"Hey, Newbie! Wake up!"
A rough shake yanked Shane out of his unconscious state.
He felt himself lying on the ground, the hard surface digging into his back, making every bone in his body ache as if he'd been taken apart and put back together wrong.
"Cut it out, Sho. He looks rough, don't shake him so hard!"
Another voice spoke up, this one much gentler.
Shane struggled to open his eyes. His vision was blurry for a moment before slowly coming into focus. He saw dark, cold iron bars, and through the gaps, a faint beam of torchlight filtered in, casting a gloomy, oppressive mood over the entire space.
His throat felt tight and dry, and he could barely make a sound. After a few dry coughs, he managed to croak out, "Where... where am I?"
A boy with a messy mop of chestnut hair squeezed into his view, his face lighting up with surprise. "Oh! He's awake!"
Another boy, slightly older and wearing prisoner garb, gently pulled Chestnut-Head back.
He had short blue hair and a distinct red tattoo under his right eye. He crouched down and whispered to Shane, "This is the Tower of Heaven. You were captured by a Dark Guild. We're all..."
He paused for a moment before slowly finishing his sentence: "...slaves."
"Slaves?" Shane repeated instinctively, thinking he'd misheard.
What century is this? Slaves? A Dark Guild? Sounds like something out of an anime or a video game...
He was about to make a sarcastic comment, but when he looked up, he froze.
Surrounding him were people in prisoner rags, standing or sitting, all staring at him. Most of them were just kids—skinny, sallow, with empty eyes that screamed malnutrition.
Shane's heart skipped a beat. He looked down at himself.
"Why am I wearing the same outfit?"
Even more bizarre was that his limbs, his body... everything had shrunk. His wrists were thin, his fingers tender. He was looking at the body of a child who hadn't even hit puberty yet.
"Did I seriously get isekai'd?" Shane murmured in disbelief. Unless this was a dream, that was the only explanation that made any sense.
"Hey! What's all the noise over there?!"
Just as Shane's brain was starting to short-circuit, a furious roar came from outside the iron bars, followed by the harsh clang of an iron rod smashing against the metal grating.
The group that had gathered to check on the new cellmate instantly scattered without a sound. They expertly shrank back into the shadows along the walls, bowing their heads as if trying to merge with the stone itself.
Not wanting to cause trouble, Shane dragged his heavy body over to the wall and leaned against it.
The cold stone pressed against his back, sending a shiver down his spine.
Ever since waking up, he'd felt unnaturally weak. It was like he hadn't eaten in days; even moving his head slightly made him dizzy.
"Looks like the guard is in a good mood today."
The boy with the tattoo carefully scooted closer and whispered in Shane's ear. "Usually, if he's in a bad mood, he'll drag someone out just to vent."
"But don't worry," he paused, then added softly, "We're powerless slaves. Nobody cares about us. He'll do a couple of rounds and leave. Just don't draw attention to yourself for a bit, and you'll be fine."
After saying that, he fell silent. In the dim torchlight, Shane could feel the boy's gaze lingering on his face.
"I'm Jellal Fernandes," the boy said suddenly. "And you?"
Shane was slightly taken aback and turned his head in surprise.
Jellal's tone was calm, his face hidden in shadow so his expression was unreadable.
But Shane had a strange feeling that Jellal was trying to look out for the new guy in his own way.
Is he... worried about me?
After all... he had just emphasized the need to be quiet, yet he risked coming over to talk. It didn't make sense logically.
Shane scratched his head, a bit unused to such thoughtfulness. I guess now that my body is small, I'm getting treated like a kid, too.
Still, he didn't dislike the gesture.
"Shane. Just Shane," he replied, first in perfect Mandarin, then immediately repeating it in the strangely fluent language of this other world.
"No last name? Or just... a weird name..." Jellal wondered to himself. Hearing the first part, he thought it was some kind of slang and was confused. He only relaxed when Shane repeated it in the common tongue.
If they couldn't communicate, that would be trouble. In a place like this, people who couldn't understand orders were usually the first to die.
But soon, Jellal felt his worry might be unnecessary.
Usually, when kids realized their situation, they would break down. But this newcomer was surprisingly calm, showing no signs of panic.
"Pretty impressive mental fortitude," Jellal thought, surprised by Shane's demeanor, though he immediately felt a bitter smile rise in his heart.
So what if he's calm?
The people running the Tower of Heaven wielded Magic. The power gap was enormous. Even with a clear head, finding a chance to escape was next to impossible.
Thinking of this, Jellal suddenly lost interest, nodded once, and ended the conversation.
Shane was fine with that. Now really wasn't the time for small talk.
He had things to confirm.
The cell fell silent again. No voices, just the occasional sob or the grinding of chains from other cells, gnawing at everyone's nerves.
seizing the moment, Shane focused his gaze on the empty air in front of him. There, floating silently, was a book with no decorations, emitting a faint glow.
"Okay, confirmed. Nobody else can see this thing."
Even without internet access to check the tropes, Shane immediately realized this was his "Golden Finger"—the cheat item that came with his isekai package.
This was part of the reason he was so calm. Aside from his naturally laid-back personality, having this gave him a sense of security.
He knew exactly how bad his situation was.
Being a slave...
This wasn't like being a servant in a wealthy ancient household who got a monthly allowance. This was being the lowest of the low, a cheap, disposable existence.
Either you were sold as a commodity, or you were thrown into hard labor with zero human rights.
If you were sold, life might be slightly better—after all, as property, an owner might care about wear and tear.
