Chapter Text
Jake Harlan was on top of the world.
Eighteen years old, 6'4" of pure muscle, star quarterback, broad shoulders that stretched every shirt, ripped abs you could grate cheese on, and powerful thighs that made girls bite their lips when he walked by. His cock was the kind of thick, heavy tool that had earned him plenty of locker-room bragging rights and even more late-night conquests. Life was simple: football, parties, girls throwing themselves at him, and the future wide open.
That night, after another victory, he’d spotted a cute brunette cheerleader leaning against the wall outside the stadium. Jake flashed his signature cocky grin and sauntered over, voice low and confident.
“Hey baby, you look like you could use a real man to—”
He never finished the sentence.
A grand piano —somehow dislodged from the third floor music room during the victory party— plummeted straight down and smashed on his head with a sickening crunch.
Darkness.
Then… light.
Jake’s eyes snapped open.
He was lying on cold cobblestones in a narrow alley. The air smelled of smoke, bread, horse shit, and something sweet he couldn’t name. Tall timber-and-stone buildings on both sides, their roofs tiled in deep emerald and silver. Strange banners with crescent moons fluttered overhead. People in tunics, cloaks, and leather armor moved through the street beyond the alley, speaking a language that somehow sounded both foreign and perfectly understandable.
Jake sat up fast, heart hammering. His body felt exactly the same —tall, muscular, still wearing in his torn game-day jersey and football pants. Even his impressive bulge between his legs was right where it should be.
“What the fuck…?” he muttered, rubbing the back of his head. No pain. No blood. “This has gotta be a dream. Yeah. Crazy-ass dream after getting flattened by a piano. I’ll wake up any second.”
He pinched his arm. Hard. Nothing changed.
He slapped himself across the face. Still nothing.
“Alright, brain. Joke’s over. Wake up.”
But the world refused to dissolve. The cold stones bit into his palms. His stomach was already starting to feel hollow. He stood up and stepped out into the bustling street.
The city was called Brugudai, capital of the Moonshine Dukedom in the vast world of Eldoria. Jake didn’t know any of that yet. All he knew was that none of it felt real.
He wandered for hours, staring at everything like a tourist in his own hallucination. Merchants hawked glowing potions, blacksmiths hammered blades that sparked with faint blue light, he even saw what could only be described as dwars pulling a cart loaded with crates. Every time someone bumped into him, he expected to jolt awake in a hospital bed.
He didn’t.
By the time the twin moons rose—two silver crescents hanging low in the purple sky—Jake was still there, still very much not back on Earth.
He found a quiet corner behind a bakery and curled up, using his jersey as a makeshift pillow.
“This is fucked,” he whispered to himself. “But it’s just a dream. Gotta be. I’ll wake up tomorrow.”
He didn’t.
Day Two
Jake woke up shivering. The morning air was cold, and his stomach growled so loudly it startled a passing catfolk girl who hissed at him before scampering away.
He was hungry. Actually, painfully hungry. His mouth was dry. His joints ached from sleeping on stone. The reality finally crashed over him like a linebacker.
This wasn’t a dream.
He was dead.
He had died under a fucking piano, and now he was… somewhere else. Reincarnated? Transported? Whatever the word was, he was here. Completely broke, completely lost, and completely alone in a fantasy world he knew nothing about.
“Fuck… fuck, fuck, fuck,” he muttered, running a hand through his messy brown hair. “Okay, think. First: survive. I need food. Money. A place to sleep that isn’t freezing cobblestones.”
He stood, brushed the dirt off his clothes, and started walking. His legs carried him easily through the crowded streets, thinking about, how vulnerable he was without cash, weapons, or even a single friend.
He passed food stalls that made his mouth water—skewers of sizzling meat, fresh bread, strange glowing fruits—but he had nothing to trade. A few merchants glared at his obviously foreign clothes and muscular build, muttering about “big dumb commoners causing trouble.”
By midday Jake’s stomach was cramping. He was cold, tired, and starting to feel the first real pangs of fear.
Then he saw it.
A large wooden sign hanging above a sturdy stone building:
Adventurers Guild – Brugudai Branch
All ranks welcome. Glory, gold, and growth await!
