Chapter 3: Don't Mess with Smiling Old Men

Night fell, and I felt a slight chill in the air. Poor me—I’d been wearing a T-shirt and capris before transmigrating. Luckily, it was during work hours; otherwise, I’d probably be here in flip-flops and boxers.

“Master, do you have any extra clothes?” I asked casually.

“Yes! I happen to have a set of robes from my youth. Wait while I fetch them,” Master Joseph replied. He stopped, his ring glowing softly, then handed me the garments one by one.

Holding the clothes from the Old Mage, I froze. I’d only asked on a whim—never expecting he’d actually have some. The fabric felt strange, unlike cotton or linen from my old world. A hat, shoes, gauntlets, cloak, and belt? Way too complete!

*Master, with that spare time, you could’ve brought a map or mechanic’s gadgets instead.*

Doubtful, I started putting on the robe and armor pieces. It fit perfectly... yet felt eerie. The Old Mage looked frail, barely over 1.6 meters tall. Sure, people shrink with age—but even in his prime, he couldn’t have matched my frame.

I’d always been big-boned, standing 1.85 meters. Years in IT, sitting all day, had added extra fat. Glancing at my clothes, then at Master Joseph, I wondered: *Will I look like this when I’m old?*

“Ahaha! Fits perfectly, lad—just like I did in my youth!” That was the last thing I wanted to hear.

Watching his smiling face, my unease deepened. Gradually, I’d recovered from the shock of transmigration. Accepting this reality, I focused on survival—and the puzzle before me: this Old Mage.

Appearing out of nowhere. Trusting me blindly. Preparing clothes that fit like a glove. Could it all be coincidence?

“Lad, let’s keep moving!” he urged.

“Oh—okay. How?” Maybe I was overthinking. He seemed harmless. Perhaps this world’s people were just... simple.

*Rustle, rustle.* Suddenly, the bushes behind us stirred. Nighttime. Dense forest. Strange noises. Nothing about this screamed “safe.”

Slowly, I turned. Crimson eyes glowed under the moonlight, reflecting menace. A gust of wind carried a foul stench—definitely not livestock.

*What did I do to the Goddess of Misfortune? Steal her panties? Snap nude pics? Is chasing me across worlds really necessary?* We were almost back to civilization—now it felt like a wildlife documentary. I didn’t sign up for *Man vs. Wild*.

*Growl... roar!* Low growls echoed. Shapes emerged from the bushes—one, two... seven or eight. They advanced in a fan formation, surrounding us.

Moonlight revealed earthy-yellow fur, like prairie wolves but tiger-sized. The leader, largest of all, had black fur on its front legs.

Fatigue and fear crashed over me. My legs gave way, and I plopped onto the ground, scooting backward. *Crap—Master Joseph’s behind me!* I gritted my teeth, forcing myself upright. *I’m no coward. Not with a defenseless elder at my back.*

I spun around, shouting: “Master, run! I’ll hold them—”

I froze. His gray hemp robe billowed without wind. The crystal on his staff blazed. His solemn face radiated authority, pressing down on my mind.

*So this is a mage?* I’d imagined it from his hints and my past life’s stories—but reality was far more awe-inspiring.

*Whine...* The wolf-beasts hesitated, retreating slowly.

“Hmph! Cunning beasts—thinking of fleeing now? Too late! Wind Blade!”

A ripple formed before him. *Whoosh! Whoosh!* Invisible force shot forward—I felt it but saw nothing. *Magic?*

*Howl!* The lead beast dropped low. A dirt wall erupted before it. *Thud! Thud!* The Wind Blades struck, shattering the wall in a dust cloud.

The pack scattered instantly. The alpha vanished.

“Hmph! Wind Blade!” Master Joseph wasn’t done. He swung his staff. More blades flew, tearing through branches and leaves. In the gloom, three demon wolves fell.

I stood frozen. The fight ended in seconds. Where was that kind, harmless old man? I’d braced to sacrifice myself for his escape... *Give me back my heroic moment!* I’d resolved to die again—but he’d crushed them like bugs. I was just the rescued kid.

The Old Mage smoothed his robe, smiling. “Young man, are you alright?”

“Huh? Yeah...” I stammered, still dazed.

“Good. Let’s go—I sense we’re near.”

“Wait. I need to ask you something.” I met Archmage Joseph’s gaze. “Something vital.”

That battle confirmed my doubts. This Archmage from Crescent Town wasn’t easily fooled. He’d noticed my strangeness but played along, luring me to his town. My life was precious—I had to act.

Only two options: he was a naive helper, or he had an agenda. The dirt wall buried the first idea. He knew I’d appear here. He had plans. Time to talk.

But his power left me no leverage. Still, I had limits. If he thought I’d obey blindly, he was wrong.

“So you noticed, Mashang.”

“Damn! How do you know my name?” I hadn’t told him. Why was it unchanged by this world’s language?

“The Goddess guided it all—including your death in your world.”

*!!! Am I the fastest-exposed transmigrator ever?*

“Trust me, lad. I mean no harm. I’m your guide—to help you adapt and fulfill your mission. Truth is... our world needs you.”

“So my transmigration was your Goddess’s doing?” Rage flared. Being manipulated felt awful. *Goddess or not, I’m not your pawn!*

“No. Your death was irreversible—I’m sorry. The Goddess merely used her power to bring you here anew.”

“I hope so.” I couldn’t touch her anyway—but I’d never show weakness. “What ‘mission’?”

“Sigh... Every world has its burdens. Most beings never feel them. It’s a long tale—sure you want it here?” He glanced at the shadowy trees.

“Fine. First, let’s leave the Forest of Fear.” Dwelling on it wouldn’t help. I just wanted out. He’d faked cluelessness, but harmed me not. *Why didn’t I see it sooner? A mage this strong—lost in the woods? I must’ve been naive.*

“That’s right, lad! Worry tomorrow, tomorrow! To town!” He strode off, lighter now—guilt over deception lifted.

“Master?”

“Yes, young man?”

“That’s the opposite direction of town...”

“Uh... hehe. Just a joke!”

“Not funny.”

At least his terrible sense of direction wasn’t an act.