Chapter 4: What a Terrible Life!!!

Waking up at the crack of dawn, I shuffle groggily outside, leaving behind my itchy straw bed. Making sure to not make a single sound, I take a step, waddling into the fields of damp morning grass, cold moisture nuzzling against my hardened feet. Closing my eyes and listening to the sounds of insects buzzing around, wren males calling to establish their territory, and frogs croaking morning to their neighbors, I feel … absolutely annoyed.

Why couldn't they just shut up for once! The fact all of them were just up and about, happily enjoying their daily routines as I stood dead tired and annoyed pissed me off. No - I wasn't jealous of some animals, I just was slightly upset at the fact they all seemed to be having a way better time than me.

Now fully awake and bitter, I trudge along the paved dirt path, reaching the rundown village well, plant overgrowth all over its stone bricks and patches of dark green fungus covering the ropes. Robotically drawing up buckets of murky water and lugging them over to the crop fields, in a few short minutes I plop onto the ground sweaty and exhausted.

Why I needed to bring so many buckets of water, when the fields were already irrigated, I did not know. Useless redundancy appeared to be a recurring theme in this world, that along with hardship.

Fourteen long years had passed since my rebirth. Fourteen long years of pain, sweat, blood, and tears … especially tears.

Enjoying my momentary break, I take a minute to enjoy the beautiful scenery all around me. Watching the sun slowly rise up, villagers groggily shuffle to work, and the wild running of chickens freely strolling about, an unprecedented serenity enters my body. Scanning the horizon, I can even make out the little mud and straw shack which I call home.

Wrought with large fractured lines throughout the plaster, the house somehow managed to be worse off than its peers. Tilted overly to the right, part of the base had sunken into the ground, making the whole building look similar to the Leaning tower of Pisa- only that ours was an all around crappier version and not even a tower.

Chuckling dryly at the scene, my mood instantly turns sour, seeing my new "mother" stroll right out the doorway. Interacting with her was like talking to a flashy gyaru, it wouldn't kill you, but by the time your conversation ended you wished it did.

Barring myself, it was safe to say that I hated every single person in this new world, my new parents on top of the list.

First was my mother, who served as a local soothsayer. Highly respected by the community, she would spend all day sitting at home, spouting nonsensical ramblings which would be eagerly gobbled up by whoever was listening nearby. This whole service had a dubious accuracy rate and was provided for free, meaning while we were screwing people over, we stopped only halfway.

That lost opportunity for a quick and easy buck sorely needed by the family was not the reason for my hatred however. Being a fortune teller it made sense to attempt clairvoyance on your future child. Attempting to do so once finding out about her pregnancy, my mother eagerly tried to see what future she held with her child, me.

The results were not so ideal. Immediately after only glimpsing into her divination pot, she screeched in terror, weeping that the child she was carrying was some monster of unparalleled evil. The whole scene spread like wildfire among the villagers and once I had been born, my public image had been set in stone.

It was really thanks to her, almost every villager looked at me with suspicion and disdain, giving me dirty looks or increasing the prices whenever I tried to buy something downtown. The only reason I was still standing and not hanging from some lamp post was my lack of magic. Case in point, I only prayed for her painful demise; endangering my precious life was an unforgivable sin.

Then there was my father, tall, hooked nose, and swarthy, the quintessential lowlife in appearance. As much as I despised my mother, my loathing for my new father somehow managed to surpass that.

A complete mockery to the original, he was an abusive leech, drinking away our meager earnings. Skipping out on any field work, he would just loiter around the village with his drinking buddies, all of them drunk and smelling like piss. Spending their days listlessly as wanderless bums, they would harass and even sometimes mug random passersbys who had the misfortune to chance upon them.

At this point, I wouldn't be surprised if they were even more despised than I was. Hell-I certainly hated them. Knowing all my hard earned work had gone into supporting a complete and utter waste of a man made me tremble with rage.

It was really too bad that the local bailiffs couldn't just outright execute those scum. Poverty was rampant in our village and getting rid of a few lowlifes who managed to pay their tithes appeared to be not worth the effort.

Defending the village itself and alerting the border guard for Mountain tribe raiders was a much higher priority when compared to killing robber hobos.

I was beginning to see definitely why that crazy bitch chose this world for reincarnation.

She had even sent me a "friendly letter" four years ago.

The contents read some something like this:

Roses are Red

Violets are blue

Drop Dead

Fuck you

Below all that nice poetry was a photograph of my unconscious face vandalized with all sorts of scribbles, most of them penises.

I felt bad for whichever unfortunate soul would end up marrying her. Having a wife with such a dirty mouth in both a physical and figurative sense would be a nightmare to deal with. I couldn't imagine Nagata making morning miso soup for anyone, the most she would probably do would be to order some overpriced delivery service and charge the bill to your credit card while you weren't looking.

Turning my attention back to work, I stand back up, now somewhat rested as I walk once more to continue my task of lugging water buckets. By now the sun had finally risen, warm and glaring rays beating mercilessly down on my back. Quickly placing down the last water bucket in its place, I make my way toward my actual job- the local brothel.

