Plink! Plink!
Sean twisted the faucet shut before staring into the mirror's reflection. He was turning his head while getting a closer look, as if he were a teenager trying to see if his stubble had grown. He pulled down his lower eyelid to look at his eyes.
"Never seen black eyes before, isn't that noticeable though, almost looks like a dark shade of brown," then his hand ran through his hair. Despite its spiky nature, it was soft to the touch, "and they are also black, definitely Saiyan-esque." His hands ran down his neck, examining his neck and shoulders before moving to other major parts of his upper body, pushing and feeling his muscles before he let out a disappointed sigh.
"Shouldn't I have gotten an upgrade, why am I this lanky?" Sean thought as he started flexing. Side chest to a double lat spread before transitioning to the double bicep pose. Not only had he lost the muscle mass that he had built up over years of training, he now held less mass than an endurance athlete. It looked sickly, as if the moment he was touched, he would break apart.
"I don't expect a Z-Fighter physique, but this- does he not know what exercise or food is? Who am I, malnourished Tarble? Cabba 2.0?" Sean turned to his back, his eyes flickering to his tail, watching it for a moment as it swayed.
"Alright, no point in hesitating." He took a deep breath before pulling down his pants. His gaze directly landed between his legs. "Phew, at least no new insecurities." He then turned around to look at his tail, frowning for a moment. "So strange to look at." His gaze wandered down as he turned and twisted. "Somewhat decent legs, I guess. Good calves' genetics."
After giving himself another once-over, he got dressed again and walked out of the bathroom. He glanced at the folder and the phone that were neatly placed on the nightstand. His mind conjured up the things that he had read about the person he apparently had become, or a backstory that someone else had created to mess with him.
Despite the strong suspicion, there was still reasonable doubt. The only ones that were 100 percent convinced they were transmigrated after a few hours probably wanted it to be true or didn't really think about the consequences.
Although being a Saiyan was a childhood dream come true, he dreaded the possibility of him being in another world, another universe. At this point, he was hoping that he had volunteered for some high-tech simulation experience. After all, he was a man with friends, family, ambitions and goals, hobbies to pursue and places to visit. There was so much he wanted to do, and now? He wasn't even sure who he was!
He picked up the phone and started to use plex.go, apparently this world's equivalent to Google. First, he researched this SDN company he was now apparently working for. SDN, or rather Superhero Dispatch Network, was a private organization that did what its name indicated: dispatch superheroes to help subscribers that called for help. It was pretty straightforward and, honestly, a company's goal that he could get behind. At least, it sounded 'Good', ignoring whether something nefarious was going on behind the curtains.
"Hopefully, this isn't a 'The Boys'-scenario." He grumbled as he switched to some news channel. Most of the recent news talked about heroes and villains, which, despite having anticipated it, didn't make him feel particularly good. Coupled with his ongoing existential crisis, the pit in his stomach turned into an abyss that seemed to tear him apart as he searched about the heroes of the world. Their deeds and achievements. How they came to be. The sudden rise in special powers over the last few hundred years.
'Unfortunately, even the heroes and villains don't ring any bells. There are no Wonder Woman, Superman, no Iron Man or Spider-Man. No hint of an All Might, All for One, no Caped Baldy. Hell, there aren't even Power Rangers or Magical Girls. At least, there is no Homelander either. Honestly, most heroes sound ridiculous, like they picked their favorite meme and went with it!' Sean shook his head.
It wasn't just that these heroes and villains he remembered weren't active, there was no mention of them either. There were no comics, manga, anime, series, or anything else mentioning them. In this world, these heroes he remembered weren't even fiction.
His attention turned to something else, something more tangible for him. Countries. After having invested as much time as he did into GeoGuessr, he was pretty confident in spotting anything weird.
However, as he dived into it, his confidence turned brittle and his face contorted into frustration. He should have known all 193 UN member states plus several disputed territories, their locations and their flags, but his mind just went blank on too many counts. It wasn't just that he couldn't recognize the ones he found in this world. It was more like a big chunk of his memories had been wiped.
For a moment, he considered throwing his phone against the wall. In frustration, he turned to something else where he had hope in finding something he could remember. Unfortunately, music wasn't much better. There were memories he was missing, while the stuff he found online was unrecognizable for the most part.
Sean had searched for several artists or songs, but mostly came up with nothing. The older the song, the likelier it was that something in its stead existed. In the first few minutes, he figured that just the names of those famous compositions would be different, but after listening to a few songs, he was losing hope.