Jake stopped dead in the middle of the street, staring.
Memories flooded back—his mother reading him bedtime stories when he was little. Tales of brave adventurers, swords and sorcery, dragons, treasures, beautiful companions. Tiny Jake had declared every night that when he grew up he was going to be the greatest hero the world had ever seen.
A small, almost childish smile tugged at his lips for the first time since waking up here.
“Well… shit,” he said softly. “Guess the universe is giving me a second chance.”
He rolled his shoulders, cracked his neck, and strode toward the guild hall with the same confident swagger he used to wear onto the football field.
The heavy oak doors creaked open.
Inside was chaos and life. Long wooden tables filled with rough-looking men and women drinking, laughing, arguing over maps. A huge board covered in parchment requests covered one wall. Behind a long counter stood a pretty dark-haired receptionist in a tight vest that showed off impressive cleavage. She looked up as the towering, muscular young man in torn clothes entered.
“New face,” she called, voice friendly but professional. “First time at the guild?”
Jake walked straight up ther. His ripped abs were visible through the torn jersey, powerful arms flexing as he leaned on the counter.
“Yeah,” he said, flashing that cocky jock grin out of habit. “Name’s Jake Harlan. Just… arrived. Looking to become an adventurer.”
The receptionist’s eyes widened slightly as she took in his height and build. “Well, you’ve got the physique for it, that’s for sure. Most rookies are scrawny. You’ll need to register first.”
She slid a crystal tablet toward him. “Place your hand on the Soul Crystal. It’ll scan your soul and assign your starting status.”
Jake hesitated for half a second, then pressed his large palm onto the glowing crystal.
A rush of warmth shot up his arm. Blue translucent boxes—exactly like the ones in every LitRPG story he’d secretly read—popped into existence only he could see.
[System Activation Complete]
[Welcome, Otherworlder. You have been reincarnated in Eldoria.]
[Name: Jake Harlan]
[Race: Human (Earth Reincarnate)]
[Class: Commoner (Latent Potential: Warrior / Champion / … ? )]
[Level: 1]
[Stats:
Strength: 24
Dexterity: 13
Constitution: 20
Intelligence: 10
Wisdom: 8
Charisma: 16
Libido: 19
[Hidden Trait Unlocked: Reincarnated Soul – Your carry Earth knowledge, but Eldoria’s System will reshape your path according to your choices and… deeper desires.]
The receptionist smiled. “Congratulations, Jake. You’re officially registered as an F-rank adventurer. Here’s your guild card for now. First quest recommendations are on the board. Most newbies start with herb gathering or rat extermination in the sewers. Nothing too glamorous, but it pays for food and a cheap inn room.”
Jake took the small card, still staring at the floating blue boxes only he could see. His stomach growled again, loud enough that the receptionist heard it and gave him a sympathetic look.
“Rough day?” she asked gently.
“You have no idea,” he muttered.
He turned toward the quest board, mind racing. Part of him still wanted to hit on the pretty receptionist—old habits—but the gnawing hunger and the cold night he’d just survived reminded him of his new reality.
No money. No home. No idea how anything worked.
But he was here. Alive. Strong. And the childhood dream his mother had planted was suddenly the only path that made sense.
Jake Harlan, former star quarterback, took a deep breath, squared his massive shoulders, and stepped toward the board filled with paper requests.
“Alright,” he said under his breath, voice low and determined. “New life. New rules. Time to become the adventurer I wanted to be.”
He didn’t know, that the path of the “hero” that he longed for, would slowly, relentlessly strip away every ounce of his pride. If he knew what was ahead of him he would have never continued down this path.
For now, all Jake Harlan knew that he was hungry, cold, and the burning desire to prove he could survive this new world.
He reached up and tore the easiest-looking quest off the board:
F-rank Quest: Clear Sewer Rats – 5 copper per tail. Report to Guild after.
Jake Harlan smiled grimly.
“First step,” he whispered.
And so the fall of the proud jock began—not with a bang, but with a quite teering sound by the board in the capital city of Brugudai.