I Tried Magic, Punched Bandits, and Got K.O.’d by a Slime

I woke up feeling like I’d been run over by a truck.
Actually, scratch that — by several trucks. My skull throbbed with a dull, all-encompassing ache, and my mouth was dry and pasty. It was exactly like the aftermath of one of my legendary hangovers… except worse.

Groaning, I forced my eyes open. A leafy canopy spread out above me, branches entwined to let streams of golden sunlight pierce through. The air smelled of damp earth and rotting leaves. Beneath me, a soft bed of moss cushioned my body. I was lying flat on my back, in what looked like a forest.

“What the hell…”

That voice — wait. That wasn’t my voice. It was deeper, rougher.

I raised my hands to my face and froze.
These… weren’t my hands. Broader, rougher, marked with scars I definitely didn’t remember earning.

“Shit. She really did it…”

That cardboard-cutout excuse for a deity. That smug bastard actually kept her word. I was in another world, in another body, with more questions than answers.

“Well, well… look who’s awake.”

I shot upright, adrenaline instantly wiping away my grogginess. Three men stood around me in a loose semicircle. Dirty clothes, rust-stained weapons, toothless grins — they looked exactly like the kind of bandits you bump into in every RPG ever made.

“I could’ve sworn I killed that one,” muttered the bearded one, scratching at his filthy jaw. “Stabbed him straight in the heart. How’s he still moving?”

I glanced down at my chest. My tunic was torn and stiff with dried blood, but underneath, the skin was completely unmarked. No wound. Not even a scar.

“An effect of the reincarnation…?” I mumbled. “This body must’ve already been dead when I took over.”

“What’s that freak mumbling about?” sneered the skinny one with a chipped knife.

“Doesn’t matter,” said the third man — the leader, judging by the confident smirk and slightly better posture. “He’s still breathing. Let’s finish the job.”

They stepped toward me, weapons raised.
Great. My very first experience in a fantasy world was about to be a roadside mugging.

But hold on — this was a fantasy world, wasn’t it? The so-called “Being X” had said as much. Which meant… magic, right?

Let’s see what my new powers can do.

I pushed myself to my feet, still awkward in this unfamiliar body. It was taller than my original one, heavier too — broader shoulders, more muscle. If I had to guess, the previous owner was in his forties. Solid build, though.

“Stop right there, vile ruffians!” I declared theatrically.

The bandits blinked, caught off guard by the sudden change in my tone.

“I shall show you the true power of my magic!”

All those evenings listening to my neighbor’s fifteen-year-old chūnibyō son screech anime incantations on his balcony… maybe they were finally going to pay off.

I struck the most dramatic pose I could manage: feet spread apart, one arm raised toward the heavens.

“Ignis Dominus, flare up! Fireball!”

I swept my hand downward, fully expecting a blazing sphere of death to erupt forth and incinerate these vermin.

…Nothing.

Silence.

No spark, no flame, not even a pitiful puff of smoke. Just me, frozen mid-pose like some kind of idiot scarecrow.

Heat crept up my neck. Oh, the shame. The utter humiliation.

The bandits stared at me in stunned silence. Then one of them snorted. Another started chuckling. Within seconds, all three were howling with laughter.

“Ignis Dominus!” mocked the leader, mimicking my pose with exaggerated flair. “Flare up! Hah! Did you see that, Marvik?”

“We must’ve hit this clown too hard!” cackled the skinny one — apparently named Marvik.

“All right, enough fun,” said the third between giggles. “We need him dead if we want the money.”

They advanced again, blades glinting dully. Their mistake. Sure, I didn’t have magic. And yes, I’d just made a colossal fool of myself. But I had something they didn’t.

The leader came closer, rusty sword pointed at my throat.
“Be a good boy and hold still. This’ll be quick.”

“Yeah? Then grit your teeth, asshole.”

I drove my fist into his face with everything I had. The satisfying crunch of his nose shattering was music to my ears. He toppled backward, blood gushing down his ruined nose.

“Bastard!” Marvik screamed, lunging at me with his dagger.

I sidestepped smoothly and slammed my knee into his ribs. He folded over, wheezing like a punctured accordion. The third tried to smash my skull in with a club, but I was already moving.

This body was stronger and faster than my old one. And my ER-doctor reflexes, honed under pressure, were kicking in instinctively.

Punch to the solar plexus. Leg sweep. Arm lock.

In under two minutes, all three bandits were on the ground, groaning and clutching various injured body parts — but alive.

“Well, that was efficient,” I muttered, brushing moss off my tunic.

I searched their pockets, turning up a few unfamiliar coins, a reasonably clean knife, and a small red gemstone. Not exactly a dragon’s hoard, but better than nothing.

The bandits crawled away, beaten and terrified, no longer a threat. Good riddance.

I turned and began walking deeper into the forest, mentally taking stock.

Okay. New world — check.
New body — check.
Nearly murdered — also check.
Magic? Apparently a bust.

Next step: find civilization, figure out the local rules, and most importantly, survive.

Being X had mentioned that healing magic was restricted to the elites. Maybe my medical knowledge could give me an edge? Human anatomy is human anatomy… probably. Hopefully.

I’d been walking for about ten minutes when something dropped from the sky right in front of my face.

It was… a thing.
Gelatinous. Translucent. About the size of a soccer ball. It wobbled softly, like a mound of jiggling jelly.

“…A slime? Seriously?”

The classic beginner monster. The tutorial enemy. Zero threat. Zero effort. Just there so newbies could learn the combat system.

“You picked the wrong day to mess with me, jellyball. I’ve had enough crap for one morning.”

I raised my fist, fully intending to splatter it in a single hit. After all, it was just a slime. What could possibly go wrong?

My punch landed square in the middle of the creature. It compressed like rubber… and then launched itself away like a spring, bouncing off a tree behind me, ricocheting off another, and slingshotting straight back at my head at terrifying speed.

“Oh, crap —”

WHAM.

The slime slammed into my forehead like a cannonball, right between the eyes. My vision exploded into a kaleidoscope of stars before fading to black.

My last thought before losing consciousness was:
“Goddammit… killed by a freaking slime…”

And then darkness swallowed me again.

 ***

Killed by a slime. A slime, for crying out loud.
If someone had told me back on Earth that I’d one day be knocked out by a bouncing ball of gelatin, I would’ve laughed in their face.

Next time, maybe I’ll think twice before punching unknown creatures.

Assuming… there is a next time.