Vague words that Roland didn't fully understand woke him up.
"Tch, why did this damned thing have to go woman-hunting at the worst possible time?" cursed a somewhat heavenly voice.
"Silence, thou fool! The creation stirs from slumber—guard thy tongue."
"I know already—thou needst not remind me, thou witless pretender."
Opening his eyes, Roland found himself floating in a boundless white world, unable to do anything.
'Where am I?' he thought.
"Ahem! Thou art inside one of my domains, creation number [???]," replied the heavenly voice.
Not a trace of the earlier annoyance could be heard in its tone.
"Thou hast lost thy life in thy former world through grievous misfortune. Such was not meant to be, yet by divine decree, even I am forbidden to restore a departed soul unto its sundered vessel. Thus, as recompense for this untimely fate, I shall send thy soul unto another realm."
Hearing the voice blabber mystical nonsense, Roland frowned.
'Hmm? The hell is this dumbass saying? Am I hallucinating or what? Must've been the wine…that sh*t is just too good. I shall drink more later…'
"Blasphemous creation! Dost thou dare to show disdain unto a god within our sacred domain?" thundered a slightly different yet equally heavenly voice.
"Thou shalt receive due penalties upon thine arrival in the other world. Yet, as this misstep was ours, so too shalt thou be granted due recompense. I shall cast thee unto a realm where thy withered heart may reclaim its lost vigor and bestow upon thee a modest boon. There is no need for me to impart thy mission, for thou shalt inevitably be drawn along the currents of fate. Fortune be upon thee, creation."
In the next moment, Roland found himself plummeting as though skydiving from a great height, yet he couldn't move a single limb.
He was free-falling, and the voices grew more distant with each passing second.
'Wha—? I haven't understood a single damn thing yet! Hey! At least tell me what I'm supposed to do and where you're taking me! HEY!!!'
Unfortunately, despite his protests, the voices did not respond.
He was already staring up at an unfamiliar yet lavish ironwood ceiling, its center adorned with an intricate design resembling a red falcon, before he even realized he had left the white void.
"Lohran!!" exclaimed an unfamiliar voice as multiple unfamiliar faces blocked his view. "Thank the gods! I thought we'd lost you forever! My dear… my dear Lohran…"
The woman who spoke appeared to be in her late twenties, wearing a luxurious black dress that blended modern and old-world fashion. She had long blonde hair, a drop-dead gorgeous face, and an angelic voice.
Roland—or in this case, Lohran—found himself being hugged by the sweet woman before he even understood the situation he was in.
'Hoh, this chick isn't half bad…' Lohran thought as the woman's scent caressed his olfactory senses.
He then turned his head slightly to look at the people who had gathered around him.
Most of them had fiery red hair, and they were all good-looking.
There were two men who seemed to be somewhat around his age, four kids who seemed to be their children, and two beautiful women who had different hair colors than the rest.
The woman hugging him was one, and the other had short, raven-black hair.
She was as stunning as the blonde woman before him.
'Sigh… they're probably taken, though. I shall respect these two fellows, even though they both look weak and fragile as f*ck… They should build some muscle like me, to be honest. How will they protect these beautiful women if they're ever attacked when they're so… small…? Wouldn't monsters like me just slap them unconscious with a single casual wave?'
"Hey, let go, woman. I know I'm attractive, but I assume you already have a husband, do you not? If so, then acting like this is a bit inappropriate, no?" Lohran said with a slight sigh.
Everyone was dumbstruck at his words, leaving Lohran rather confused and displeased.
"What?" he asked them.
One of the two men, close to his age but slightly younger, spoke—not to him, but to the woman who refused to let go.
"Celina, Lohran is probably traumatized and still injured. Let's call the physician back and have him checked first."
The blonde woman, Celina, reluctantly nodded and released Lohran, giving him the option to lie back down.
However, he chose to remain sitting instead.
Noticing that his point of view was lower than even the woman's, Lohran frowned, suddenly jumping down from the bed and walking to the mirror on the left side of the vast room to look at himself.
Pain washed over him, but he ignored it—he was long used to such sensations.
The adults in the room, however, were horrified by his sudden burst of energy.
"Lohran!!" Celina and a few others screamed in utter worry and fear.
"What are you doing?! You should be resting, Lohran!" Celina's husband reprimanded urgently, then turned to the maid. "Milly, didn't I tell you to call the physician back?!"
"Y-Yes, Lord Garwin! The physician is on his way as we speak!"
Meanwhile, Lohran stood dumbstruck before the mirror, his heart racing wildly with confusion and a hint of horror.
'Who the hell is this red-haired runt?!'
Is the mirror malfunctioning? What the hell was going on?!
Why had he, a six-foot-six, Greek-god-built monster, suddenly turned into a damn scrawny brat?!
He then remembered the two voices and their words.
The two, who called themselves gods, were spouting bullcrap about sending him to a different world while giving him both penalties and compensations.
'How the hell is this a compensation?! Well, the quality of this brat's face is definitely better… but still! This is more of a punishment than a reward! Those damn bastards!! What have I ever done to offend th—'
Lohran then remembered that he called one of the gods a dumbass, and now, he just called them bastards.
"Ahem…"
Clearing his throat in slight embarrassment, Lohran recalled what had happened to him before he found himself in the boundless white world.
He had lost to a damn truck driver!
'Tch, how embarrassing…good thing I'm no longer in that world…'
The next moment, he was grabbed by the man named Garwin by the wrist, cutting off Lohran's thoughts and prompting him to look at the man in an unfriendly manner.
"Hey, let go of me, bastard!" he growled, his voice laced with displeasure. "I'll punch your damn face if you don't!"
"Brat! I shall be understanding and let you go for now since you're not thinking straight. But if you dare spout similar crap again about your own father…"
Garwin's reprimand, however, was cut short as a huffing and puffing old man burst into the room, utter disbelief written all over his face.
The young man who was now vigorously arguing with his father had been on the brink of death just minutes ago!