Deep within the forests, in a region utterly isolated—hundreds of kilometers from the nearest inhabited settlement—
lay the central zone of Jugesp, concealed beneath dense canopies of leaves and branches.
The breezes of the second month of 1897, according to the New World Discovered (NWD) calendar—the Month of Suntzu—drifted as they always did.
It was just a few days before the Blue Moon's full phase, Lunana, reached its peak in the heart of the Warm season.
And at this very moment, in this absolute solitude, a strange phenomenon occurred…
A bizarre rift tore open in space—a silvery fissure.
With its appearance, everything froze.
Birds mid-flight, leaves swaying in the wind—every single thing halted instantly, without exception.
The rift widened further, and in the next instant, something was cast out from within it.
Without sound or trace, time resumed its flow, and all things resumed their motion as if nothing had ever happened.
"Ah… ah? Huh?!"
A voice.
A person.
He wore clothing unlike anything worn by the locals—clearly foreign, unmistakably alien.
He was a MISFIT—existing in a place he did not belong to in any way.
"What… what?!"
His clothes bore no resemblance to village fabrics, nor even the luxurious garments of the wealthy.
Instead, he wore a strange red jacket—hoodie, as they called it in his world.
He had arrived soundlessly, tracelessly.
No sign of passage, no footprints, no ripple in the air.
He was simply… standing there.
Though he couldn't understand how he was even standing upright after such a bizarre transference.
"Aaah… Aaaah?!?"
He reached his hand into the void, but his face hadn't yet caught up to express proper astonishment.
His sky-blue eyes trembled, and within seconds, his golden hair was soaked with sweat.
"Where am I?!"
He screamed, pleaded—he understood nothing.
There was no logic to what had happened.
He simply… was here.
Deep in the forest, in a place utterly isolated…
***
Where… am I? A forest? Great…
I'm Ethan, from Colorado. I wear shorts and a hoodie together in every season—but today I broke the norm a little and wore pants…
Yeah, I'm just a teenager from the United States, from Colorado…
At least, that's exactly who I was a moment ago.
Just seconds ago, I was walking home, carrying a bag of chips and a soda bottle.
And now…
In the middle of a forest under three colored moons, as if it's some kind of party—and even my grocery bag didn't come with me… but my smartphone's still in my pocket!
Anyway, just moments ago, I was thinking…
Shayn was mocking my choices, as usual, and Amber was arguing over the last piece of candy.
It was an ordinary, simple, warm scene.
Then I was coming back from the store, and—"Click!"
The game changed the map…
I looked up at the sky…
And laughed.
Laughed again.
A small, hysterical laugh.
"Ohhh… perfect. Now I've become some cheap isekai protagonist. Wonderful. Where's the attached manga to go with it?"
I decided to try the official isekai protocol…
"Status window!"
Nothing.
"System!"
Only my voice echoed back.
"Skills menu!"
An owl hooted mockingly from a treetop.
Alright… so I'm not the main character.
I'm that poor guy who gets killed in Chapter 1 so the real hero can make a dramatic entrance.
What an honor.
Three days passed.
I wandered around like an idiot, searching for the "starting village," a "wise old man," or any NPC with an exclamation mark over their head.
Nothing.
I didn't sleep.
Didn't eat.
Didn't drink.
I discovered that extreme hunger isn't dramatic like in anime—it's just a headache, vomiting, and a body screaming: "Feed me, you bastards!"
Then… I started talking to myself.
I yelled into the air: "Fine… Writer-san, just give me a talking cat! Or a rabbit with a sword! Anything!"
But instead, I got sounds.
Laughter.
Footsteps.
Ah! The supporting characters' entrance! Now a mysterious samurai or a beautiful sorceress will appear…
And then I saw them…
A group of men in ragged clothes, filthy faces, and weapons forged from rusted iron.
The moment one of them saw me, he grinned as if he'd found a feast.
"¢^|°¥¥=π{=°•=€•?!"
Great.
A strange language.
Tight world-building.
Writer-san, should I clap for you right now…?