Weirdly enough, there were some that came close to what he remembered, but they remained different enough to be recognizable as something new or a mix of something. It was frustrating to a degree he found difficult to explain. Weirdly enough, if everything were completely different—be it music or countries—it felt like he would have an easier time accepting that he was just in a different world and he had transmigrated, but having something familiar while it not being the same…
It made him second-guess his memories, coupled with the fact that some memories were missing… In the end, it led to another conclusion that didn't feel right. It was him having something wrong with his memories. After all, it was more likely than his soul ending up in another supposedly Saiyan's body in some alternate parallel universe.
At this moment, he felt lost and vulnerable, like he was being stripped of his identity. Losing his memories was an old fear he had inherited from his father, who in turn had lost his father to Alzheimer’s. He always told Sean that his heart broke every time his father asked him who he was…
He shook his head. Whether it was transmigration or something akin to Alzheimer’s, it felt like choosing between the plague or cholera.
Games, movies, and series were even more unrecognizable. Not only did he remember less than he had hoped, the few things he could remember in great detail didn't seem to exist, or something completely different took their place.
"Fuck. Fuck!" He glanced at the ceiling. At this point, he desperately wanted to talk to someone, but all the contacts on his phone were unfamiliar, he was in a different country in an unfamiliar world. The worst part? This might be just his new life.
Feeling the sting behind his eyes, he shut them as if to trap any potential tears threatening to fall. He took several deep breaths to calm the storm in his chest before pocketing his phone and the folder as he headed outside. Down the hall, he came across a reception desk with a guy behind the counter writing something and a woman who was on the phone. They were dressed as nurses, so Sean figured they fulfilled both roles: directing any visitors and caring for the patients.
"Can I leave this with you?" Sean asked as he put the folder down on the counter.
The guy looked at the folder placed before him for a second. "Yes, you can. Thank you, Saiyan..." He seemed to hesitate as Sean forced a smile at the mention of his new name. He stood up to give Sean an inquisitive look. "You're feeling better already?" he finally asked. It felt like he asked more out of professional courtesy than any true concern.
"I just want to take a walk around, trying to refresh my memories." Honestly, he felt stifled in the room and guessed that if he continued to ruminate in there alone, he might just completely lose his mind.
"Just make sure not to wander off the premises. Although people with an elevated regenerative ability usually recover quickly and the doctor has cleared you, sometimes there could still be complications and it's best if you are close by, so we can react quicker." There was also his durability, but apparently that and his regeneration were chalked up to him being a 'Wereape'. Why his agility wasn't, was beyond him.
Although he didn't feel like it, Sean nodded with a smile. "Thanks for the reminder. I'll keep it in mind." For some reason, his response seemed to have caught the receptionist off guard.
"O-of course, it's my job."
Sean was about to continue when he realized something. "Before I forget, there should be a locker or something with my personal belongings, right? If I need a code, then- well, I don't remember it."
"Right. Wait a second-" He turned to a colleague, who was on a phone call. "Could you take over for a sec?" The colleague gave him a thumbs-up and a quick nod.
The two continued down the hallway again. They walked past a sign indicating which floor they were on. 'Basement, huh? Wouldn’t it make more sense to have the infirmary on the first floor? That would make it easier if they needed to transport their patients to a real hospital.'
There was also an overview sign indicating that there was a lab on this level, but he doubted that he could just waltz into something like that. After thinking for a moment, he just followed the guy to what appeared to be the changing room.
"So, which locker was it?" the guy asked, making Sean give him a blank look.
"…I don't remember."
"Oh, right. Force of habit. Let's go through them. I think it was around here." He walked in, turned the corner to the left, walked past one bank of lockers before heading to the corner.
He then continued to open two lockers before presenting the second one to Sean. "This should be yours, right? I think this was your bag."
"Why do you know where my locker is and how my bag looks?" Perhaps Sean was overthinking it, but the guy was pretty confident about where his locker's approximate location was. From what he could tell, the lockers weren't personal ones, so he could have chosen any locker.
Sean glanced to the back from where they came from. On the other side were some stalls, sinks, and then a rather open shower. Along the way was a plethora of lockers.
"I helped you unlock your locker when you started here and forgot your code. Most people stick to one locker, or at least the same area."
"So, we are acquainted?" Sean glanced at the guy. He looked average: buzz cut with black hair, average build and looks, donned in a nurse's clothes.
"You could say that, though we didn't really speak much besides the three times you demanded your locker be unlocked. Right, if you want to lock it again, just press the symbol, then some numbers, and then the symbol again. If it's locked, do the same to unlock it with the sequence of numbers you used to lock it with." As the guy spoke, Sean glanced inside the locker. A bag, shoes, and some clothes.
"What is your name again?" Sean asked as he glanced at the name tag on his chest.
"Stephen."
"Nice to meet you, Stephen, and thanks for helping me out." Sean offered his hand, only for Stephen to take a moment to look at it before accepting the handshake, a bit flustered. "You good?"
