1. Beginning

'.....'= Thoughts 

"....."= Conversations 

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Ron had always been a thrill-seeker, pushing boundaries and chasing adrenaline. Today was no different as he stood at the open door of the helicopter, the roar of the rotors and the wind a deafening combination. He glanced down at the tiny world below, a patchwork of fields and buildings, a view that never failed to excite him. With a final deep breath, he took the plunge, leaping out into the vast expanse of sky.

The initial freefall was exhilarating. The rush of wind against his face, the feeling of weightlessness, and the pure, unadulterated freedom made his heart race. He counted the seconds in his head, waiting for the right moment to deploy his parachute. At the exact moment, he reached for the ripcord and pulled.

Nothing happened.

A surge of panic shot through him. He pulled again, harder this time, but the parachute remained stubbornly closed. The backup chute! He quickly reached for the reserve handle and yanked it. Still nothing. The realization hit him like a freight train: his parachute had malfunctioned, and he was plummeting towards the ground at terminal velocity.

Ron's mind raced. He had heard stories of skydivers surviving without a parachute, hitting soft targets like snowbanks or trees. But below him was nothing but hard, unyielding ground. As he fell, a strange calm washed over him. He wasn't afraid. Instead, his mind began to replay his life in vivid detail, like a movie on fast forward.

He had always wondered if the cliché was true, if your life really did flash before your eyes in moments like these. To his surprise, it did.

He saw himself as a child, running through fields with his dog, laughing and carefree. He remembered the time he scraped his knee and his mother had comforted him, her voice soothing and her touch gentle. He recalled his teenage years, the awkwardness, the triumphs, and the heartbreaks. He saw his first kiss, his first fight, the friends he made, and the ones he lost. Every significant moment, every minor detail, everything flashed before his eyes in an instant.

Time seemed to slow down as he neared the ground. He closed his eyes, accepting his fate. The impact would be swift and final. He braced himself for the pain, for the end.

But it never came.

Instead, Ron felt a strange, jerking sensation, as if someone were pulling him from his body. It was a bizarre, out-of-body experience. He felt weightless again, but this time not from falling. He could sense movement, a disorienting sensation of being dragged through space.

Suddenly, he felt solid ground beneath him again, and the pain he had anticipated from the fall was replaced by a sharp, searing pain in his face. He opened his eyes, confused and disoriented, only to see a boot coming at him. The kick landed squarely on his face, sending waves of agony through his skull.

"이 개자식아, 일어나!" the voice yelled. "Stand up, you piece of shit!"

He heard shouting, a voice speaking rapidly in Korean. Ron's head was spinning, but he tried to focus on the words. He had studied multiple languages over the years, and thankfully, Korean was one of them. Through the haze of pain, he managed to understand the man was cursing at him, telling him to stand up.

As Ron's vision cleared, he took in his surroundings. He was in a room that looked like it was still under construction. Tools and bricks were scattered around, and the air was thick with dust. The man standing over him was dressed in student-like clothes, and his face was twisted in anger.

"Get up!" the man shouted again, this time punctuating his command with another kick to Ron's side. Ron grunted in pain, curling up instinctively.

What was happening? How had he gone from falling to his death to being beaten up by a Korean kid in an unfinished room? The confusion was overwhelming. Had he died? Was this some kind of purgatory?

"Stand up, you worthless piece of shit!" the man yelled, grabbing Ron by the collar and yanking him to his feet. Ron's legs felt weak, but he managed to stand, swaying slightly.

"I don't understand," Ron muttered, more to himself than to the man. His mind was racing, trying to make sense of the situation. He remembered reading webnovels and fanfictions about transmigration, where characters would die and find themselves in new worlds or bodies. Could that be what had happened to him?

"Are you deaf?" the man snarled, shaking Ron violently. "Answer me!"

Ron, instead of answering, took a moment to assess his new condition. His body felt different, unfamiliar. Gone were the muscles and strength he had honed through years of adrenaline-fueled pursuits. Instead, he found himself in a much weaker, slimmer frame. He looked down at his clothes—school uniform, slightly tattered—and noticed a name tag sewn onto the coat: "Kim Jin-soo."

The bully standing before him was still seething, his face contorted with anger and impatience. Seeing that Ron was lost in a daze, he took a step forward and raised his fist again, ready to strike. But this time, Ron was ready. As the punch came towards him, he instinctively ducked and stepped to the side, the movement smooth and practiced despite his new body's limitations.

In his previous life, Ron had been an international-level amateur boxer. He was a talented boxer who had achieved such level at the mere age of 19. Sadly he died before he could even turn 20, a lot of his dreams left unfulfilled.

Though the skills and reflexes he had developed over countless hours in the ring had not left him. His body might be weaker, but his mind and experience were still intact. The bully's punch missed its mark, and he stumbled slightly, off-balance and surprised.

Ron straightened up, his mind clearer now. He had come to terms with the incredible truth: he had transmigrated into the body of a weak-looking kid who was being bullied. The earlier hits had disoriented him, but he was no longer uncomfortable in this new body. He knew he could handle the bully.

Ron narrowed his eyes, his confidence returning. "I'm not deaf," he replied calmly, his voice steady.

The bully blinked, taken aback by the sudden change in Ron's demeanor. "What did you say?" he spat, his anger flaring.

Ron didn't waste any more time. He stepped forward, closing the distance between them in an instant. With a swift motion, he delivered a precise jab to the bully's stomach. "Oof!" The bully grunted, doubling over in pain. Ron followed up with an uppercut that sent the bully reeling backward, clutching his abdomen. "Ugh!"

The bully's eyes widened in shock and fear. He had clearly underestimated Ron, or rather, Jin-soo. "What the hell?" he gasped, struggling to regain his breath. "How did you—"

Ron didn't let him finish. He knew that showing mercy to a bully like this would only invite more trouble. He had to make it clear that he was not someone to be trifled with. "Hah!" Ron exhaled sharply as he advanced on the bully, delivering a series of quick, powerful punches. "Thud! Thud! Thud!" The bully crumpled to the ground, groaning in pain, each impact drawing a pained moan from him. "Ugh... ahh... no..."

Ron stood over the fallen bully, breathing heavily,"Stop making those wierd sounds!" He spoke as a frown drew upon his face.

The adrenaline rush from the fight was fading, and he felt a strange mixture of triumph and exhaustion. His muscles were burning, and he could feel the rapid thumping of his heart, louder than it should have been for such a brief altercation.

'Damn, this body is so weak,' Ron mumbled to himself, still catching his breath. The fight had taken a lot more out of him than it should have. Just a few punches, a bit of dodging, and he was already a bit winded. He couldn't rely on sheer physical strength anymore; he would need to be smart and efficient in any future encounters.

As he stood there, he couldn't help but marvel at the bizarre turn his life had taken. One moment, he was plummeting to what he thought was his death, and the next, he was in the middle of a fight in a high school in Korea. The sudden transition was surreal, like a scene ripped straight out of the webnovels he used to read for fun.

His thoughts were interrupted by another groan from the bully on the ground. The boy was trying to get up, his face contorted in pain and confusion. Ron's punch had clearly done more damage than intended, and he could see the fear in the bully's eyes now. The tables had turned, and Kim Jin-soo was no longer the easy target he once was.

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Image of our MC.

From the next chapter, I will call our MC Kim Jin-soo only and not Ron.

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