But I told myself: "Alright, Ethan… this is your moment of transformation. Now your eyes will glow blue, and the dragon's power will erupt within you!"
I stood tall… raised my trembling fist…
Screamed inwardly: "Come on! Transform! Explode! Unleash your power!"
But instead…
A punch to my face…
Blood…
Kicks…
Laughter…
And I realized my "superpower"… was on vacation today. Maybe taking a day off?
I laughed among them, laughing through the taste of blood.
"Haha…"
Brilliant.
Best isekai anime opener ever—the protagonist gets crushed in the first five minutes.
Amazing realism…
And now… I'm here.
Bound, my body bruised, my head spinning, blood dripping from my mouth.
Around the fire sat highwaymen—
pathetic NPCs without even names.
I nicknamed them "Bandit #1," "Bandit #2," and so on, for easier recall.
And me?
Just "the kid who vanished while buying chips."
Will they write a news article about me?
"Mysterious disappearance. Last seen carrying a grocery bag containing barbecue-flavored chips."
I pictured my photo on the front page… What a legacy.
I started hearing voices in my head.
My dad calling for me. My sister yelling at me.
Shayn mocking my choices.
Amber laughing as she stole the last piece of candy…
They were all far away now…
And I was here—alone, laughing and crying at the same time.
"…I don't want to die."
***
Midnight. Silence blanketed the camp like a heavy shroud, broken only by the gentle whisper of the fire consuming its logs.
Anton sat alert, his eyes scanning the darkness, his body taut like a bowstring ready to snap.
Suddenly, a warm voice pierced the stillness: "The sky… it's enchanting, isn't it?"
Anton turned.
Beside him sat a broad-shouldered man—firelight glinting in his narrow, vibrant red eyes.
It was Hao, Takashi's father, the merchant who'd joined the caravan.
Anton replied cautiously, "You may rest, Mr. Hao. Guard duty isn't your responsibility."
Hao grinned broadly, as if his heart overflowed with energy:
"Haha… I volunteered! Look at these shoulders—I inherited them from my mother's side. I've always felt I was born to fight!"
He waved his fist proudly, then laughed deeply from his gut.
Anton found himself smiling despite himself—there was something reassuring in Hao's liveliness.
But Hao's tone quickly softened, his voice growing deeper:
"You know, Mr. Anton… when the wolves attacked us earlier… my legs froze. I couldn't move. I felt helpless…"
Anton glanced at Hao's trembling hands but said nothing.
"But now… now I want to be useful."
Hao looked toward the horizon with confident eagerness.
Then he turned his eyes to Anton—his gaze a blend of sincerity and stubbornness, like a silent vow. He smiled lightly and asked, "Where are you from, Mr. Anton?"
"Entdeckt."
Hao froze for a moment, then replied in pure astonishment:
"Entdeckt? So you're heading straight back to your homeland?"
His laughter gradually faded, and he breathed deeply, his voice lighter and warmer:
"As for me… I'm from Xiangjun, in the empire of Todinoe. You've probably never heard of it—it's in Rtierran continent, far to the west. A harsh, rigid place… one that doesn't accept those who differ from us…"
He stretched his hand toward the fire, as if drawing a new promise from its flames, his eyes gleaming with something like hope.
"You know? My wife's homeland was destroyed in the recent war in the southeast of the continent."
Anton asked, "You mean the war between the Sovreika Military State and the Kingdom of Arca?"
"Yes. Since then, I've taken my family with me on my travels…"
He added, "But this journey… will be the last. Yes… I've decided. I'll return. I'll live with my wife, my son, and my daughter. I'll cherish every moment with them. I'll make my village accept my family just as we are."
He lifted his head toward the sky, where the three moons scattered their light through the treetops.
Then he whispered, with a wide, almost innocent smile:
"Life is short, Mr. Anton. But it becomes great… when you spend it with those you love."
Anton remained silent, but his eyes dimmed slightly—as if yielding to the warmth of Hao's words.
He nodded in agreement, sharing the dream without uttering a word.
