Opening a new life, of course

In a daze, Tian Sang felt as if he'd had a very long dream. Its events had been absurd, yet so real.

"Is it time to get up?" Tian Sang relived every detail of the dream, drowsily feeling the sunlight streaming in through the window and landing on the corner of his eye. He couldn't help reaching up with his right hand to touch his face, but the moment he spoke, he froze. There was something in his mouth.

Tian Sang moved his lips and sat up in surprise. His gaze lowered past his blue-gray, hooked nose. Beneath it, tusks protruded from either corner of his mouth, curving slightly downward like ivory and stained yellow.

"Ah!" Tian Sang stared at the tusks and parted his lips slightly. Was this real?

He thought to himself that he should touch the tusks in his mouth to see if they were real. But before he could, he froze, captivated by his own hands. His palms were smaller, and each finger was as thick as a carrot. He tried curling them. They were nimble and strong, but he really did have only three fingers on each hand.

"I'm still dreaming. That's right, I'm still dreaming." Tian Sang looked at his hands, then rolled his eyes, touched the black, coarse hair on his head and the tusks at the corners of his mouth, and fell back onto the stone bed. He squeezed his eyes shut. This was a dream.

"I'm still dreaming. Yes, it's a dream. Once I wake up, everything will be fine." Tian Sang muttered like a madman, forcing his eyes shut and stretching his body out into a starfish shape. But his neck, knees, and muscles felt uncomfortable, making him want to curl up involuntarily.

Ignoring his discomfort, Tian Sang forced himself to lie spread-eagled and tried to hypnotize himself. But whenever he closed his eyes, the unfamiliar yet familiar memories came surging in like a tide, making him want to open them again. He held back with all his might. This was a dream. No mistake about it. He just hadn't woken up yet.

In the dream, Tian Sang knew he wasn't called Tian Sang. His name was Zul'ra, and he was an Amani'lai, a word in another world's language meaning "child of the Amani." The Amani were a people who lived in the forests around the ancient city of Zul'Aman in the north of Azeroth. Outsiders called them Trolls, or Forest Trolls.

Tian Sang—or the Troll Zul'ra—was the apprentice and adopted son of Kal'ma, a priest and old Troll Witch Doctor. He was a very young Troll Witch Doctor himself.

"Fuck, what does this mean? Why do other people transmigrate as High Elves, Blood Elves, or, at worst, humans, while I have to become a Troll?" As the memories kept flooding into his mind, strange yet familiar, Tian Sang couldn't help sitting bolt upright again.

Transmigration was hard to accept in the first place, but after years as a wage slave, Tian Sang could just about manage it. He hadn't even had time to get emotional yet. What he couldn't accept was that he'd become a Troll—one of the Forest Trolls of Azeroth, no less.

He wasn't a player of that lore-heavy online game, but as a wage slave, he was familiar with World of Warcraft, which inspired so many fanfics. He knew about the Alliance dogs and Horde pigs, the Burning Legion, and even the Arena where the girls wore nothing but hooves. Don't ask him to elaborate.

But the more he knew, the harder it was for Tian Sang to accept his identity. Trolls—what kind of people were they? A primitive, savage race of cannibals living in the forests. They also had a long history of enmity with the gorgeous High Elves and Blood Elves. And most importantly...

"It's not fair." Tian Sang found a basin of clear water in the stone chamber and looked at his reflection. His skin was blue-gray, and the lack of eyebrows gave his face a naturally gloomy expression. He had huge tusks, a hooked nose, short, pointed ears, and a pair of bright green eyes. Tian Sang felt like crying and couldn't bear to keep looking. This didn't fit his aesthetic at all.

Not only did his blue-and-green features fail to meet his standards of beauty, but Trolls had a different body structure from humans. They had three fingers and two toes, and two huge upper tusks that protruded from their lips like those of an elephant or a wild boar. They were also hunched over.

When other people transmigrated to World of Warcraft, their looks were the bare minimum of handsome. They either got an unreasonable cheat ability, transmigrated into a prominent family, knew every detail of the story, or even had a resurrection mechanic. They all got to watch the Burning Legion crumble with a laugh. But when it was his turn...

"System fairy, are you there?"

"Cheat ability, hello?"

"Do I have any special powers?" Tian Sang straightened up, feeling the strength of a body several times stronger than the one he'd had as a wage slave, then slumped again in dejection.

"What am I supposed to do?" Tian Sang crouched on the ground and let his shoulders relax, easing some of his discomfort. His face was bitter. When he'd read novels, reviewers of several fanfics had agreed that, since Azeroth was a fictional world based on an online game, anyone who transmigrated there without a cheat ability would have a terrifyingly hard time surviving. And the world itself seemed to be on the brink of disaster.

Sargeras, Archimonde, and Kil'jaeden of the Burning Legion; the unseen Void Lords; and the Old Gods imprisoned in various places—just thinking about them gave Tian Sang a massive headache. And beyond all that, Azeroth had countless factions and racial vendettas, especially when it came to Trolls.

If Tian Sang remembered correctly, Forest Trolls were a race everyone hated. Of all the Trolls, only the Darkspear Trolls had joined the Horde. Every other Troll tribe served as bosses in daily quests and dungeons, the sort of enemies that players farmed over and over again. What was that saying in fanfics? Eat, sleep, kill Trolls.

"Damn it." Just thinking about the bosses in the online game, killed again and again by players who looted their gear and gold, made Tian Sang shiver. He didn't know whether there were players in this world, but he absolutely refused to end up like that.

"Forest Trolls? Damn it, what point in the Warcraft story is this? What should I do?" Tian Sang's mind suddenly felt like a mess. He couldn't immediately recall the Warcraft story in his frantic state.

"I have to combine them. Combine them—the memories of Zul'ra." Tian Sang took two deep breaths, trying to settle his chaotic thoughts. He cleared his mind, then began recalling Zul'ra's memories. Compared with his own hazy memories of Earth, which he couldn't bring to mind in a hurry, Zul'ra's memories were crystal clear.

He remembered every word his mentor Kal'ma had taught him, along with every voodoo potion. He thought he might remember them even more clearly than Zul'ra did. But what exactly was the relationship between him and Zul'ra? Was it Zhuang Zhou dreaming of a butterfly, or a butterfly dreaming of Zhuang Zhou?

"Forget it. I'll focus on getting stronger first. No matter what, strength is fundamental..." Tian Sang had no answer yet about his relationship with the young Troll Witch Doctor. He could only set the question aside and carefully review the important voodoo knowledge in his memories. This world was filled with bloodshed and slaughter, and he'd been thrust into it without a choice. All he could do was strengthen himself and try to survive.