…

Located on the outskirts of the village, the Satin Candle laid perpendicular to the only road out of town. The size of a large family home back in Japan, its thick wooden walls were painted pasty aquamarine decorated with blotches of orange paint specks. Despite its tacky and questionable exterior, the building was easily the most luxurious in the vicinity, telling volumes of my hometown's pitiful state.

Catering to a clientele of wealthier travelers and merchants, along with the occasional local, it doubled as a tavern and as an informal community center, a place to drink, socialize, party, among other things.

Thankfully most of the "action" occurred in the evening with travelers stopping to stay the night accompanied by locals looking for some stress relief. From morning throughout the afternoon (my work shift), the primary task of the employees was to clean, wash, and collect supplies in preparation for the evening customers. Despite my abject disgust of cleaning certain "residue" left behind by satisfied patrons, the work was probably better than being out on the fields, tending and harvesting crops.

Physically strenuous work was still an impossibility, due to my weak constitution and stamina.

Thus I begrudgingly worked, a mere cog in a vast machine of debauchery and sin. As days turned into months and months into years, it felt like my soul itself was slowly being eroded away.

That and whatever was left of my dignity.

In a sad turn of events, while working, I would occasionally see my father near the end of my shift. Visiting regularly, these meetings were never about family and always had to do with business. Apparently he had been a regular even before my birth, back then making a point to sleep with every single worker he could before having me.

Let's just say it would be best, for both of us, if I never came down with anything like a seafood boil in the future…

Despite all of this, working on the job wasn't completely terrible. Being a business meant for travelers all over the realm, I would hear tales of distant cities, mighty nations, brutal wars, indomitable kings, and lost relics from drunk and chatty clients. Of course none of these people actually conversed with me, much less noticed my existence, but that was when eavesdropping came in handy.

And so, the brothel ironically became a place of knowledge and information. Disregarding all the different positions and exercises, most of what I learned seemed relevant- at least on a practical level.

For one thing, I now had a basic overview of the area I resided in -the province or oblast as it was called, of Sranje. A frontier province of the Principality of Ludovít it was, putting it bluntly: a shithole. A land of grassy plains and winding rivers, at first glance the region looked like a fertile paradise, a place where agriculture and civilization could thrive.

Unfortunately for me and the inhabitants, reality could not be any further from the truth. Bordering the Urak Slopes, one of largest mountain ranges in the known world, the province was neighbored by a group of natives collectively referred to as the Mountain tribes. Belligerent and savage, they would leave their homes and descend down the mountains seasonally, subjecting nearby settlements to frequent raids and pillages. Developing anything of value was a hard task when all your possessions were regularly being stolen, damaged and destroyed.

It was at this point where I began to ponder whether Nagata's decision to reincarnate me instead of ending it had been either out of mercy or sadism. Having experienced first hand her personality, I somehow got the sense that it was most likely the latter. Kicking another person while they were down did seem to match her character.

Striding towards work, I hurriedly rush in order to avoid being late. Lately business wasn't going so well meaning that the boss was more irritated and violent than usual. Arriving at record times, my attention is suddenly diverted to the small crowd ahead all gathered around my workplace.

Had the Church finally decided to shut down the whole operation? Would I be forcibly taken into custody for my involvement?

Narrowing my eyes I frantically search for my boss, hoping to get some answers on what exactly is happening.

Pushing through the noisy crowd, I manage to find the owner who stands silently chuckling to himself, as he stares at a large gaping hole smack right in the middle of the building's wall. Hearing my approach the bald jovial man turns to face me, his arms open and friendly, oddly contrary to our abusive history.

Already gleaming with sweat and flushed bright scarlet on his fat cheeks, he reminded me of those Western fairy tale characters my dad would read to me right before bed … Humpty Dumpty was it?

I don't recall Humpty Dumpty ever being a perverted pimp though.

"Ah Velko, my 4th favorite employee and son of one of my dear old regular customers. You see that is legacy: your father comes here sixteen years ago looking for a decent lay and then a few years later brings his youngest son to work at my establishment. Such a deep running bond between two families is so hard to find these days … I cannot wait until the day I am an old man and you bring your own son to work here." the fat man magnanimously declares, wheezing on the last sentence as he struggles to breath, most likely choking on his own lard.

If I wasn't on your payroll, I would be wishing for your early death right now.

"Good morning sir. " I say politely, ever the obedient worker trying to mask his clear annoyance.

"Ahh - so polite as always my boy. That's what I like about you. Always dutiful and diligent. Sometimes I wish all my other male workers were more like you. You haven't seen all the times when another employee your age tries to seduce one of my girls into quitting and running off with him .Bad for business I tell you. Tracking down the two and getting the girl back to work is always a gruesome affair …"

Well Maslow always did say immediate survival trumps sexual gratification. Also considering the things I've seen and heard your workers do, it's a miracle that I'm able to be within a 10 meter radius of any of them.

"Thank you sir."

