Ol' Jimmy was a farmer.

Ol' Jimmy Mcdonald. A common last name amongst farmers, seemingly propagated by a famous hero in the past, as part of an old nursery rhyme, featuring old Mcdonald. And now it was a commonplace last name for farmers, as if to suggest a kinship, like how nobles used last names to denote their kinship.

Ol' Jimmy didn't really overthink it.

In fact, he rarely overthought anything.

So death was just that. Death. 25 and crushed to death by a passing monster. It probably didn't even notice him, much like Jimmy didn't notice it.

That was fine.

He barely felt it.

Ol' Jimmy rarely overthought anything.

But when he was reborn as a sheep's parasite, he might've overthought it a little.

However, was it really overthinking, if there was a lot of thinking to be considered when involving reincarnation?

No, there's plenty of thinking necessary. In that case, Ol' Jimmy was thinking just right.

'Oh lord! Oh sweet mistress of harvest! Why me!? Why a parasite?!'

Jimmy got it out of his system fast enough. Never let a bur stay in his coat too long, that Jimmy.

He gave me a call, and I showed him his stats.

I'm his system, by the way. Pleasure to meet you.

Well, he gave me a call. I suppose it'd be more accurate to say:

'Who did this to me!'

[Howdy.]

And that was how I met Ol' Jimmy, that fine fellow.

'Who are you?' He asked me in a horrified voice.

Did he think I was God or something? Silly Jimmy.

No need to overthink.

[Nah, your guide.]

'Oh'. Yeah, Jimmy calmed down reeeeaaaal quickly after that.

Laid back fella, I tell you that much.

it surprises me, given he's a woolymander.

What's a woolymander?

Y'see, they're like ticks.

Really big, fluffy, cute bastards they are.

Were it not for them nasty old fangs o theirs.

Real nasty things, like them cookie cutter sharks have, but hidden underneath all that wool.

They're some rather nasty pieces of work, parasitizing off the sheep they hatch on.

Like a baby on a mama's teet, if that teet was the hole them sheep fakers make with them mouth over there.

They feed on a sheep's flesh, kind of like a vampire, but fluffy, until that sheep dies and them old parasite finds them a new teet to feed on.

But Ol' Jimmy was a farmer. He didn't want to cause no harm to his fellow man, another farmer in arms.

Kinda rude of that there Goddess of harvest to do that to such a good fellow; but who knows. Maybe that goddess got a plan or something, I'm just a simple old guide assigned to a simple old farmer and happens to run a virtual farm in his spare time.

A bit redundant? Perhaps, but that's my choice.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Jimmy, bless that young man's heart took it upon himself to defy the stereotype, instead feeding on grubs and bigger prey, like the occasional frog or two.

Little known fact: we guides are generally omniscient, and can see pretty much everything in the nearby area.

I say this to say that he was caught pretty quickly by the farmer.

When a woolymander takes it upon itself to intentionally climb off a lamb and feed on grub, they stand out worse than a blade of grass in a sidewalk.

Woolymanders are basically black salamanders wrapped in wooly fluff and easily the size of a small cat, so wandering on the floor exposed him rather quickly.

Thankfully, his quirky actions caused the farmer to hold his blade, so I felt no need to comment.

His poor thinking saved his life.

From that day forward, Ol' Jimmy took it upon himself to start hunting down the critters that used to bother him as a young centaur, though the lack of his upper body continued to confuse him.

Jimmy used to be a centaur, which meant he was better suited to rounding the sheep himself once upon a time, and even now, it helped him orient himself.

It also meant that Jimmy galloped like a horse, and if he didn't stand out like a sore thumb before, then now he stood out worse than a snail in a group of slugs.

I thought poor Jimmy was done for.

On the contrary, fate seemed to have other plans for Jimmy.

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"Don't think I've ever seen a woolymander gallop before." Muttered Tawny as his friend Don sat down, a rum in hand.

"Well I'll be a monkey's uncle." commented the farmer as he watched the woolymander gallop, warding off the encroaching goblins.

