A violent wind lifted his hair. Mark's eyes shot open as something slammed into his stomach. He took a step back, staring at the object that fell on him, and suddenly he was alert to his entire surroundings, not a trace of languidness on him.
"My sweet bamboo juice!" the little girl who had slammed into him shouted, a bottle of something having broken from her hand.
She looked up at Mark and froze.
Meanwhile, the villagers of the village where he had appeared all stared at him with horror. Mark's golden eyes flickered from one villager to the next, checking their stats with speed that even he was surprised by.
All clear, all of them are weak mortals.
The girl who had slammed into him looked up at him with tearful eyes, the broken bottle in her hand dripping with something that smelled too sweet. On to the side—presumably—her mother stared at Mark with shock.