But if you were a laborer... that was the worst fate. Life was a consumable resource. The conditions were so bad it was basically a deferred death sentence.
High-intensity, repetitive physical labor, extremely long hours, rations that barely kept you alive, and zero medical care for the inevitable diseases.
Ancient Rome's latifundia or the Spanish silver mines in Potosí... those were the definitions of hell on earth.
Shane wasn't sure which one he'd end up in, but it didn't matter. It was the difference between a poop-flavored chocolate bar and a chocolate-flavored poop bar.
So, he had to escape!
Responding to his thoughts, the book flipped open to the first page.
Name: Shane
Alignment: Neutral Good · Human
Strength: E- (Lifting a large rock would be a struggle)
Endurance: E- (Body as fragile as glass; survival capability is extremely worrying)
Agility: E- (Mobility is practically zero; cannot rely on physical speed to dodge)
Magic Power: E- (No connection to "Mystery"; a regular human with no magic)
Luck: EX (Holder of the Book of Heroic Spirits; cannot be measured by normal standards; maximum resistance to "Destined Fate")
Active Skills: None
The first page clearly listed his stats. Aside from the EX-Rank Luck, everything else was a tragic E-.
Shane lifted his hand and made a weak fist, feeling the feeble strength in his body. He confirmed the book's data was accurate.
He wasn't surprised. This body was incredibly weak. His past self—a flimsy college student—could probably knock out two of his current selves with one punch.
But he didn't dwell on the stats. Shane was more interested in the possibilities.
"With this book, maybe I can find a way out!"
Shane focused, and through a vague connection with the book, he roughly understood its power.
It could record the holder's status in real-time and, based on the current situation, issue trials that aligned with the "Path of the Heroic Spirit."
Complete the trial, get a reward.
"Let's see..." With a hint of anticipation, Shane focused his mind, and the pages turned silently.
[Path of the Heroic Spirit · Initiation]
[Even the greatest heroes, before establishing their legendary feats, needed a corner to rest, a mouthful of food to fill their bellies, and a companion to watch their back.]
[Objective: Secure Food, Shelter, and Friendship to unlock the first Summon!]
"Just those three things?"
Maybe it was a newbie bonus, but the first trial was unexpectedly simple.
Even more surprising was that "Shelter" and "Friendship" were already glowing, indicating completion.
"Shelter" was easy to understand—this place might be a prison, but it had walls to block the wind and a roof to stop the rain. It barely counted as a place to stay.
But "Friendship" being complete confused him a little.
The text clearly marked "Current Count: 1". No need to guess, it was definitely Jellal.
The problem was, "Friendship" usually required mutual recognition. It wasn't enough for Jellal to just be friendly; Shane had to consider him a friend too.
Shane was speechless. "So... am I actually just really easy?"
He'd only exchanged a few sentences, and his subconscious already considered the guy a friend? The corner of his mouth twitched. He didn't know how to feel about that.
If this were a darker kind of story, I'd be getting taken advantage of in minutes...
Yikes... Just imagining it sent a chill down his spine. He quickly reminded himself: Stranger danger. Stay alert in this new world.
He then turned his attention to the final condition—Food.
He looked around. Dark iron bars, cold damp floor. Not a scrap of protein in sight.
Where was he supposed to get food? Shane swallowed hard, stumped.
And as if triggered by the thought, his body—starved of calories—suddenly realized the problem. The hunger he had been forcing himself to ignore came roaring back.
His stomach felt like it was burning, cramping up and growling loudly enough to be heard clearly in the quiet cell.
A wave of dizziness hit him. Shane's vision went black for a second, his limbs turning to jelly.
"Here. Eat."
Just as he was about to pass out from hunger, a voice spoke up.
Half a loaf of black bread was thrust toward him from the side.
Shane didn't even see who it was. His hand reached out instinctively. He grabbed the bread, mumbled a thank you, and immediately started gnawing on it.
The bread was stone cold and hard as a rock. It barely had any taste.
He had to tear it into small chunks and let his saliva soften it just to swallow it down.
Even starving, Shane couldn't lie and say it was delicious. But as every rough bite slid into his stomach, it brought a heavy, grounding sense of reality.
It felt like... there was a mountain right in front of him...
Huh? A mountain?
Where did a mountain come from?
Shane shuddered. In his daze, a towering peak was actually expanding in his vision, almost crushing him with its presence.
[Trial Complete. Summoning Heroic Spirit...]
At the same time, the pages in his mind lit up. Rows of fiery text burned into his consciousness.
The surroundings twisted. The dim cell dissolved silently, replaced by a vast, boundless wasteland.
The mountain, which had been a phantom image, was now a solid, majestic reality standing before him. Its ridges were rugged, its peak capped with snow, looking as if it had stood there since the beginning of time.
Where the heck am I now?
Before Shane could process it, the fiery text flowed again.
[Response Complete]
[Heroic Spirit True Name: ???]
[Class: Archer]
The information flashed and vanished. Immediately after, the wasteland before him shattered like a reflection in water. The mountains, the plains, the sky... everything faded rapidly.
The dim light returned to his eyes. The familiar smell of mold filled his nose again. It was as if everything just now had been a momentary hallucination.
Shane instinctively touched the center of his forehead. Nothing felt different, but he clearly sensed something new deep in his mind.
He focused and looked inward. There, floating quietly in the center of his consciousness, was a dark gold card he had never seen before.
On the face of the card, a figure was drawing a bow toward the sky, their stance filled with resolve.