Yet deep inside, his breath trembled. Something strange was creeping through the night.
He gazed into the distance, where the forest was cloaked in shadow.
*A strange feeling… Is the fog approaching the camp?*
Anton watched as the mist slowly crawled toward the caravan.
---
His expression tensed as he recalled Tamer's warning from hours earlier:
"This is Kona Fog… one of the phenomena generated by natural Kona. Natural Kona has two fundamental states: Stabilization and Effect."
" Stabilization governs the natural seasonal and regional climate shifts, while Effect… is less regular—mysterious, unpredictable."
"Sometimes it's nothing more than minor weather fluctuations—what we call Encryption Level Zero. Other times, it manifests as spatial, visual illusions or others"
Tamer had raised his hand toward the horizon:
"This fog is a spatial illusion-type encryption. It distorts distances and disorients those inside it—mixing visual deception with spatial distortion."
"If you pass through it carelessly, you risk getting lost forever."
He'd stepped closer to the group, his voice stern:
"Therefore… tomorrow, as we cross, we'll tie all wagons together with a single rope—to make the fog perceive us as one unit."
"I'll carry an tool that prevents us from getting lost. Normally, I'd chant a protective chantion against this phenomenon, but Lunana's full phase blocks me… and actually increases the chance of unpredictable, anomalous manifestations. So… be on your guard."
---
Anton was cautious, anxious about any irregularity. The problem was, the fog was dulling his sharp senses.
Hao's voice cut through Anton's thoughts:
"Mr. Anton, is something wrong?"
Anton replied hesitantly: "I'm not sure… I feel uneasy."
"Hmm… because of what Lad Boris warned us about earlier?"
Anton nodded. "Partly… but it's more than that. It's like—"
He didn't finish. A sudden sound erupted from the bushes.
Immediately after, a needle shot toward him at blinding speed—but he deflected it with his nunchaku in a flash.
Both Hao and Anton snapped into combat stances, their breaths tense.
Hao donned his iron gauntlets, flexed his fingers in a precise sequence—and Koshin rippled into existence around his hands with a resonant hum.
Anton, in turn, drew a second nunchaku, wove his fingers through practiced motions—and Koshin encased both weapons in a sharp, flickering aura.
From the bushes emerged three masked figures, led by two Bloody Wolves, their eyes glowing crimson.
*Five enemies… against two.*
Silence reigned for a heartbeat—then the fog surged like a living wall and swallowed everything.
Anton and Hao's eyes widened. When they turned, the camp was gone.
The wagons, the fire, their comrades—vanished. Only a gray void remained.
Hao whispered, sweat beading on his brow: "Mr. Anton… what's the plan?"
Anton murmured without shifting his gaze:
"Take the wolves. I'll handle the masked ones—they're likely why the fog enveloped us."
"Understood," Hao said, his hand trembling slightly. "I'll bind the wolves to me too!"
"Wait for the three to close in on me," Anton added.
"I'll make sure they're tethered to me. Those wolves aren't normal—be careful."
A wooden axe appeared in the hand of one masked assailant, wreathed in a red Kora aura.
A bright red node glowed on the wielder's hand.
The bandit slammed his foot into the ground and lunged at Hao—but Anton intercepted him with a whip-like strike from his nunchaku chain.
"Your opponent is me." He shoved the attacker back—but not before binding him with a Koshin thread linked to himself.
The female bandit among them surged forward with a long spear, her body bathed in Kora.
She aimed for his face, but Anton sidestepped, executing swift finger gestures that released Koshin energy into the air—deflecting the spear and binding her hand to him.
Before he could catch his breath, a sharp gust sliced past his side—"Whoosh!"
The third attacker, wielding a Dart Sword, struck with lethal grace.
Anton dodged by jerking his head—but not before anchoring him too with a Koshin wire.
*This way, they won't get near Hao…*
Blows rained down on Anton—uncoordinated as a group, yet each strike precise and deadly.