"What- yeah, no. I'm fine." He chuckled a bit nervously.
"Riiight…" Sean started to open the bag. It was empty, probably just something to transport his clothes with, also a towel and shampoo.
"It's just… you're too polite."
Sean raised an eyebrow at that. "Hm? I'm just thanking you... Just to clarify, I'm not into guys."
"No- that's not. Whatever, man. Anyway, I've got to go back to duty. If you need something, Saiyan, I'm supposed to take care of you. I'll be on duty until the late shift comes." The guy then stormed off.
"Strange," Sean muttered. He shook his head and pulled out the wallet he found in the bag. When he unfolded it, there was a picture of Kohjin and his mom inside the ID pocket. There were some bills and cards inside, which might not be usable anymore without the codes. There was an ID tucked in between his credit cards: Kohjin, no surname, born in 1997, brown eyes, ability holder.
'Huh? Are all people with powers registered, or is it because Kohjin had been arrested before?' His intuition leaned more toward the latter option. His attention turned to the credit cards again. He would have to search for any documents that contained the codes. Hopefully, he had a folder-
At that moment, he remembered that he didn't even know where he lived. He took out his phone and went to the maps app. A sigh of relief escaped him as he saw an address come up as his home address before realizing that he was in Torrance, which should be in California, if his memory served him right.
"Strange, I figured cities would be even less recognizable. And why do I remember this city of all other cities?" He muttered quietly as he searched through his bag and then his jacket before finally finding some keys, which he hoped included the keys to his apartment. At least, with this, once he had to leave the hospital, he would have an indication of where to go.
With his basics sorted, he needed to come up with a name to go with. Being called Saiyan felt strange to his ears. Although it was just his hero-name before, he felt awkward hearing it. It was the same as if he was called human, ironically it felt dehumanizing despite the fact that he shouldnt feel strongly about it...
He also didn't want to go with Kohjin. If he did, it would feel like he was… accepting all of this as reality.
He also didn't want to use his old name. It would feel like he was desecrating this body's identity, like he was overriding the name of someone's grave with his own. Or perhaps it was just because, for some strange reason, he feared hearing his name being called in this world. There was no instinctive dread of a higher being or something absurd, he just felt like he didn't want the people of this world to call him by his name. In a way, it felt sacred…
However, this left him with no name and that's not really an option either. 'I'm neither Kohjin nor Sean, I am Kohsean, Kohean, Korean? What? Sejin? Sojin? Soul society- Whatever. I'll figure something out.'
He put away his stuff and locked it away again. Getting to open his locker and seeing the stuff he had at hand was just to get an overview of what his options were. There were a few bills, but nothing that could last him forever. One task that he mentally noted was getting access to his bank account. Either way, he would have to go to that home address at one point.
Of course, this would have to wait until he was cleared to leave. As for leaving already and just running out, he did think about it, but he figured it was too early to test boundaries. They told him that he only needed to stay the night and truthfully, he didn't feel ready yet to face the world outside.
In an unknown world, it was also appropriate to be cautious. He wasn't going to defy the medical personnel hired by the very people that allowed him to not rot away in a cell.
As he walked the hallways and remembered all the fire exits, staircases, and elevators, he started exploring the basement. There was more than he expected on this floor: the changing rooms, a rather large rec room divided into a gym area, a place to play table tennis and billiards, while on the other side was a small kitchen area and lots of sitting areas. It was a rather generous place.
They also did a great job somehow not making it apparent that it was the basement. If he hadn’t read the signs, he would have never guessed it. He walked up the stairs to the first-floor level and entered the lobby.
The lobby was rather large as well, or rather it appeared big because of the large glass front letting lots of natural light inside. Honestly, he was quite impressed with everything until now, it didn't feel like a bad place to work at. As he watched the door swing open and office workers come inside, he glanced outside, seeing a parking lot, tempting him to just leave the place for a moment.
'A criminal… With my record, I probably was a villain.' He shook his head, 'At least, I haven't committed any mass murders. A Saiyan wanting to do mayhem surely wouldn't be a petty thief.'
Him escaping wouldn’t do well for him. He wasn't even sure what his liberties were and whether they put a tracker into him to check his location. He didn’t want to start a chase with the police just yet.
As his mind conjured up some imaginary scenarios, he heard some whispers pertaining to him.
"Heard he lost his memories."
"Hopefully, he isn't grumpy because he got injured again."
There were several similar reactions as he wandered through the rec room. Most of the office workers avoided him. Some of them whispered about his ‘memory loss’, despite having only occurred a few hours ago. However, what unnerved him more was that he was capable of hearing what they whispered among themselves. It just further hammered the weirdness of his situation in again.
He turned his back to the entrance and continued exploring. There wasn’t much to see. The floor mostly consisted of the lobby and some hallways that went around a central inner courtyard. There were some rooms as well.
