So after all... I lost...
In the end... I'm just an ordinary person without any power...
His bodily functions gradually ceased. Hope took one last look at the heavenly land being slaughtered by Blue Dream Corporation, his eyes filled with regret, and his consciousness fell completely into a cold, dark void.
A drowning-like suffocation enveloped him... suddenly!
It felt as if a hand pulled him out of that sensation.
Hope snapped his eyes open, sat up straight, and was shocked to find himself lying on a shabby wooden bed.
"I... didn't die?"
Before he could grasp what had happened, a sudden stabbing pain in his head made Hope let out a muffled groan and clutch his head in agony.
Gory, brutal scenes of slaughter interwove with strange, hazy memory fragments, flashing through his mind like a revolving lantern, nearly turning his brain into mush.
After about ten minutes, the stabbing pain finally subsided, but the intense agony left his mind a blank.
His eyes filled with bewilderment as Hope instinctively surveyed his surroundings.
It was a roughly ten-square-meter room, sparsely furnished with only a bed and an old wooden desk and chair, the chair bearing a set of clothes.
Standing up, Hope's gaze slowly swept over the desk, chair, and window, finally landing on a mirror set into the wall.
The mirror reflected the image of an unfamiliar teenager.
He had a handsome face, short black spiky hair that looked neat, stood over 1.8 meters tall, with an upright, slightly muscular build—not overly bulky—appearing to be around eighteen years old.
Hope stared at his unfamiliar reflection, and the vague memory fragments in his mind began to clarify.
Bathed in these fragmented, strange memories, Hope's expression turned odd; he finally understood what had happened, and a complex, bitter smile tugged at his lips.
He had actually transmigrated again.
And this time into the body of another 'Hope' with the same name.
He exhaled slowly; although Hope couldn't fathom why a transmigrator could be so lucky to get a second near-death transmigration,
as long as he's still alive... that's enough.
In his previous world, Hope was from the Hong Kong manga 'Sea Tiger 2'.
In this world, where good deeds go unrewarded but everyone gets a bad end, dominated by magnetic-field lunatics, he transmigrated into an ordinary person. Not only did he lack the aptitude to awaken magnetic-field powers, he was forced into the power struggles of those lunatics, and inadvertently offended a legendary donkey that runs through the Sea Tiger trilogy.
It was a tormenting existence—he could only strive to survive, never able to die.
He was downright unlucky.
In short, Hope's life in the previous world was extremely hard; if he hadn't seized the chance to latch onto a powerful ally, he would have been completely crushed.
Now, having transmigrated again, it's no exaggeration to say he escaped death.
At present, Hope feels nothing but relief and joy.
Grateful, Hope closes his eyes and gradually absorbs the memory fragments left in this body, trying to glean useful information.
However, after fully digesting the fragments, Hope's complexion turns sour.
It seems the original owner was undertaking some sort of covert mission.
But any memory of the specifics vanished along with the original.
Worse still, the residual memory fragments stop here; Hope couldn't extract any information about this world.
"This is trouble."
Hope mutters to himself, head bowed.
Usually an undercover has a faction or organization behind them, but a transmigrator with no memories is easily exposed as abnormal.
When the time comes, neither the faction the original infiltrated nor the organization behind it will likely spare his current self.
Just as Hope was worrying about this, a virtual panel suddenly appeared in his mind without warning.
[Ding~]
[Analysis Power Reboot Successful]
[Current decipherable supernatural power: Magnetic Field Power (3% decoded, estimated 97 years remaining)]
"That crappy system came along too..."
Hope stared at the panel, unsure whether to laugh or cry.
As a transmigrator, Hope naturally has his own cheat skill, but this system called [Analysis Power] left him with mixed feelings.
[Analysis Power] has only one function.
It deciphers any supernatural power his body has come into contact with; once the decoding reaches 100%, he gains that ability.
That cheat sounds pretty good.
But it can only decode one supernatural power at a time.
And the bigger issue is time.
The stronger the ability, the longer it takes to decode.
Hope spent three years in the magnetic-field world, and the decoding progress of [Analysis Power] for its sole supernatural ability—Magnetic Field Power—steadily increased by 1% per year.
At that rate, he'd wait until death; acquiring Magnetic Field Power would remain a distant dream.
Thus, in the previous world, that cheat was as useless as a blank sheet. But now that he's transmigrated a second time, things might be different.
His thoughts were interrupted, giving Hope a chance to stop pondering the original owner's identity. Since sticking his head in or pulling it out would both end in a blade, he decided that instead of lingering in worry, he'd just go out and see if he could find something.
With that in mind, Hope left the room.
Outside the door was a corridor, with stairs on the left leading down.
Hope peered closer; the stairs seemed to descend to a basement storage room, its door tightly locked with a sign that read 'KANA – No Entry'.
At the far end of the corridor, a vague din could be heard, suggesting a crowd of people.
Without overthinking, Hope walked out to the right side of the corridor.
What greeted his eyes was a hall filled with tables and chairs, capable of holding perhaps seventy or eighty people, where men and women of all sorts were either chatting or drinking.
What caught attention was a table less than three meters from Hope, where a pink‑haired teen was wrestling with a shirtless black‑haired teen; a circle of onlookers surrounded them, none trying to intervene, all just heckling.
The tavern‑like place seemed familiar to Hope from some anime, but his mind, still scrambled from the transmigration, couldn't place it.
"Young man, you're awake."
As Hope strained to recall, a resonant voice sounded from behind.
Hope turned his head, but saw nothing.
"Ahem, over here."
An awkward cough came from below, and Hope finally noticed a tiny, frail old man about a meter tall standing nearby.
The old man and the youngster locked eyes, but the old man's Mediterranean‑style hair made Hope's gaze waver.
Out of courtesy, Hope crouched and asked, "Sir, may I ask what this place is?"
The old man didn't answer immediately; instead, he took a big gulp of his ice‑cold beer, a look of satisfaction on his face, and then said:
"This place, you see, is Fairy Tail."
"A mage guild..."
Before he could finish, the pink‑haired teen from the fight suddenly crashed down, coincidentally landing on the old man; the two rolled and knocked over a nearby counter.
After a clatter of crashing sounds,
Hope saw the little old man bathed in golden light transform into a towering, five‑meter‑tall muscular giant, who lifted the pink‑haired teen as easily as if he were picking up a chick.
The black‑haired teen who had thrown the pink‑haired one at him turned pale at the sight and, without hesitation, turned and fled.
But after only a few steps, the old man's massive hand dragged him back.
"Natsu? Gray!"
"How many times have I told you—when outsiders are present, stop fighting! Otherwise, people will think our guild is full of thugs!"
Watching the old man swing his arms left and right, Hope's mouth twitched.
Whether the two teens are violent or not is another matter, but the old man's moves are truly brutal—he spun the two teens around like tops.