Joe's eyes opened wide after what felt like years of sleep. The first thing he saw was the brilliant, clear blue sky. There were no clouds in sight and the sun was shining brightly, spreading its warmth across the world below. Joe squinted and rubbed his eyes gently as they were a little blurry and still adjusting to the sudden flood of light. It took a few seconds, but his vision eventually adapted.

  Joe rose and sat upright. Examining his form, he realized that he wasn't wearing anything besides his black boxers. His upper body and legs were bare, and he was even missing his favorite pair of socks, which made him frown a little.

  A moment later, Joe clutched his head as a sharp pain throbbed inside his skull. It was something that had plagued him for years. An agonizing migraine.

  He sat there for a while, waiting for the discomfort to fade on its own. He knew it wasn't the best method, but it was one that had always worked for him whenever a headache came around.

  His approach proved effective once again, because after a minute, the pain eased noticeably. Two minutes later, the ache had vanished entirely as if it had never been there to begin with.

  Joe couldn’t help but smile. This was proof that painkillers were nothing but scams and a waste of money. All one needed was a little endurance and time to take care of the rest.

  Free from the discomfort, Joe tried to recall how he had ended up where he was. In less than a second, a gruesome memory surfaced in his mind. On his way to a comic book store, he had been hit by a truck and killed on impact. It had been dark when the accident occurred, and he had been rushing to buy his favorite light novel before it sold out. He hadn’t checked both ways before crossing the street, and that single mistake had spelled the end of his life.

  It was a pathetic way to die, but Joe wasn’t really surprised. With how miserable his life had been, such a lame death almost felt fitting.

  Both his parents had died when he was fourteen. He had been taken in by his uncle, who treated him like garbage. The drunk didn’t care about anyone but himself and wasn’t above putting his hands on Joe whenever he wanted to vent his anger. How Joe had survived for so many years was a miracle.

  When he turned eighteen, he finally had enough money left behind by his parents to move out and get his own apartment. He had been living alone for a year before his untimely demise. As someone who had never really had friends, aside from a few classmates he occasionally spoke to for group projects, Joe had spent most of his time reading novels to escape his miserable reality.

  It sucked that he had never managed to graduate from high school, falling short in his final year, but at least now he could put all that nonsense behind him and focus on the future.

  He had no clue how he was still breathing, and Joe knew it should have shocked him more. With how gruesome his death had been, he shouldn’t even have a body. Yet, he could tell this was the same one he had before, marked by the small birthmark on his chest.

  He felt calmer than he should have, considering he had just woken up after he had died. But Joe figured that since his previous life had held no value to him, he simply didn’t care whether he got run over or not. He was just glad to still be breathing.

  Standing up, Joe noticed a large crowd of people moving up and down the streets. Some wore classic suits made from common fabrics, others were clad in full metal armor. A few had on cloaks, and there were even rough-looking men who had left their upper bodies bare like Joe and only wore leather pants and sturdy black boots. There were also normal-looking people dressed in t-shirts, dresses, and shorts. The usual stuff.

  As Joe examined his surroundings, he saw many houses made of wood and stone lining the streets. They faced one another, leaving spaces in between for people to walk.

  The sight was jarring. Joe was used to seeing tall skyscrapers stretching into the clouds. These modest structures were unlike anything he had ever seen with his own eyes.

  He didn’t spot a single car, which was strange, because back home you couldn’t walk a block without running into one. They were everywhere and were one of the main causes of death, something Joe knew from experience. It was actually nice not seeing any around. It reduced the chances of being flattened by another truck.

  As Joe continued to take in the view, several people walked past him, giving him strange looks. Some whispered among themselves but were not very discreet about it.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  "Ew, why is that man standing around naked in the middle of the town square? What a creep!" a girl said, her tone filled with disgust.

  "Stay away from that weirdo, baby," said the guy beside her, pulling her away.

  A few others echoed similar remarks, their voices overlapping.

  "What a loser. Isn't he too old to look like that?"

  "That man must be one of those homeless beggars always asking for money. Disgusting."

  "Why is he showing off his body in public like that? He must be a pervert."

  As Joe heard the barely hidden whispers, he couldn’t help but grow self-conscious. What they said shouldn’t have surprised him. To them, he must have looked like a complete lunatic.