After having looked into a few, he guessed that most were just some additional meeting rooms or storerooms.
The inner courtyard of the building, or the ‘Green Space’ as it was signed, was nicely designed and it gave him a brief glimpse into the second floor and the third floor.
The third floor was hard to look into, but from down there, it just looked like a continuation of the office vibe from the first floor.
Without much hesitation, he went up to the second floor and ran into a rather busy crowd. With a sense of urgency, people hurried along or were talking animatedly with their headsets on. 'They must have headphones with pretty good noise-cancellation.' Sean thought as he remembered how distracting noisy offices could be.
Among the people, he recognized a few from when he was hurried down in a stretcher. He hadn't truly perceived them then. However, now while taking his time to observe them, he had a strange feeling coming up again when looking at a creature that was so alien that it didn’t even give him uncanny valley vibes. It did activate some part of his brain that seemed to perceive other predators.
He observed them as he explored the office. Strangely, the computers they were using were old, which was strange since everything else he had seen was modern. He went through the hallways and noticed that among the workers there wasn't a small percentage of what appeared to be ability holders like himself or were true aliens.
The second floor was just a conglomeration of whatever an office needed. Scanners, printers, old computers, cubicles, office rooms, among which was the large conference room, a boardroom, and a couple of bathrooms.
There was only one office that had a name on it. "Blonde Blazer, I think that was a big shot I saw in some recent news article." He muttered before heading up. He wasn't sure what he expected, but it wasn't a normal office. Honestly, it only made it strange with how normal it was.
The third floor was the IT section, lots of computer parts and a big server room. Not sure what they were used for. With that, he was done with his tour and headed back down again. Perhaps the walk calmed his paranoid ass down to the point that he realized that he could just ask to leave the hospital earlier. They were confident enough to let him roam the building, so they didn't seem too concerned about the injury being anything serious.
He headed down and was about to go into the infirmary when he walked past the gym. Having regularly visited a variety of gyms in different cities or even countries made him feel at ease every time he visited one, even those he hadn't been to before. Although the layout, machines, and people were different, once the weights were in his hands these differences were insignificant and everything else turned routine.
There was a desire in him for something familiar, so without thinking more about it, he went inside. He didn't have proper gym clothes, but the clothes he wore felt like they were designed to move in. A look around made him spot a towel shelf with a sign urging one to take one and place it on the machines when they use it. He took one and started mentally noting down the machines they had.
The gym wasn't full, full, but there was a decent amount of people. All the incline benches were taken, so he went with a regular bench to do bench presses with. His mind was at ease as he started warming up his joints for a minute or two before continuing his warm up with the bar. The moment he started pressing, he felt strange.
Due to the arc in the back, the tail was surprisingly fine, but when he performed the movement, he was shaky. It wasn't because it was difficult, but because it felt unfamiliar. A movement he had done thousands of times now felt unfamiliar.
'I guess new body means I have to relearn the movements.' Although, in theory, the movement wasn't complex, it came down to the details. The micro-adjustments of muscle strands that stabilized the weight or pushed the weight into the correct and most efficient arc were something that would take some time to master again.
Fortunately, his memory was mostly intact when he thought about the key points of the movement and started to consciously adjust his posture. After doing a set, he pulled out his phone and started plexing or whatever the equivalent to googling was called. After finding the information he needed, he put two 25 lbs onto the bar.
"That should be 42ish kg." He muttered before he slid under the bar again. He adjusted his grip, tensed his traps, arched his back, and then unracked it. He was midway through his set when he realized that the movement was rather smooth. Smoother than it had any right to be, especially after realizing that this body probably did it for the second time ever.
The weight felt easy as well. It wouldn't have qualified as a warm up set a day ago, but here it felt just about right for one. Then his eyes searched the room for two 45s or another two 25s. There was a guy on his phone, probably 2 meters tall, who had something on that would have screamed cosplay if this was his old world. His bar was already loaded and there were 4 45s at his bench. Sean approached him, making him look up from his phone.
"Hey, do you mind if I take two of those-"
"Piss off." The guy went straight back to his phone again as if he hadn't just responded with hostility to someone approaching him.
Sean frowned. In the gym there sometimes were those with too much testosterone injected into their veins or just with too fragile an ego. Getting into a conflict in the gym had been a rare incident for Sean, not more often than any other place, but that didn't mean he had never experienced it.
Usually, the best way was to remain calm and try to handle it amicably or to just inform the staff of the gym. Of course, just giving way and dipping was an option as well. After all, there were other plates he could take. Honestly, dipping was probably the best option considering his current situation, but it was precisely because of his situation that he didn't react as he usually would have.
"The fuck is your problem, bitch?"