Chapter 4: The Nameless Streetrat And The Black Cat
Pain greeted him first.
A deep, throbbing agony pulsed in his skull — the kind of pain that made him genuinely consider ripping his own head off just to make it stop. Noah had no idea what had happened. One moment he was the void,no body, just him floating endlessly; the next he was drowning in an ocean of pain.
The change was so abrupt it felt evil.
"...Fuck…" Noah groaned as he tried opening his eyes.
Bad idea.
Color bleed into his vision — dizzying shapes swirling like a shattered kaleidoscope stabbing straight into his eyes. He squeezed his eyes shut once again, he took deep, slow breath, hoping that would calm him down. he kept at it until the stabbing behind his eyes dulled.
Only then did he try again.
Slowly.
When he opened his eyes, he found himself in a dark, narrow alleyway — shadows stretched from the brick walls, damp, and slick with what he really hoped was old rainwater. Trash spilled from a toppled bin, the air stank of metal and rot, and neon signs buzzed faintly higher up, their colors bleeding along wet brick walls.
Noah was slumped against the alley wall, like he had fallen asleep there after a long night drinking.
"Where the hell am I…?" he muttered.
Then it hit him.
The Prime World.
The world where everything would fall apart.
The stage where the hero would rise against a dark god...
And lose miserably.
Noah let out a shaky breath that sounded too close to resignation, and here he was — the one variable meant to stop that disaster. The one tasked with saving a world, how? He had 0 ideas.
First things first, though: figure out where the hell he was.
Since he was in a foreign world, collecting information was key. He had no clue how the world worked, and if he wanted to save it, he had to at least have basic information about it.
He tried to stand, but his legs felt like spaghetti, and his stomach growled with hunger. When he finally looked down at himself, he nearly choked.
His clothes were dirty — the kind of dirty that made thrift store rejects look extravagant. But that wasn't the worst part.
His entire body was covered in blood.
An impossible amount.
Noah froze. He lifted the shirt with trembling fingers… only to find a small undernourished torso, skin clinging to bone, smeared in dried blood but completely uninjured.
A chill ran down his spine.
"I… what…?"
Then memory clicked.
[You will be transported into the body of someone who recently died.]
"Ah… makes sense," he muttered weakly.
He was no longer Noah; he was now a stranger wearing a dead man's body. It felt almost unholy, something a dark exorcist would do, but nope, he was personally sent here by a goddess herself, and it made it even feel more wrong.
He shoved the thought away and forced himself upright. Step by shaky step, he staggered forward towards the exit.
Then—
"Meow."
Noah turned around sharply.
A cat sat at the far end of the alley, where he had just left.
But calling it a cat felt... wrong.
Its fur was pure midnight, darker than the shadows that embraced it.
And its eyes…
midnight blue, deep enough to drown in, eerie enough to unsettle his soul.
The cat tilted its head, studying him with unsettling intelligence. His blue eyes reflected him like the moon.
"…What the hell is a cat doing here?" Noah muttered. For some reason, he felt drawn to the cat, like it was connected to him in ways he couldn't explain.
He shook his head and turned away. Either way, he had no time for weirdo cats in a world-threatening apocalypse. He started walking towards the alley's exit, deciding to forget about it, but the soft pad of paws behind him said otherwise.
Noah stopped.
The cat stopped.
He turned around.
The cat sat.
He glared.
It yawned.
Noah's eye twitched.
"Listen, furball. I'm busy right now. Go bother someone else," he said flatly.
"Meow?"
Innocent tone. Mocking eyes.
"No, I don't have food. Do I look like I carry fish?"
"Meow…"
A judgmental meow.
"Don't you dare call me poor. YOU don't even have pockets."
"Meow~" It meowed smugly.
"You little—"
He froze.
Was he seriously arguing with a cat?
"Wait, how the fuck am I understanding you?!" he hissed, gripping his head. Was he going crazy? Did the transmigration fuck with his head? Was the goddess playing a prank on him?
The cat let out another amused sound.
He resisted the urge to kick it into space.
Instead, he turned and walked away.
Of course, the furry menace climbed up his leg, onto his arm with surprising grace, and perched on his shoulder like a tiny queen claiming her throne.
He only sighed. Deciding to let it go, for some reason, he felt like truly connected to the cat; he didn't know if he was going crazy or not, so he would just let it come with him for now.
They left the alley and stepped into a city that stole his breath.
Hover-cars glided past like ghosts, their bases glowing blue. Holographic ads flickered above crowds. Screens floated midair, projecting futuristic tech he couldn't dream of back on Earth. Neon veins ran through the city like living circuitry.
People passed him like a flood, like everything around them was normal, day to day. Some gave him a passive glance, a young boy with a cat on his shoulder, definitely not a sight you see every day.
"To be honest… I expected something more fantasy," Noah muttered.
Turns out novels had lied to him again. He really believed he'd go to a fantasy world after he heard that the world had magic.
Oh well.
A nudge at his neck — the cat gave him a look that screamed, Move, idiot.
He only gave it a flat look before he continued walking. Observing. Thinking. Trying to piece together anything.
****
The city was truly big; he had been walking forever now, and he had seen a lot. He saw shops that sold weapons, but not the kind he expected. No place sold any guns; they sold mostly swords and bows or whatever caught a gladiators fancy. He wanted to enter a weapons store to look around more, but he was chased away, probably because he looked like a walking murder scene, so he couldn't really blame them.
As he was checking out more stores, he saw himself in one of the windows, and to say his ego got boosted is an understatement.
He had long, Jet-black hair; long enough to fall past his shoulders, falling into his eyes in a way that looked deliberate but effortless; it shone like the night, with silver undertones that shimmered under light.
His eyes were sharp and shone silver grey, giving him a look that felt both distant and piercing, as if he could see through people's intentions and lies.
His features are finely sculptured, almost noble, with high cheekbones and a straight nose, lending him an elegance that contrasts with the subtle intensity in his gaze. He looked like a mysterious cultivator who was searching for immortality.
"Heh, the goddess sure knows how to bless someone." He puffed his chest out in pride and arrogance; he was genuinely happy he didn't turn out ugly.
He started posing in front of the glass, admiring his new face. The cat on his shoulder only rolled its eyes, like it expected him to do that. He gave it a look that said, 'Cmon, can you really blame it?' But it just ignored him.
Too bad.
*Growl*
He flinched; it was definitely his stomach. It felt like he hadn't eaten in days, but he turned towards the cat and blamed it with 0 shame.
"Really? What an uncivilized cat, I swear," He said, voice dripping with mock pity. The cat's mouth twitched; it looked like it was one moment from pouncing on him. So to appease its 'hunger', he decided to find a way to get food.
He was poor after all.
But as he was deep in thought, he caught movement from the corner of his eye.
Down another alley, a group of guys hung around, smoking and laughing too loudly. Their overbearing laughs, the clothes, the posture — textbook street trash or wannabe thugs.
Noah immediately looked away.
He felt a sense of danger when they looked at him, and he started making his way out of there as fast as he could.
Too late.
One of them spotted him.
Grinned.
Called out to his friends and pointed at him.
And they started making their way towards him.
Noah wanted to run, but before he even could, a rough hand clamped onto his shoulder.
"Yo. Been a while, rat."
Noah exhaled slowly. He was no genius, but he wasn't dumb either.
He was completely, utterly fucked