly drooped shut. The last image he saw was his computer screen showing the survivor camp being attacked by walkers.
Scene Change
A patient in a run-down hospital in King County, Georgia, was in a coma, having been shot during a shootout before the apocalypse began. He awoke to find the world overrun by the dead. The hospital was utterly empty of any survivors, forcing him to navigate the deserted hallways to escape.
Meanwhile, deep in a forest, stood a secluded cabin. Inside, Arthur suddenly snapped his eyes open. A burst of headaches made him groan. "Argh, goddamn..." He slowly lifted himself up, his eyes warily scanning his unfamiliar surroundings. "Uh, this isn't my room. Why did I end up here?" A throbbing headache rushed in again, and memories from this new body began to appear, fusing with his own.
"Arthur Kenway... I transmigrated?" His pupils then dilated as he noticed a foreign memory: "Hunter pathway, Sequence 9 Hunter... did I end up in the LOTM verse?" He unconsciously started trying to recall the plot of Book 1 and half of Book 2, but then, realizing the potential danger, he abruptly suppressed and stopped himself from accessing the plot's content. Massaging his temples, Arthur thought, 'If I ended up in the LOTM verse, I'm sure as hell I wouldn't survive until the apocalypse.' Then, in the corner of his eye, he noticed something that definitely didn't belong in the Victorian era, even if he were truly in Lord of the Mysteries: a phone.
Arthur hurriedly scrambled to grab it. As he did, he immediately noticed the enhanced strength, speed, reaction, and body control of his new form. With his newly heightened senses, he could clearly hear the tree leaves swaying, rustling, and some distinct, erratic movements outside. 'Wait, erratic movements?' he thought. He briskly walked toward the window, his steps unconsciously silent. Leaning against the wall, he slowly peeked outside. What he saw was not a person, but rotting, walking flesh. 'Uhm, I guess I can confirm I'm not in the LOTM verse... but what world did I transmigrate to?' He glanced at a mirror, deciding to look at his current appearance.
As Arthur looked at the mirror, his reflection genuinely shocked him—but not in a bad way. What stared back was a tall, commanding figure with an athletic, lean but muscular build, clearly shaped by years of sailing and combat. His long, golden-blond hair, often windswept and carelessly tied back, framed a strong jawline, high cheekbones, and piercing blue eyes that radiated confidence, mischief, and defiance. Weathered slightly by the sun, his rugged features struck a balance between roguish handsomeness and a hardened seafarer, sometimes softened by a touch of stubble. Whether standing with casual ease or leaning with cocky assurance, he carried himself with the relaxed confidence of a man who owns every room—or deck—he steps onto. "Edward Kenway... shit. So not only do I transmigrate into the body of one of the most badass assassins, but I also have the Sequence 9 of the Hunter pathway." It might be overkill, but Arthur, now Arthur Kenway, was ecstatic.
'If this world is really a zombie apocalypse, even if it's not as inherently dangerous as the LOTM verse, there are still major risks: one bite or scratch turns you into a zombie. Not only that, law no longer exists, so people are equally dangerous,' Arthur thought as he thoroughly checked his reflection. He then turned to a cabinet and opened it. Inside, he saw a long coat with a hood, along with a black compression shirt and black cargo pants. He quickly put them on. After a while, he tested his mobility and movements, ensuring his new outfit didn't restrict him.
Next, he turned to the other items: a pair of hidden blades, a bow with a quiver full of arrows, and a dirk—long enough to be more than a dagger, but not quite a short sword. He slowly armed himself. The process of wearing and handling everything felt incredibly natural to him—from the intuitive usage of the hidden blades to firing an arrow and maneuvering the dirk. "It seems like this Edward Kenway's combat experience and the Sequence 9 Hunter power truly complement each other," he mused. "Heh, the strength of a bear and the agility of a cat, indeed."