*They're not great at teamwork… but individually, their skill is formidable.*
Anton's eyes tracked them with practiced focus:
*Because of Lunara, the axe and spear users' power has increased.
Meanwhile, the Dart Sword wielder doesn't use Kora—but he's clearly the most skilled of them all…*
The axe swung down from above—Anton evaded with a lightning-fast bend.
The spear thrust at his flank—he blocked it with a Kora-enhanced kick, the mark on his leg flaring brightly.
*But it's not just them who gain Kora enhancements!*
The Dart Sword user tried to flank him, but the Koshin wire held him back—so he lunged for Anton's neck.
Anton stopped him by coiling his nunchaku like a shield.
The axe-wielder charged wildly, his strikes shattering the air with raw force—but Anton was faster.
He bent his body with astonishing flexibility, dodging a blow that would've split him in half.
But the spear-wielding bandit struck at the same instant—a straight-line thrust toward his heart, a lethal angle with no room for error.
Anton exhaled sharply, raised his Kora-wreathed leg, and delivered a brutal kick to her masked face.
She stumbled back two meters, blood spraying from her mouth.
Yet the axe-wielder didn't stop. Instead of pulling his weapon up, he pivoted mid-swing, aiming for Anton's extended leg.
In a split second, Anton raised a nunchaku—the Koshin-glowing chain coiled and struck the man's face with a solid thud.
His head snapped back, but he didn't fall.
That's when Anton executed his move.
In one fluid motion, he formed rapid hand seals—Koshin surged around the nunchaku, stiffening the chain into a rigid, straight rod.
He thrust it forward, gripping the other end, and drove it straight into the axe-wielder's forehead.
The impact echoed—he tumbled backward, rolling on the ground, dazed.
*How?! When did he form that technique?! And with this strength…? We were told he was the strongest alongside the silver-eyed boy! But he wasn't supposed to be this powerful…*
Anton didn't pause to breathe—
the Dart Sword user used the fog as cover and lunged with impossible speed.
He pierced through the mist like a spear, blade aimed at Anton's side.
But Anton had anticipated it. He twisted his body at the critical moment, then drove his Kora-clad knee into his opponent's stomach.
Air exploded from the man's lungs—he convulsed and collapsed, vomiting blood from the shock.
As the Dart Sword wielder writhed in pain, Anton allowed himself no rest—
a sharp cry tore through the fog.
The spear-wielding bandit rose again, blood streaming from her nose—but her eyes burned with hatred.
She erupted from the fog, planted her spear into the ground, and a red Kora haze enveloped her body like crimson dust.
Red veins pulsed on her arms.
She lifted her weapon as if it weighed nothing and charged like a whirlwind—
a flurry of rapid thrusts, each closer to Anton's heart than the last.
Anton barely blocked with his nunchaku—chains and sticks clashed against the spear in a storm of sparks and vibration.
Each thrust jarred his arm until he nearly lost feeling in his hand.
*In raw power, she's far stronger than I am…*
In a flash, she feinted—letting him parry a right-side thrust, then spinning half a circle to drive the spear upward from below.
Cold iron pierced Anton's shoulder—blood burst from the wound as he gritted his teeth, but he didn't cry out.
*But!*
In one swift motion, he dropped a nunchaku and formed rapid seals—Koshin wrapped around his free hand.
*"I've got tricks too!"*
He seized the spear with his Koshin-clad hand and yanked it toward his chest—dragging the bandit into dangerous proximity.
She tried to pull back—but couldn't.
*Damn it! It's fixed like a mountain!*
In the same instant she thought that, the other nunchaku—charged with Koshin—slammed straight into her cheek.
Her head jerked sideways, but she held firm.
Anton wasn't done.
Using his momentum, he headbutted her square in the forehead.
She staggered backward, blood flying from her face and brow—then vanished into the fog.
Anton breathed heavily, blood dripping from his shoulder—
but he could still sense all three moving, thanks to the Koshin threads binding them to him…
*How are they moving so freely in this fog?*
He turned around—but Hao was gone.
They'd been separated.
But he had no time to worry.