Reborn as Garen

Earth.

Huh? Insta-locking Yasuo to steal my position, are you? And insulting people too? You think I can't deal with you?

Young Man A sneered and moved his mouse over River King Tahm's icon.

Then, Young Man A heavily clicked Confirm.

"Here we go again!"

"Are we even allowed to play the game properly anymore?!"

Seeing Young Man A bring out his troll frog again, Garen, his friend in their duo queue, instantly broke down.

That's right, Garen's real name really was Garen, though the "Ga" in his name came from Qin Sword Saint Gai Nie.

Garen knew very well:

His buddy Young Man A had put all of River King's skill points into retaliating against his teammates.

That Troll Yasuo who had insulted people naturally wouldn't have a good gaming experience this match.

But Garen, a normal player who just wanted to play properly, could only join those two griefers in helplessly lamenting amid the intoxicating symphony of "an ally has been slain" and "your tower has been destroyed."

Forget it.

This game was completely doomed anyway. Might as well just mess around.

Disheartened, Garen looked at the champion selection screen on his computer, his mouse drifting aimlessly across the various Avatars.

At last, Garen's mouse instinctively stopped over a familiar Avatar—

His "true main champion."

This champion was renowned, known to all.

It was none other than the Greatsword of the League, the Might of Demacia—Garen!

Poet Saint Du Shaoling had once watched him perform the sword dance, marveling at its majestic bearing. Deeply impressed by the fluidity, brilliance, and unique excellence of his swordplay, he composed the "Sword Dance Ballad" in praise:

"One patch, one god; every patch, play Garen."

"One is silence, two is spin; beneath the Greatsword lie the souls of the fallen."

Garen suddenly recalled those lines of heroic praise and, as if possessed, clicked his mouse.

Confirm.

World of One Piece, East Blue. Samwell Island.

An endless emerald forest stretched into the distance. Dense canopies resembled giant umbrellas holding up the sky, while layer upon layer of branches merged into a boundless sea of verdant trees.

Beneath that sea of trees, under the dense forest canopy, a clear stream wound its way through.

The surroundings were quiet, with only the sound of spring water flowing.

Yet a man's ragged breathing shattered nature's tranquility.

He was powerfully built, with well-proportioned limbs and knotted muscles. Nearly two meters tall, his entire body radiated strength. Standing upright, he resembled an iron tower that would never fall.

Though his features could not be called delicate, he fully deserved to be described as handsome. His short black hair carried a refreshing air, and between his sword-like brows lay the steadfast resolve of a strong man.

At a glance, such an image made him seem like a New Nippori Philosopher.

Cough, cough.

No.

He was a perfect warrior!

However, this perfect warrior looked utterly miserable at the moment:

His eyes were blank and helpless, his lips dry and pale, and his knotted muscles were stained with dirt. He held a thick branch in his hand as a weapon for self-defense.

Even worse, he was not wearing a single piece of clothing. Only several roughly woven large leaves barely covered his vital areas.

In truth, this man was Garen, our protagonist.

He had been stranded in the wilderness for an entire day and night.

With zero survival knowledge, he could not determine direction, could not find a way out, had found neither water nor edible plants, and had not even encountered a single wild animal.

Tormented by hunger and thirst, Garen could only wander through the jungle like a headless fly.

"Water... water?"

Garen heard the sound of clear spring water, and a trace of life finally burst into his vacant eyes.

He suddenly quickened his pace. Ignoring the pain in his feet, he stepped over gravel and charged toward the sound of water.

At last, he saw that pool of crystal-clear stream water.

Without hesitation, he dropped to his knees beside the stream, sprawled himself down without a shred of dignity, and gulped the sweet water into his long-parched throat like an ox.

The sound of gulping continued for a long time before he finally raised his head in satisfaction and wiped his mouth with gusto.

The stream gradually returned to calm, its water gathering once more into a pure mirror-like surface.

"This..."

Garen stared blankly at the face reflected on the water, a familiar yet unfamiliar face:

"So it really is Garen?"

After waking up, Garen had discovered that his body had changed drastically.

But only now did he confirm exactly whom he had become.

"From now on..."

Garen flexed his powerful, knotted arm and looked again at that handsome face reflected in the water.

"Am I Garen now?"

His Chinese name had instantly changed into an English one, and even the pronunciation was different.

"Wait."

Garen suddenly clenched his fists and vented his indignation aloud:

"If I've been reborn as Garen, where are my armor and Greatsword?!!"

