As Qaton left to attend other duties, I was left alone with the corpse. I looked into its dark, unmoving eyes and felt a chill rush down my spine. Until now, I have had the privilege of being relatively sheltered, having been assigned to more managerial roles on Earth. But in this world, I had no such luxury.

“Is this the price of failure?” I thought as dark clouds began to cloud my mind.

Fortunately, my brooding was cut short by the shrill whine of the door opening. A relatively pale man with brown, curly hair and dark eyes beckoned me to exit through the door.

Feeling that it wasn’t the best idea to stay in that room, I went out the door leading outside. Based on the fact that Qaton and Darat hadn’t told me anything about where to go, I assumed that I had implicit permission to roam the compound. With this in mind, I spent the rest of the day exploring their base of operations.

The warehouse I was residing in, as it turns out, contained around half the area of the entire facility. The remaining space was used as living spaces for some of the members and there also was a meeting room with around twenty seats arranged in a circle which seemed recently used.

After seeing enough for one day, I retreated back to the storeroom.

While walking back, my memory of the corpse made me wonder,

What would happen if I remain as powerless as I am?

Would I end up like that man?

Will I meet my end by the Zi like him?

No.

That will not happen to me.

I can’t allow that.

That’s when I realized that there is only one thing that could help me.

Power.

Without it, any attempt to make an impact on this world would be meaningless.

Political power is out of the question for now, I can’t communicate well enough to have it.

I don’t have the build necessary to brute strength my way through problems.

But, economic power?

That might be my only option.

The next morning…

During the next day, Qaton came over to the warehouse to teach me more about his language. He seemed a bit overly invested in my progress ever since I was brought here. Not just that, ever since he took me here, I’ve been treated with nothing but kindness and patience.

I refuse to believe that pure intentions are the only reason as to why he’s been helping me.

“Why would he go out of his way for me, a stranger?” I asked myself.

I didn’t know the answer to this question.

It was unsettling.

But while I suspected he had an ulterior motive for doing so, I knew that if I wanted to survive in this world, I needed his tutelage. Even if he had malicious intentions, his actions so far have been nothing but benevolent. I’m forced to give him the benefit of the doubt, at any rate.

As they say, it’s no good to “bite the hand that feeds you”.

But before he continued educating me, he asked me a question which seemed surprising but inevitable.

He pointed at himself and said “Qaton”, his name.

Then he pointed at me with an unreadable expression.

“He’s asking for my name.” I thought.

Come to think of it, I didn’t give him one.

“Hamet.” I replied.

Any other name would sound too foreign and bizarre to the people of this world.

Hamet is a reasonable enough name. It's what people have already been calling me, so there’s not much change that needs to be done.

“Hamet?” he questioned.

“Hamet.” I confirmed with a definitive tone.

No matter what it meant, I would make it my own.

He shrugged and repeated “Hamet, with a slight nod. As if sealing the name that I had chosen.

And so began the new lesson, with the name I had chosen “Hamet”

The whole lesson itself was instructive.

He somehow managed to teach me basic greetings, basic colors and so on…

I essentially now had the conversational skills of a one-year old.

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Though it wasn’t much, even I was surprised by how fast I remembered everything he taught me. You really do learn faster when your life depends on it.

Even Qaton seemed mildly surprised at my speed. He was somewhat taken aback whenever I was able to pick up on words relatively quickly.

After we finished, he took out a new pile of scrolls that I needed to work on, probably more financial records that I needed to compile.

When he left, I got to doing the work. But while I did so, I thought

“What can I offer this world that they don’t already have?”.

After familiarizing myself with the village, I concluded that either this world’s technology is very outdated or this town is exceptionally rural. Thinking about my experiences so far, everything I’ve seen points to a world with fourteenth century level technology. The architecture, the lighting, the cuisine all point to this exact same deduction.

So, I thought if I brought advanced technology from my earth, it could be extremely successful here. The only problem is that it has to be within my knowledge, and commercially viable in this world.

I recalled the time with my group back on Earth for inspiration. I always use the term “group” to refer to us, but this doesn’t fully describe our full nature. For the lack of a better term, they were revolutionaries.

Insurrectionists, rebels, terrorists. The government had many names for us but I knew that we were in the right. Our aim was to replace the current regime, repeal their laws by implementing new ones that would help the people.

Unfortunately, this called for violence.

The higher-ups of the revolutionaries subscribed to the view that the end justifies the means. This meant that most members including myself were taught how to work with substances like sulfur and gunpowder in order to help us succeed against the regime.

I wondered how I could use that knowledge to benefit me in the present.

Gunpowder?

I considered trying to synthesize gunpowder in this world but I quickly gave up on that idea.

It’s not very viable, I need so much gunpowder just for one explosion.

What would I even use it for?

I don’t think firearms would even leave a scratch on the armor of the Zi.

Maybe something less violent would be better. Who knows what trouble I would get into if I were discovered to be the creator of such a deadly thing.

As I was deep in thought, my eyes wandered around the room. They eventually landed on the papyrus sheets that I used to write the group’s reports which gave me an idea.

Paper? A printing press?

Unfortunately after wracking my brain for a method on how to produce plant paper, I recalled nothing about its process so I discarded that idea. I also eliminated the idea of creating a printing press after realizing that most uneducated people couldn't read, meaning little to no demand, and I wasn’t about to start some literacy campaign to change that.

My eyes wandered yet again, waiting for a stroke of ingenuity that had yet to come. I looked at the torches that adorned the room with light, they flickered with orange flames that gave me a spark of inspiration.