  A few people who seemed to pity him dropped some gold coins at his feet. Joe's eyes widened as he crouched and picked them up. He examined the coins closely, running his fingers over their surface. Even though he wasn’t an expert, he could tell they were real gold. In his previous life, people used digital payments, paper bills, and cards. Coins still existed, but none made of gold.

  With the medieval buildings, old-fashioned clothes, and now gold coins as currency, it didn’t take Joe long to realize he had been transported to another world.

  Someone being reborn into another world after death was something Joe had only ever read about in novels and manga. It had been his favorite genre, largely because it was so easy to immerse himself in those stories. He could always imagine himself in the main character’s shoes. They were usually packed with magic and nonstop action, the kind of books that were impossible to put down. And that was not even mentioning the fantastical races.

  Female elves and beast girls were peak fantasy as far as Joe was concerned.

  Wait.

  Did those things exist in this world as well?

  Could he actually learn to shoot fireballs and fight dragons?

  Joe’s face lit up with joy as his heart pounded in his chest. The more he thought about it, the more excited he became over what his new life might hold.

  He had not seen any dragons yet, but he had spotted several massive green lizards pulling carriages through the streets. Their scales shimmered under the light, and their sheer size alone strengthened his belief that this truly was another world. The largest lizard Joe knew back on Earth had been a crocodile, and even that was nowhere near big enough to haul a gigantic carriage.

  If creatures like that existed here, then the chances of dragons being real rose dramatically.

  Normally, something like this would have caused any Earthling to panic. Fear and anxiety should have overwhelmed him. Instead, Joe felt exhilarated. A new world meant a fresh start. It meant leaving behind every regret and hardship from his previous life. This was a second chance to turn over a new leaf and become the best version of himself.

  And Joe had no intention of wasting it.

  Seeing that people were willing to give him coins out of pity, Joe decided to take advantage of their generosity. He noticed an empty wine bottle nearby, picked it up, and smashed the top half against the ground. The bottle broke cleanly in two. He used the bottom portion as a container and placed it in front of him before sitting down with his legs crossed. He clasped his hands together and looked up at every passerby with wide, pitiful eyes.

  Joe knew what he was doing was shameless. It was embarrassing, even.

  He did not care.

  At the moment, the four gold coins he possessed were all he had to his name. If he wanted to survive in this world, he needed more capital.

  His plan quickly bore fruit. A few people tossed coins into his makeshift donation jar. This time, they were silver and bronze pieces. Joe assumed they were worth less than gold, but he welcomed them all the same.

  Money was money.

  About an hour into his new business venture, Joe noticed that the steady trickle of coins had begun to slow.

  It was time to unleash his secret weapon.

  Joe forced tears into his eyes and twisted his face into the ugliest, most pitiful expression he could manage. The effect was immediate. A few more coins clinked into the bottle. When that dried up after another thirty minutes, Joe revealed his ultimate skill. He let snot run freely down his nose and cried out as he begged passing strangers for spare change.

  Many people recoiled in disgust, clearly creeped out by his behavior. Still, a handful of kind souls dropped coins into his jar before hurrying away.

  By the time two hours had passed, Joe’s stomach was grumbling and his face ached from fake crying. He was just about to call it quits when something struck him square on the forehead.

  He grunted in real pain as his head snapped back from the impact. After a moment, Joe looked down and saw a platinum coin lying on the ground. He picked it up and glanced toward the person who had thrown it.

  “Take that, you good for nothing beggar,” sneered a tall boy around Joe’s age. He had flowing white hair, wore a black robe, and was flanked by two other boys.

  Joe smiled and bowed his head. “Thank you very much!”

  The boy scoffed and walked away. His companions laughed, one of them muttering, “What a loser.”

  Joe lifted the platinum coin again, and only then did he notice several drops of crimson staining its surface. His smile faded.

  He was bleeding.

  Joe touched his throbbing forehead. When he pulled his hand back, his right index finger was smeared with blood.

  He knew platinum coins were supposed to be hard, but were they really heavy enough to draw blood from a casual throw?

  Shrugging, Joe smiled and added the coin to his collection. The white haired boy might have been a jerk, but Joe still appreciated the contribution.

  In the end, Joe counted his earnings. One platinum, eight gold, six silver, and nine bronze coins. It had cost him his dignity, but it was not a bad haul for two hours of work. He even considered doing it again if the money proved insufficient.

  Joe got to his feet and headed deeper into town. It was time to find his first meal in this new world.