A light groan came out from a man as his groggy eyes adapted to the lighting around him. He blinked a few times before his vision cleared, finding himself lying on a rundown bed, surrounded by rotting wooden walls and a thick scent of earth.
"Where am I?" he murmured while looking around, feeling that everything was both new and odd. He had just taken a nap after a long day at work, and now, this? What was this all about? A prank?
"Did I just transmigrate? Like those in the novels?" he pondered while feeling the cold breeze coming out in the night. The clothes hanging on his body were loose and dirty, and couldn't do anything against the cold.
"No, maybe it's a dream." He muttered, "But this is too real. Might look around first."
He rubbed his hands for warmth and decided to explore.
The dilapidated house offered barely any comfort aside from the rooftop cover, which creaked horribly in the night and made it hard to sleep well.
A few farming tools lay out on the side, coupled with a few worn sacks, possibly used to store produce. Thinking of food, his stomach grumbled in complaint, but he paid it no mind.
The house had anything but plenty, especially food, and he wasn't desperate enough to chew through those seeds spilling out from the pouch on top of a table.
After surveying the entire house, Yuri wrinkled his nose. The scent of rotten wood, farming tools, and sweat made him frown and feel uncomfortable all over. The place was cramped, barely enough for him.
"What a mess." He clicked his tongue, pondering over his next actions. He hadn't even gotten the memories the so-called transmigration gave him, and there wasn't a hint of a golden finger either. Just cold, creaking walls and the unfamiliar body he now inhabited.
He sighed. "Guess I need to figure out what kind of world this is first."
He peered out the window and spotted a small dirt road leading to a few other wooden houses. They lined up, facing a large area of farmland ahead.
"Less modern then…?" Yuri felt chilled, entertaining the thoughts of savage animals lurking outside. The thought itself creeped him to death, forcing him to think it over and withdraw his head from the window.
He felt uneasy all over, blaming his mind for overthinking every time night came.
"No point in overthinking this. Sleep first, think later."
He returned to his rundown bed and lay flat on it, blankly staring at the ceiling. The incessant creaking made him long for his old apartment: the humming of the AC, the glow of his wide monitor, and the mess he never cleaned.
As his thoughts wandered, his eyes drooped down, and he was soon asleep.
A rooster's crow pierced through the morning silence.
Yuri's eyes snapped open, bolting upright and scanning the room.
"Still here…" he exhaled slowly, "So it wasn't a dream."
He sighed, maybe in relief, or regret.
Life has been good to him recently, finding a decent job and a budding career. There was a glimpse of the future he could have been proud of.
Now? That life was gone, replaced with farmland, old wood, and uncertainty.
However, one thing was clear. He would have to rebuild everything again, no matter what it took; whether tilling the land, watering the crops, or nurturing the animals.
Yuri closed his eyes and took a deep breath, organizing his thoughts and recalling things he needed for farming. He went over the tools and frowned.
From the looks of it, even his previous self barely maintained the tools at all. If this continued, he might damage the crops or even contaminate them at some point.
Without a choice, he picked up the worn hoe and tested its grip. The handle was rough, almost splintering, and the metallic edges were dull. As his fingers moved around the grip, he noticed that his hands were smaller than usual, and the muscles he had worked hard before were gone.
"Time to live the life of a farmer, then." He exhaled, yet before stepping out, he glanced at the pile of worn-out sacks again. The low grumbling of his stomach made him desperate, but those sacks felt off to him.
He knelt, tugging one side, and found a small leather pouch underneath.
Inside was a handful of hard biscuits and dried root vegetables wrapped in cloth. It was the kind of meal packed in a hurry.
"Heh, looks like I won't die this early." He murmured, biting off one piece at a time. Although it was dry and hard, it would have to do.
Once he had his feast, he stepped out of his house and squinted slightly at the sun above.
A few neighbors glanced over his direction and were surprised to see him walk out, but quickly looked away and carried on, grabbing their tools and heading toward the vast farmland.
Yuri felt they were in a hurry to leave him alone, as if he were harboring some great curse that could kill people.
Thankfully, signs and fences have been built around the plots. Yuri managed to read them, and it didn't take long for him to find his field.
A slightly plump young teenager went over just as he approached his field.
"Oi, you the new guy living in Old Garner's place?" the teen called out, eyeing him from head to toe.
Yuri paused, finding the language familiar. "Yeah, I guess I am."
"Huh. Didn't expect someone to live past that." The teen had a confused look on his face, "Most folks thought that place was cursed, and that…"
Mentioning it, the teen suddenly cut off and realized it would be too awkward to continue. He rubbed the back of his head, "Haha, excuse my questions. I was just curious about you, the new guy."
Then, he extended his right hand, "Name's Dren. I help out in this village sometimes. You see that field over there?" He pointed to a plot near Yuri's, "That's my family's field. As for yours…"
Dren's smile stiffened, struggling to keep a straight face, "Yours might need some… serious tending. Hard to tell when it was last touched."
Yuri gave a dry chuckle, trying to keep things light, "Thanks, I guess."
Dren grinned, "Just being honest. If you need help or tools, drop by the store. Oh, yeah, it's your first time here. I can guide you there later, but for now…"
"DREN! Get your ass over here!"
A booming voice echoed across the fields, making both of them wince and cover their ears.
Dren gave Yuri a shrug, "Oops, that's my cue. Haven't asked for your name though?"
"I am Yuri. Nice to meet you, Dren."
"Aight, see you later, Yuri! And don't forget about the store later!" Dren jogged off and waved his hand while running towards their family's plot, only to receive a scolding from a middle-aged man, probably his father.
Yuri smiled at the sight of it, knowing that Dren shouldn't have wasted time talking.
"That went well, I think?"
He slowly approached his field and looked at its current state. Dirt clumped around, with dry furrows and weeds that looked like they had declared sovereignty over the fertile land. Yuri stepped on the edges and rolled his shoulders.
"Lots of work today. I should start going."
He raised the hoe and swung, grunting as he exerted force.
Thud!
The metal edge, despite its dull texture, sank into the earth and split a small chunk of earth over. He pulled it back and struck again, following the rhythm of lift, swing, pull, and shift.
Sweat poured down his skin after countless strikes, yet despite the exhaustion, Yuri felt nothing but exhilaration as he continued.
His hands adjusted on their own, sliding down the grip to find a better balance. His footwork shifted with wider spacing on his legs that reduced the strain on his back. He had not consciously done it, but it all felt natural, efficient.
Then his breathing changed, slower and more measured. Every motion flowed through the next swing, slowly tightening his muscles despite being weak this morning.
As time went by, Yuri's movements were more precise than the last, almost like his body had remembered his actions better than his mind did.
He paused with sweat dripping from his brow and stared at his trembling hands.
"No calluses yet, but that shouldn't be."
He looked back at the tilled section. Though his work was rough and barely anything special, the result was strangely uniform.
Yuri had a hunch: the more he worked, the better his physique became. He didn't understand why, but something was alive, silent yet effective, inside of him.
He grinned, recollecting the various stories he had read before, "So it's that kind of story, huh?"
Then he lifted the hoe and struck the ground again, oblivious to the eventual rise of the sun and how his back had straightened bit by bit.