Chương 3: Fish Monger
Jiang Wei didn't wake up with a jolt. Instead, consciousness seeped back into him slowly, like the way water gradually warms before it reaches boiling. His body felt heavy, strangely compact, and his eyes fluttered open with the awareness that something wasn't right.
He tried to stretch but immediately realized he couldn't—his arms refused to move in the usual way. Panic gripped his chest as memories of what had just happened rushed back. The woman, the alley, the terrifying sensation of his body shifting... and then darkness.
He opened his eyes wider, adjusting to the light. The cold ground beneath him was too real, too solid to be a dream. His mind screamed at him to figure it out, to make sense of the new sensations, the awkwardness in his limbs—or lack thereof. Slowly, he rolled over onto his stomach and attempted to push himself up, but nothing worked the way it should have.
Flippers slapped awkwardly against the wet pavement.
"No... no way," Jiang gasped, his breath short, his heart pounding. Except it wasn't his voice that came out. The sound was more like a distressed honk. He craned his neck to look down at his body, and there it was again—the round, squat body of a penguin. Sleek black and white feathers covered what used to be his skin, and his legs, once long and human, were now short and webbed. His heart raced.
"I'm still a penguin!"
Panic surged through him again. He flapped his flippers helplessly, trying to regain some sense of control, but the motion was useless. He couldn't fight off the cold dread that settled in his gut as he tried to move. His body was no longer his. He was a bird—a penguin—and he had no idea how or why.
New York City's muffled chaos droned in the distance. The night air was cool against his feathers, but all Jiang could focus on was the absurd reality of what had happened. He twisted his head around, taking in the surroundings. He was still in the plaza, right by the fountain he had jumped into at the end of his frantic flight from the alley. The soft gurgle of the water was comforting in some distant way, but it didn't help ease the storm in his mind.
As if sensing his distress, the system pinged in his mind. A cold, mechanical voice echoed through his thoughts.
"Soul Evolution System active. Current form: Emperor Penguin. Synchronization at 45%."
He flinched, but there was nowhere to flinch to. His body had no range for grand gestures of surprise. The voice was still unfamiliar, yet the calm tone somehow contrasted sharply with the chaos inside his head.
"Additional abilities unlock as synchronization increases. Stage One objectives pending: Survival, Adaptation, Energy Accumulation."
Jiang let out another panicked squawk. His entire body shivered with frustration. "I don't need abilities," he honked. "I need to be human again!"
The system, as expected, didn't respond to his outburst. The world continued to move around him. People wandered through the streets, some far too busy to notice the lone penguin sitting near the fountain. A few kids pointed at him with mild curiosity, but no one seemed to find him too out of place in the grand scheme of things.
He glanced around nervously, unsure of what to do next. The system had given him vague objectives, but what the hell did survival mean when you were a penguin in New York? Was he supposed to just waddle around until something changed?
The thought was interrupted by a sudden ping in his mind.
"Mission initiated: Survive for 24 hours. Threats detected: 4. Time remaining: 23 hours, 52 minutes."
Jiang's heart sank. "Threats? What threats?" he squawked, eyes darting around as if answers would magically appear. The system gave him nothing more, though. Just a ticking clock and the knowledge that somewhere out there, something dangerous was coming for him.
As Jiang waddled awkwardly away from the fountain, trying to come to terms with his current reality, the city continued its usual hustle and bustle. But something felt off. His senses were sharper than before—not as sharp as a predator's, but enough to notice subtle changes in the environment. The noises of the city, once overwhelming, now felt more distant and muffled. His vision was narrower but more focused, catching movements in the shadows that he wouldn't have noticed before.
Survive for 24 hours? He thought bitterly. I can't even survive five minutes as a penguin!
He waddled down a side street, narrowly avoiding stepping into the path of a bicycle courier who swerved past him with a shouted curse. The frustration bubbled up inside him again. Everything about being a penguin was clumsy and difficult. He was slow, awkward, and ridiculously small compared to the people towering around him. He had no idea how he was supposed to survive, let alone fend off whatever the system considered a threat.
And then he saw it—a fish market.
The smell hit him before he even saw the stalls. Fresh, pungent, and somehow intoxicating. His stomach growled, or at least it felt like it did, though it came out as a low honk.
"Food," he whispered to himself, and for the first time since waking up, he felt a shred of hope. Penguins ate fish, right? This was at least something he could do. Jiang waddled toward the market, his body driven by an instinct he didn't quite understand. His new form seemed to react automatically, the scent of fresh seafood pulling him forward.
The fishmonger glanced at him with mild amusement as he drew closer. "What are you doing here, little guy?" the man said, chuckling to himself. "You lost?"
Jiang had no time for this. He just needed to get his flippers on some food. Maybe, just maybe, it would help him think, help him strategize. He eyed a bucket of freshly caught fish, glistening in the sunlight.
Before he could consider the consequences, he lunged forward, his beak aiming for the nearest fish. The cold, slimy texture filled his senses as he clamped down on it, tugging it free from the pile.
The fishmonger's eyes went wide. "Hey! What the—!"
Jiang, fish in his beak, turned and bolted—or, rather, waddled as fast as his little legs would carry him. The sound of the man shouting behind him spurred him on, adrenaline surging through his tiny body. He dodged between legs, slipped under carts, and scurried through the crowd, trying his best not to drop the fish.
His heart raced as he cut around the corner, barely avoiding a pedestrian with an oversized shopping bag. He could hear the fishmonger's angry shouts fading in the distance, but he didn't slow down. He needed to get somewhere safe, somewhere he could eat in peace and figure out what the hell was going on.
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