Now can you please stop talking about your clearly messed up business practices? It's sorta gross having a conversation about this entire topic in general!

"Baah - that respectful demeanor again. I tell you kid - you ain't the tiniest bit like your father. Don't look like him either. Your face looks too nice and you're a hell of a lot more pleasant to deal with compared to that old crazy shithead. Some of my girls even talk about bedding you and gobbling such a cute prize up. " he chuckles heartily, spittle flying everywhere, some landing on my lips.

I want to vomit up my nonexistent breakfast now.

Being roughly identical to my old one, I was ecstatic to know my top tier looks were in this life, at least preserved. In a cycle full of misfortune and sadness, the very thought that I had something purely advantageous soothed my anguished soul. Or so I thought -it now appeared I was mistaken once again.

Wiping off the foreign saliva on my mouth, I turn toward Mr. Humpty Dumpty and address the elephant in the room.

"Sir I was wondering why there is such a big crowd gathered around here. Has something happened?"

For a brief second, the boss stands still, his eyes wide open, the size of dinner plates. Feeling that I may have broached a sensitive subject, I mentally prepare for the worst, expecting a delayed paycheck or even something more severe.

To my surprise however, he simply roars in laughter, all seven of neckfolds undulating like wild ocean waves.

"Bwahahahaha!!! You should 've seen it, a customer took one of those new hires to bed yesterday. Spent all night long doing it, and by dawn the first thing one of the cleaners notices is a huge hole in the wall. Couldn't even stop laughing all mornin' so I let the client go and told him I'll pay for the damages myself. " he wheezes, slapping my back with his clammy meaty hands.

How the hell does someone break a wooden wall while doing it? Do demi-humans exist in this world after all? Were there half horse varieties?

It wasn't often that I had been simultaneously impressed and disgusted to this extent.

"Bwhahaha! I can see the look of shock on your face! It's unbelievable how strong and sturdy those Northern folk are, I reckon they're almost as big as those Mountain men! Anyways, business is gonna be closed down for a while. " he slurs, removing a few coins from his oversized pocket. "Take the day off and buy yourself a treat in the village square " he adds, pressing the grimy metal into my palm.

"Thank you sir. Your generosity is boundless." I shout enthusiastically, my sycophant persona fully activated. Money was hard to come by these days and getting some form of unemployment relief was always nice.The generous act was almost enough for me to forget all the times I got beat for being late.

"It's nothing, kid. Think of it as a gift for your good work. Finding a worker as submissive and obedient as you is a rarity these days. Just remember to tell your father we'll be closed down for about 2 weeks" he interrupts before rudely waving me off.

Yeah… I'll probably kill this fatass if I ever get the chance.

Cursing in frustration at this new development, I decide against going back home and instead make my way to the village square. Now unemployed, I try my best to keep a positive outlook, reminding myself that despite the circumstances, I did get roughly 2 days' wages for free. It didn't matter that my wages were inherently low due to my father's oversized tab or that I had gone weeks without pay prior due to the boss's moody temperament; it was free money!

Busy coping, I shuffle along the dirt roads, my hands right over my head as I try to block the glaring sunlight from blinding my eyes. Once in town, I could indulge in a small treat, search for a new job and give the bad news to my most likely tipsy father. Hopefully the result wouldn't be like last time when he tried to attack the messenger. The purple welts on my shoulders were still visible.

…

I was going to get out of this shithole! I … I would save my money in secret, catch a ride onto some traveling caravan and would head for the capital, applying to be a mage at the Royal Academy.

So what if the chances of being magically attuned were 1 in a thousand. At this point my mental health hinged on clinging onto something however delusional. Besides, it wasn't like I didn't have any other options. My extensive education as a middle school graduate could land me a job in bookkeeping and a bunch of other stuff.

The whole plan was pretty sketchy all things considered.

Sighing tiredly, I carry on, dejected and depressed. Tempted to just run away from this shithole in frustration, my plan is interrupted by a sudden howling wind, its frosty touch sending chills throughout my body as it screeches by almost knocking me off my feet.

Considering it was noon and the air was still with heat just seconds ago, something definitely was off.

Quickening my pace, I began to lightly jog, my sense of danger on high alert. Wind was uncommon here , the ocean breeze down south blocked by the mountains. In the face of the unknown, common sense dictated you to either run or destroy the "threat". A firm believer in non-violence, I was a runner through and through.

Before I could show off my running skills, a bellow of giggles echoes through the air, straight up stopping me in my tracks.Terrified, I can't help but feel a sense of deja vu, a strange sense of familiarity creeping up my frozen body.

"It's been a while Higashi," a pretentious voice whispers gently from behind my ear, thick with spite.

Sharply turning around, I am met with a sight I thought I would never see again.

In front of me lies the witch, the banshee, the evil demoness, the psycho-bitch, the Archenemy herself. Appearing through some sort of magical portal, I stare flabbergasted by the appearance of Nagata who looks not a day older.

Puffing out her chest with a pompous smile, she snorts derisively, taking notice of my haggard appearance.

Bitches remain bitches I guess.