Maybe an easier way to light up these torches and create fire would be commercially successful.

Matches?

Now that’s an idea.

From what I remember, the materials for making matches aren't too distinct from gunpowder which I already knew plenty about. But matches had way more utility to the average person that gunpowder ever would.

As a plan began forming in my mind, I realized that I needed something very important first.

Capital.

To start a business, one needs capital to start producing goods and paying expenses like rent, wages among other things.

I think it’s a bit too obvious who I want to borrow the capital from.

Qaton.

So far, I’ve relied on him for everything, my knowledge, my safety—everything.

I don’t think that’s a good thing.

Now where is his partner?

An hour later, outside the warehouse…

I finally found Qaton’s partner, Darat. The big man himself.

He was a bit hard to find, but saying his name and asking for him led me right to him.

Darat was talking with the same pale man from earlier, he was there when I was shown the corpse of one of their members.

As he finished his conversation and began to leave, I called his name, “Darat”.

Confused, he looked around until he locked his eyes on me.

Using the terms that Qaton had taught me, I managed to blurt out “need…. money.”

Perplexed as to why I would need it, his words and expression probably meant something like “Why?”.

Struggling to remember even basic vocabulary, I responded “make…more… give… you…”

He looked dubious of my claim, which is to be expected from someone with zero track record. But I was certain that I would find success.

To finally convince him, I needed to use my advantage.

“Trust…Qaton”

For some reason, Qaton seemed to have a lot of faith in me. He trusted that I didn’t mean any harm, trusted that I was not a threat and trusted that I could help him. I was asking Darat to trust in Qaton’s judgment and by extension, trust my competence.

Darat furrowed his brow and began to think for a few seconds. He really seemed to put value in Qaton’s opinion because most of the skepticism that he had was replaced with a look of careful consideration.

He seemed ready to hear my proposal.

After muddling my way through an explanation, I eventually relayed to him that I knew a way to easily start fires without a torch or any other external tool.

He seemed skeptical of the idea at first, but when he remembered what Qaton thought he decided to believe me.

I managed to ask him where to find the materials which I told him I needed, he mentioned the name “Shur” at one point in his reply.

This “Shur” figure seemed like someone who could help me find the resources necessary to start producing as quickly as possible.

I asked him, “Where… Shur?”

He sighed and beckoned for me to follow him, and as I did I followed him as he exited a door that led out of the compound.

This was the first time I had left the compound since Qaton took me here. As I looked around at the buildings and people, my belief that this world was currently in the middle ages in terms of technology was reaffirmed.

Darat seemed to know it like the back of his hand, as he knew exactly where to go to meet with this Shur person. As I struggled to keep up with him, I thought of a potential problem with me going outside.

“Zi?” I asked Darat, wondering whether they would try to catch me again if they ever saw me.

But he shook his head, alleviating my fear. If Darat said so, then I was probably safe from them for now. Though there must be some reason why they weren’t here, otherwise they would just be freely roaming the streets like last time.

After passing many shops and homes, we finally stepped foot inside one of them. The large cube of sandstone where we were currently seemed to be some sort of general store, because instead of selling one specific thing, they were selling some small foodstuffs as well as other different goods like candles, fabrics and threads.

A tall man with ebony skin spoke to Darat from behind the counter, he seemed confused as to why Darat and I were here but Darat quickly gave him an explanation that left him satisfied.

When he finished talking with Darat, he turned his eyes toward me. He introduced himself as “Shur” as he pointed towards himself. Darat probably must have told him that I’m not fluent in their language. Copying his gesture, I pointed to myself in turn and said “Hamet”.

Content with the fact that we had been acquainted, Darat started going for the door. But not before he placed a golden coin into my hand, and gestured for me to keep it safe. When he left, my attention was once again caught by the tall man who was staring at me.

The more I looked at his eyes, the more I realized that his attention wasn’t on me but rather my odd looking clothes.

Trying to draw his attention, I said to him “Shur… help… me” as fluently as I could.

His gaze lifted from my clothes and transferred to my face, showing me I had his undivided attention.

As I gestured the number two with my hand, I managed to convey the fact that I needed four components at the moment.

Firstly, I needed a yellow, odorous substance.

Secondly, I needed excrement, preferably from a horse.

Thirdly, I needed charcoal.

Finally, I needed small wooden sticks about the length of my palm.

I also needed a wheelbarrow and a shovel.

It took quite a while to relay these instructions to him while having a poor grasp of the language. While the materials that I needed surprised him, he was confident that he could acquire them nevertheless.

He held out his hand, expecting some sort of payment in return for his services. I gave him the gold coin that Darat entrusted me with, and it seemed to be enough for him.

After our transaction was finished, I still needed one thing to be able to produce matches.

Land.

More specifically, I need somewhere where I could decompose the manure and synthesize the chemicals needed for the matches.

Thankfully I remembered the way back to the warehouse, otherwise I would be lost if I tried to go back there. Once I finally arrived back there, I asked Darat if there was a place I could use that wasn’t currently occupied.

He thought for a moment, but then thought of an idea.

Darat led me to a house with a small yard not far from the compound, on the outskirts of the town. It seemed newly abandoned and ransacked, but it was the perfect place to start manufacturing matches.

I managed to ask Darat if he could tell Shur to bring the materials here.

He agreed and left me to my own devices as I went inside the house. Inside I saw a mess of furniture cluttered around the floor as if someone was desperately searching for something that they had lost. I spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning the house, finding a few desks and chairs that I could use as a workstation.

“It’s almost there.” I thought.

Just a bit more effort and it will be well worth it in the end.