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That's how my life ends, Andy thought, a cold smirk flickering in his mind despite the darkness closing in. No regrets, no tears—just a quiet satisfaction that he'd fucked his way through life exactly as he wanted, leaving a trail of moaning, dripping women and jealous men behind. He had taken what he craved, used them, discarded them, and never once looked back. If this was the price, fine. Worth every thrust.
But something bothered him. If he was dead, why was he still conscious? Maybe he wasn't dead after all; then I was dreaming. That would mean I'd never be a father.
Andy opened his eyes and scanned his surroundings. He realized he wasn't in the comfort of his own home, nor in the safety of a normal bed. Instead, he found himself sprawled on the cold forest floor in broad daylight. "Where the hell am I?" he wondered aloud.
Determined to find answers and a way back, Andy stood up and started walking through the silent forest. He lost track of time as he wandered for hours, searching for any sign of civilization. Finally, he reached the bank of a crystal-clear river that flowed quietly through the trees.
Kneeling down, he looked at his reflection in the water. His face was still as handsome as ever, despite his dirt-stained clothes. His dark brown short hair framed his features, and his brown eyes stared back at him, sharp and unchanged.
Tired of walking endlessly with nothing to show for it, Andy dropped to one knee on the riverbank. The gentle rush of water calmed his nerves for a moment—until a sharp, equine sound cut through the air.
"Neighhh!"
Andy's body snapped to high alert. A horse? Where?
"Neighhh!"
"Neighhh!"
"Neighhh!"
The whinnies came again, louder, closer—directly from behind him.
Andy spun around, startled to see three men on horseback staring down at him.
Their clothes weren't normal; they looked like something out of a magic and medieval fantasy Isekai novel. In perfect unison, they drew their swords with a metallic rasp, the blades catching the sunlight as they slowly circled Andy like wolves closing in on prey.
One of the riders, a burly, overweight man with a greasy grin, eyed Andy up and down like fresh prey. He turned to the man beside him and chuckled darkly.
"Hehe, look'ee here—prime goods we've chanced upon, wouldn't ye say, Captain Stank?"
Andy fixed his gaze on the man they called Stank. His face was concealed behind a dark metal helmet, his entire body clad in heavy black armor, a red cape flowing down his back. He radiated raw authority and menace, an unspoken threat hanging in the air.
The tension thickened as the three riders slowly closed in on Andy, their swords drawn and blades catching the daylight with cold, menacing gleams.
The three men on horseback kept talking in an old-fashioned English, thick with archaic words and phrasing, but Andy could still understand every word they said.
Confused and desperate for answers, Andy cleared his throat and spoke up politely, trying to keep his voice steady.
"Excuse me, gentlemen… do you know where Murphy's apartments in New York are?"
The men stared at Andy in total confusion, clearly not grasping a word of what he meant. The overweight one, still smirking from earlier, scratched his head and let out a dumb chuckle.
"New York? What the hell is that—some new cut of pork?" he asked, completely oblivious to the meaning behind Andy's question.
Andy let out a sudden, nervous laugh, his lip curling in a sneer. "Pfft! A cut of pork? Are you for real? It's a city, you absolute clown. You're even dumber than you look. Hahaha!"
But Andy's laughter died in his throat, his face twisting into shock as the overweight man—now furious at the insult—gripped his sword with white-knuckled rage and raised it high. In a flash of impulsive fury, the blade whistled down, slicing clean through Andy's white shirt. The fabric tore open with a sharp RIP!, exposing his chest, but the sword stopped just short of flesh—no blood, no wound, only the ruined shirt hanging in tatters.
"You fat piece of shit! Do you have any idea how much this costs? You just trashed a thirty-five-hundred-dollar Italian suit, you absolute greaseball!" he exploded, glaring at the ruined shirt hanging in shreds from his chest, completely forgetting—or ignoring—that the man still held a drawn sword inches away.
At first, the overweight man had been determined to force Andy into submission, to make him understand obedience. But after being insulted twice—first with mockery, then with that explosive "greaseball!"—his patience snapped. His face twisted into pure rage. Andy no longer deserved leniency; he deserved to die.
With a grunt, the man swung his leg over the saddle and dismounted heavily, boots thudding against the ground. He advanced on Andy step by step, raising his sword high overhead, the blade catching the sunlight in a deadly gleam. His eyes burned with murderous intent—he was going to end this insolent stranger once and for all.
Just as the overweight man's sword began its deadly descent toward Andy, a firm hand shot out between them, halting the blade mid-swing. It wasn't brute strength that stopped him—it was the sheer authority radiating from the one who intervened.
"Leave him alone, Gunther," the voice commanded, low and unyielding.
It was Captain Stank, the overweight man named Gunther had been addressing earlier. His imposing figure loomed over them, exuding the kind of cold, absolute authority that silenced even his own men without a single word.
"Why, Captain?!" Gunther protested, his voice thick with indignation. "This bastard insulted me twice! He deserved to die—I care nothing if he's worth 30 gold coins!"
"Thirty gold coins?" Captain Stank drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he looked down at Gunther. "You're not a very good judge of stock, are you, Gunther?"
"Huh?" Gunther blurted, blinking in total confusion.
Stank quietly pointed at Andy's torn clothes and said in a low, measured voice, "Take a good look at his clothes. That's not from around here. He looks like he fell out of the sky—an alien in our world."
"....Al-alien?!!!" Gunther and the other man stammered in perfect unison, their eyes wide with astonishment as they both turned to stare at Andy like he was some impossible creature dropped from the sky.
90
"What exactly is an alien?" asked the other hunter, who was young enough not to know anything about this world yet.
"Aliens are deceased bodies that have been transported to our world in search of a second chance, as their previous lives ended in untimely tragedy. Our Goddess of the Seed, Veldra, grants them this opportunity for redemption and to find a new purpose in life. This extraordinary phenomenon has fascinated our world for years, as you never know when they may appear. It has been 15 years since news of the last extraterrestrial being," explained Stank.
"Yes, I've heard about that too," Eric said, showing a wicked smile and trying to hide his excitement. "So, how much is he worth, boss?" asked Eric, absorbing the information.
"1300 gold coins," replied Stank, estimating the value of the unusual "Alien".
The two men behind Stank could not hide their amazement at the idea of having so much money. Eric smiled while pulling a piece of rope out of the horse's saddlebag.
"Then we will have to take good care of him," said Eric determinedly, approaching Andy.
Eric swiftly pinned Andy to the ground, his great weight pressing him down to immobilize him, before deftly tying his arms and legs with the rope, ensuring he couldn't escape.
"Listen, what the hell are you doing? You don't know who I am, you fucking bastards! I am Andy Collins, one of the richest men in the United States," Andy shouted, desperate to get his freedom back.
Tired of his insults, the overweight man named Eric punched him in the face, knocking him unconscious and putting an end to his protests.
"Punch!"
After binding him and dragging him onto one of their horses, they mounted him and tied him tightly to ensure that he could not escape during the journey.
Meanwhile, Stank, in a moment of nostalgia, thought to himself, Hmm, I remember those delicious Hot Dogs in New York. Returning to reality, he ordered, "Let's go to the Murk Kingdom, to the Brothel of Lust."
"Yes, sir!" exclaimed the men, guiding Andy on his new and strange adventure as the forest swallowed them in its darkness, hiding their future destiny in the shadows of uncertainty.