Using leaves to cover himself and carrying a wooden stick as a Greatsword, Garen was so angry that his vision swam.

"Also, wasn't Garen supposed to be some noble grand general?"

He looked at the godforsaken forest before him and complained through gritted teeth:

"Where's my top-tier transmigration package?"

"My castle, maids, henchmen, and decadent feudal aristocrat life?"

"And my high-status imperial fourth-generation buddy, my pretty and adorable magical-girl little sister..."

Sigh.

After lamenting for a long while, Garen finally returned to cruel reality.

The surroundings were so quiet they were nearly dead silent, making Garen, alone and stranded in the wilderness, suddenly feel rather lonely:

I wonder how my family is doing... and Young Man A, my good buddy from our duo queue.

He would probably never see those people again.

Wait.

Garen suddenly thought of something else:

I chose Garen, then transmigrated into Garen.

If my buddy Young Man A transmigrated because of that too, wouldn't he become a frog?

Hahaha!

If that idiot really turned into River King Tahm, would he have to go find a female frog to mate with in the future?

Hahaha, frog—

Garen could not help laughing out loud.

Garen suddenly felt fortunate:

Among all those bizarre League champions, he had chosen a normal human champion who barely shared his name—and one who was the tough, handsome man he had always dreamed of becoming.

Then he thought of his tall, powerful body and those gleaming, muscular pecs.

The bet he had made with the gym in his previous life had finally paid off here.

Thinking about it that way, his current predicament of having neither food nor clothes did not seem so terrible.

Grrr—

His stomach, empty for an entire day, rumbled like thunder.

Garen's smile of surviving a disaster abruptly froze.

He was hungry now. Extremely hungry.

This powerful body possessed strength Garen could never have imagined in his previous life.

Whether in strength, speed, or endurance, it far surpassed the Olympic champions he remembered. It was undoubtedly a superhuman body.

But this body also got hungry very easily.

After only one day without food, Garen realized he was hungry enough to want even a Snickers.

Yet Garen had wandered through the jungle for a full day and night without finding anything edible. He could not even find a living fish in the stream before him.

"Sigh..."

Garen could only bend down again and take a few more gulps of stream water to fill his empty stomach.

Garen stood up, leaned on his defensive wooden stick, and walked deeper into the forest, finally plunging headfirst into a patch of tall grass beneath the trees.

The grass grew incredibly densely and tall. Even Garen's nearly two-meter height was not enough for his head to rise above it.

So I really did transmigrate to another world.

What forest on Earth had grass this tall? Even reeds, aquatic plants, were not as tall as this grass.

Buried entirely in the grass, Garen thought this while images of countless delicacies from his homeland kept flashing through his mind.

I want meat so badly.

Cured meat, smoked meat, braised pork, twice-cooked pork, boiled pork, sweet-and-sour pork, stir-fried pork, moo shu pork, ham, steamed pork with rice flour, char siu, crispy pork, Lijhuang sliced pork.

So what was so good about transmigrating to another world?

In this multiverse, was there any world that could prepare meat in as many ways as his homeland?

Thinking about it only made Garen hungrier.

"Woof, woof."

The sound of a living creature?

Garen's eyes instantly sharpened, and he raised the thick wooden stick in his hand.

The meat dishes he had just imagined instantly took physical form in his mind, transforming into ultimate strength that gathered entirely in the wooden stick in Garen's hands.

"Woof, woof, woof!"

The sound became clearer, and its owner was obviously much closer.

A dog?

Garen froze, and the strength in his hands loosened with it.

He had never eaten dog meat.

He was not one of those extreme dog lovers who robbed people on the road in the name of love, and he respected other people's preferences and customs.

But Garen, who had owned a dog in his previous life, would absolutely never try eating dog meat himself.

"Woof, woof, woof, woof."

The sound drew closer and closer.

"Sigh..."

Garen instinctively gripped the wooden stick again, his heart tangled with conflict.

No!

Dogs are so cute. How could I eat dogs?

Garen firmly strengthened his conviction.

Grrr—

His stomach growled even louder.

No!

Even if I, Garen, starve to death, die out here, or jump into the stream, I won't eat a single bite of dog meat!

Grrr—

"Woof, woof, woof, woof."

Grrr—

Garen shoved aside the grass and leaped out.

The wooden stick in his hand was raised high, slicing fiercely through the layers of air.

"Demacia!"