What Happened Last Time?

“How did you know?” Han asked quietly. His voice carried weight, wary yet searching. “Have you also travelled back in time?”

A slight smile played across Joseph’s lips, unsurprised as his theory proved true. “No, I haven’t regressed, or time travelled, but I have read a ridiculous number of novels and games. Those questions earlier? They’re just the usual tropes. Regression, reincarnation, divine sponsorship, game worlds—those things show up everywhere in books and games.

And so far, you’ve matched nearly every trope a protagonist does, with the exception of being naively idealistic, a cold-hearted killer who trusts no one, or a fool who relies only on the power of friendship.”

His eyes glinted with wry amusement. “Though, to be fair, the naïve part is questionable. The fact you let your weapon down so quickly and even confirmed my question… not really the best move. So maybe that trope just lies dormant, waiting to awaken like an F-tier protagonist.”

Han grimaced, dragging a palm across his face with an audible smack. “It’s been too long since I’ve been on Earth. Do stories like that really exist? Most of the people who came from our world died in this trial in my previous life and those alive at the moment have never mentioned them.”

Intrigued, Joseph pressed. “Interesting… well in the grand scheme of the population they would be classed as a niche genre and if there was anyone else it wouldn’t surprise me if they died early on. Nerds don’t usually have the best survival odds. Anyway, previous life? Sounds like some useful info.”

Han hesitated, then answered honestly, voice low. “Honestly, I am not fully sure this is a direct time travel, I think this may be an alternate timeline, hell maybe even a cruel illusion. To my knowledge, you never existed before.

In all my years back then, I only ever saw our group from Earth, and you weren’t part of it, or if you were, you died immediately and never made it to camp. Westerners stand out, as do some of the other ethnicities from less populated parts of the world.”

His tone darkened. “The distribution’s quite statistically fair, so the numbers lean heavy—Indians and Chinese make up over half of everyone here. That caused endless problems in my last life, especially under a bastard named Chen Ming, a mobster who enslaved most of the participants.

He used them as meat shields while he and his elites stole the kills. Sigh. As for other Westerners—there are a few. Six Americans, a handful of Europeans, maybe ten from elsewhere. The rest are Indian or Chinese.

Altogether, there are about fifty in camp right now. I’ve no idea how many were summoned at the start… but it must have been at least in the hundreds.”

Han’s face soured at the thought of the lost lives, but Joseph’s expression stayed flat and vacant.

“Hmm. Cultural differences often spark conflict, though I’m still a little surprised given the situation. People usually manage to cooperate under conditions like this, at least historically… or so I assume. I don’t exactly have a history degree.”

Han let out a proud smile. “And we are, everyone back at camp is working hard to ensure all of our survival. Regardless of beliefs, ethnicity and culture we’re pushing forward for us all.”

Joseph rolled his eyes a little. “Such paradise. So, is that it? All the useful information you’ve got? Bit of a letdown for a main character, don’t you think?”

Han’s brows twitched as he straightened with confidence. “That’s far from everything I know. But if you want more, join my party. I can’t promise a smooth road, especially with my goals, but I’ll help however I can, for as long as I can.

I don’t want to strain things between us. You can join as a temporary ally, or even just as a friend but when the time comes, I hope you can be an ally I can turn to.”

After their silent standoff, they returned to the fire, both masking their emotions. The flames cast shifting shadows across their faces as Han addressed the other two. “Logan, Che—this is Joseph, our temporary party member. He’ll take the archer’s role, picking off enemies from range and backing Che with magic if she’s overwhelmed.”

Logan jumped up and greeted him with a warm grin and a firm handshake, the arrow in the foot seemingly water under the bridge. Maybe it was the shared ethnicity, but Joseph didn’t instantly dislike him. Che, on the other hand, stayed guarded, offering only a polite nod.

Han clarified the arrangement. “Though he’s with us, Joseph isn’t under my command. He’s allied, not subordinate. He won’t call me leader, and he’ll make his own choices. I hope that’s acceptable.”

Neither objected. They’d seen enough of his work to know having him in the party was a positive.

Joseph expanded the concrete platform above, shaping a small flame to light it. “Looks like we’ve got different sleep schedules. I’ll explore alone for now and return after a while. You three can rest on the platform—it’s safe, no watch needed. Honestly, I think I’ve killed all those… Elder Rukvars? Anyway, I’ve not had any appear for a while.”

Without protest, they climbed up, impressed by the simple efficiency. Joseph tossed them some hides for crude bedding, then dropped down and jogged off, spirit-enhanced boots carrying him quickly through the maze.

Several hours later, he returned—the trip back taking only a fraction of the time. He dozed for the last couple of hours on another platform, until Han stirred awake and woke him up.

As they stretched off the muscle cramp, Joseph prepared some breakfast over a small fire, sharing a simple meal as Han peppered Joseph with questions about his time in the starting chamber. Joseph spoke openly enough, though he carefully sidestepped anything too sensitive.

After they ate, Joseph asked, “What’s the plan for moving? I usually jog to cover ground efficiently, but can you keep up over distance?” His eyes settled on Che. “She doesn’t look built for stamina—dead weight, really. Formation-wise, it won’t matter much. The Elder Rukvar aren’t that tough anyway.”

Che shot daggers at Joseph, muttering “pig” under her breath as she huffed. Han only sighed, hoping they’d eventually get along. For now, at least, the tension stayed confined to sharp words.

“Formation shouldn’t matter at the moment unless we come across trouble, in which case Logan at the front, Che in the middle, Joseph you’re at the back. I will go wherever needed to fill in the gap. As for exploration…”

Han glanced at Che, knowing she had the lowest dexterity and agility of the group and the least natural stamina. He was about to resign them to walking when Joseph suddenly raised a brow.

Joseph took a few steps back, before he conjured some shapes made of concrete. A small rectangular base, four wheels, a few cylinders, and some supports. While initially confused, they soon saw the picture and after slotting everything into place, Joseph stood on a crude concrete skateboard.

“Problem solved. I call it the Deadweight skateboard. Between the three of us, dragging her won’t be an issue. Better than piggybacking—it’ll be noisy, but that’s even better.”

Che’s face burned as she stepped onto the contraption. Logan snickered to himself, knowing how much she was holding back her fiery personality for the sake of not causing a scene.

Han smiled faintly. ‘At least they’re bonding… sort of.’

They set off at a steady jog, taking turns every few hours to pull Che along and resting as needed. For sixteen hours they pressed forward. Che fumed the whole time, treated like baggage, her only “role” holding the rope in one hand and her staff in the other like a moving torch.