Ben chuckled as he heard his reaction. "It is weird right?" he asked as he lounged on the front porch.

Ben had invited his pals over for a gander at the new sight that had greeted him for the last week.

And gander they did, for there was quite the sight.

A parasite, playing guardian.

Their eyes were practically jumping out of their sockets.

"What do you make of it?" Ben asked, watching as the woolymander thoughtfully chewed on the goblin's corpse.

Don shrugged. "Didn't you ask Demeter for a new guard dog?" he asked jokingly as Tawny rolled his eyes, before saying his part.

"I think it's dangerous. Not going to kill it?" he asked as he warily eyed the suspicious monster.

Only to watch in surprise as a sheep walked by, picking the critter up by the scruff of his neck, tossing it onto his back.

"It's unnatural." he muttered.

Don rubbed his beard thoughtfully. "Isn't that more your choice Ben?" he said as he skillfully passed the bill onto Ben once more.

"I'm going to let it be, see how it plays out." he said casually.

"This could go wrong quickly." Tawny warned and Don agreed.

"Tawny might be an overthinking dumbass, but I've got to agree, this seems really suspicious. Could go wrong in so many ways." Don grudgingly admitted.

"Well, you know my intuition?"

Nod

"My intuition says this could be a good thing."

Tawny and Don shared a look.

"I mean, his intuition is good..."

"I don't know." said Tawny as he pondered worryingly.

Ben rolled his eyes. "Look, if it does go wrong, as you're both so worried about, we can always call the constable." he said, assuring his two old friends.

Ben understood that his friends were only looking out for him, but Ben just felt it. That little spine tingle.

He felt that little woolymander could really change things up.

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Boompf!

An explosion of fluff blew out, blinding the orc as it swung its club blindly, squealing all the while it looked for the annoying foe who had been fending off it's herd of goblins.

Out of nowhere, a sharp pain ran through the orc's leg, causing it to collapse on one leg, the blood bleeding out of the leg, seeping into the ground.

A rock came flying out of nowhere, hitting the beast square in the eye, blinding it in one eye.

Squuueeel!

Jimothy threw another stone, using its tail to throw the stone, using his old skills as an archer to aim, and blind the large beast.

Circling the beast had been to his advantage.

Just as centaurs circled their foe to confuse them, he now used it in this explosion of his own wool to confuse the dumb beast.

This was his herd, and nothing touched it, not while he was here!

Deciding to finish it off, he lunged at the beast.

Wham!

Unfortunately for him, the orc swung wildly, hitting Jimothy firmly on the flank, sending him flying.

The beast turned, feeling the sensation of hitting something.

Even with its leg torn and eyes bleeding, the beast charged wildly, charging with the intent to kill.

Feeling the pain in his flank and his bones cracked, Jimothy rolled, barely dodging the first strike. He couldn't charge any more.

Desperately, he jumped onto the leg of the orc, climbing relentlessly as the orc tried to shake off the climbing critter.

Scratches littered the beast as the two struggled in a life and death situation, the woolymander attempted to strangle the orc, as the orc tried to tear the critter off.

One had to give and one did, as the orc breathed his last, before falling back and dying, fading from this world.

Jimothy struggled up, after defeating the orc, a surge of triumph rose through him.

Using his jaws, he ripped through the chest of the orc, finding a magic stone

Crunch

Breaking the stone into bits, Jimothy watched as a screen appeared before his very eyes, as he quickly scanned it, knowing he would soon pass out from exhaustion.

He limped, heading towards the herd, finally tapping his choice, before collapsing, failing to reach the herd before he fainted.

As he passed out, his body underwent changes.

His claws increased in size, and his tail thickened, splitting off at the end into two different prehensile tips.

The tongue split off just the same, becoming a forked tongue.

The body grew in size, as his size approached that of a newly born sheep.

No longer was his mouth round like that of a salamander, but more akin to a muzzle, the small mandibles replaced with sharp canines.

And above all else, two nubs began to pop out of his head.

[Congratulations!]

[Proceeding to evolution: Ramodo guardian(hatchling)