"Did I die in my sleep? What really happened? Did I get transmigrated into another world? Whose body is this?" Quinn muttered to himself, trying to make sense of the absolute mess his life had become, this is really too hard to swallow...

Questions kept piling up in his head like a rising tide, but not a single answer came back, it was literally empty...

The ball shaped being spoke again, its voice grating on Quinn’s nerves.

It was infuriating to be mocked while he was still reeling from the confusion of his new reality...

"The sounds you hear above... that’s the battle between the slaves. They fight for their lives up there, and you’ll be fighting again tomorrow. They said you died after your last match, but I guess that was fake... hahaha!" The laughter was so loud it echoed through the cramped, shitty room.

"Where are we...?" Quinn questioned again, desperate to know what kind of hellhole he had been dropped into.

"Well, I can’t answer that for you, rat... but one thing is for certain, you either live or you die...Hahaha!" The ball shaped being turned and walked away, his footsteps fading into the thick darkness of the corridor.

Quinn could only watch the being’s retreating back.

He had expected a beating, similar to the tropes he had read in countless novels, but the being actually left without laying a finger on him.

Maybe it was a sudden whim, or maybe the being, dont want to waste the effort on Quinn’s currently pitiful appearance.

Leaning his battered body against the cold, wet stone wall, Quinn closed his eyes.

He forced himself to concentrate, trying to sift through the fog in his brain to recall the life of the boy he had supposedly replaced.

***

10 minutes passed as he searched through the fragmented memories.

"Hah... he can’t really remember anything except being imprisoned here."

The kid’s name was also Quinn...a coincidence that felt almost too shit. 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

But the similarities ended with the name. This boy was only six feet tall with a skinny, pitiful build.

His memories were shards, flashes of being caught and sold into slavery, followed by days spent fighting just to see the next sunrise.

His luck had finally run out against a massive, armored boar. He had managed to kill the beast, but at a fatal cost.

He had crawled back to this cage and died a slow, agonizing death from the horrific gashes in his chest.

And that was how Quinn Cole had ended up in this nightmare.

He began to inspect his new body and face.

He was skinnier than his previous self, but he still looked decent for a nineteen-year-old.

Then Quinn gaze shifted downward, his priorities instinctively moving toward the one thing that truly mattered to him.

"Hmm... what about my cock? Is it still big?" he asked himself, with a serious tone...

He reached down to check

"Ohh!!! This guy’s cock is actually good!" Quinn exclaimed, a wave of genuine satisfaction hitting him.

Even in this skinny frame, he was packing 10 inches! It was the exact same size as the monstrous dick he had possessed before he transmigrated.

A true monster that could destroy any living thing at any moment!!

"But where is my OP system? Every main character in the novels I’ve read gets a system! Where’s mine?" Quinn mumbled, looking left and right at the empty, shadowed corners of the cell.

Well, reading some novels is one of his hobby back then...so Quinn knows the cliche systems of every MC who got transmigrated in another world...

He realized then that he felt... fine. The physical injuries and the brutal wounds this body had sustained were gone.

It was magical. He knew how bad those gashes had been...literal holes in the kid’s torso, but they had vanished completely...it feels like it was healed by some kind of magic

He was still recovering his full strength, but the damage was gone.

"I guess I should explore this place first. Maybe I can understand this world better," Quinn said, pushing himself up from the floor.

A heavy metal slave ring was locked around his neck, but the cuffs on his legs had been released.

He figured they let him move around so he could actually put on a decent show tomorrow, the masters clearly didn’t want their entertainment to die like a dog without putting up a fight...

He accepted the reality then. This wasn’t a dream. There was no point dwelling on the how...even if he asked, no one was going to provide answer anyway...

He had to look on the bright side, this was a fantasy world, and he had been given a second chance!

Plus, he still had his massive cock. If he could escape this shithole, he planned to find some heavenly MILFs and pick up exactly where he had left off!!

Quinn walked to the door of his quarters and pushed it open. The view outside was grim.

It was a long, oppressive hallway of thick-walled rooms, each with a number indicated on the stone.

"Those must be other slaves. They really love this game, don’t they?" He could hear loud, noisy grunts coming from the other rooms.

Some sounded like they were training, while others sounded like they were finally succumbing to the darkness.

He didn’t care about them. His priority was the weaponry. He needed to test some steel.

The previous owner’s sword had been shattered trying to cut the tough hide of that armored boar.

Even if the weapons provided were low-quality garbage, they were better than fighting with bare hands, that’s reality...

Quinn walked for at least twenty minutes through the dark halls. The sheer number of rooms was staggering.

Finally, he saw a sign with a weapon symbol carved into the stone.

"That must be it..." he whispered.

He approached the door and reached for the handle, but he paused for a split second.

Ting!!!