Last man on earth when there is no earth?

Chapter 03: I want to know your name.

What little memories I had told me I never was the kind of guy who did his business in the woods on a regular basis. It was a truly novel experience, though something told me it would have felt entirely different if we were back on Earth.

Finally done, I covered the abomination I spawned with some dirt then washed my hands. The sanitizer mixed in the water stung a little, showing that it was much stronger than I had expected.

When I returned to the camp, I saw that Ms. Alien was preparing to go out. She said the morning was the time she used to gather fruits since the most dangerous beasts were still asleep.

When I asked why she doesn’t store some instead of gathering them every day, she explained that she only does that when making the rations.

Apparently, despite being uncharted, Gorgola housed animals and vegetation that could be found on other planets in the same star cluster. One theory is that most of them were brought there during the attempts to study the planet, which ended up in failure before they could even start.

I was reluctant to stay behind so I offered to help her with the task. She shut me down right away, saying I would only get in the way. Though it did hurt to hear, I found myself agreeing with her.

Ms. Alien left after warning me to not leave the camp. Not that I needed her to tell me. Even with the call to adventure blasting in my ears, I was smart enough to know that wandering into a forest on an alien planet was a truly bad idea.

Who knows what freaky space beasts roam these woods?

Left all alone, I found myself realizing there wasn't much for me to do around the camp. I remained outside, afraid of what Ms. Alien would do if she found out I was messing with her stuff.

Observing the giant Polala trees grew dull after a couple of minutes. As I sat on the log near the bonfire, which was put out before we went to sleep the previous night, the idea of testing the limits of my new body occurred to me.

The exhaustion I felt from the three thousand pushups I did earlier was gone without a trace. Saving my judgment for later, I tried Sitama's workout, starting with a hundred pushups, following it with a hundred situps and squats, then running a few dozen loops around the camp.

For the first time in my two lives, I finally understood the meatheads who bother with such torture every day.

It’s perfect, but... something feels off...

The odd feeling kept clawing at the back of my mind the entire time I was practicing. Deciding to take a break, I sat near the ship and leaned my back against its scratched exterior.

One thing was clear; whoever owned this body before me definitely put a lot of effort into building it into its current shape. I could only thank them in my heart for having prepared such a superb vessel for me to transmigrate into.

I was even starting to feel bad about all the time I wasted gaming and watching anime. If I had put more effort into toning my body then maybe I wouldn't have had to suffer through that damned school.

I wonder what happened to the previous owner. The thought crossed my mind as I watched my bulging muscles. If I had access to his memories then maybe...

The underground structure Ms. Alien found me in was quite peculiar. From the looks of it, the previous owner of this body was the last survivor of whatever was happening in that place.

I found myself believing that some secret operations were being carried out in that hidden location and the fact that it was under the surface of a supposedly uninhabited planet only strengthened my theory.

A secret was waiting to be discovered in that underground structure and I was already raring to go. I might even find a clue to the reason behind my transmigration.

I need to convince Ms. Alien to take me with her next time.

For that to happen I would first need to prove myself. Since I'm physically fit and capable of traveling long distances without a hitch, all I have to do is earn Ms. Alien's trust.

Building trust takes time and so does gaining affection points. Just thinking about how my relationship with the golden-haired beauty would turn out is enough to fill my body with excitement, but when I consider what needs to be done for that to happen, a faint ache gradually spreads through my stomach.

Of all the things that stayed with me...

For someone missing most of his memories, I'm neither panicked nor concerned about the situation. In fact, I find myself having to force my mind to think about it, almost as if I would forget about the topic the moment it takes its place in some corner of my mind.

Maybe I should just let it go...

I have this lingering sensation that I didn't like my previous life, and I certainly don't like the previous me. With a chance at a new life before me abandoning those things is without a doubt the right choice. That said, I find myself hesitating to let go of that identity.

Does it even matter? 

I'm in a new body on a planet millions of light years away from Earth, if there is even an Earth in this universe. I don't even know if I'm in the same timeline as my previous self. Since I have no intention of going back, is there a point in worrying about it?

I guess it's not that easy to let go of one's identity.

It probably would have been much easier if all my memories were missing.

I slowly breathe in the clear air and a light breeze passes by at the perfect time, as if it was waiting behind the corner for that moment to add some dramatic effect.

"Hm?"

Blown by the light breeze, a few strands of hair fall down on my face. I pull at them slightly and realize something that had escaped my attention until now.

was my hair always this long?

"It's... black?"

Just then I remembered that I had yet to get a look at my new face. I didn't see any mirrors inside the ship, but surely Ms. Alien has one stashed somewhere for when she has to take care of her appearance. Maybe she even uses one of her alien devices as a substitute.

Either way, I couldn't bring myself to ask her about it for some reason.

I went around the ship hoping the windshield could provide me with a good reflection. For a shipwreck, the scene painted here is quite impressive. All the dirt and dust that accumulated, the crater created by the impact, the scratches on the metallic surface. It was like a masterfully rendered scene from a high-budget movie or a game.

It must've been a really great ship

The way Ms. Alien spoke of it made it seem as if it wasn't much to speak of, but when I think about how it survived a crash from outer space I can't help but be amazed.

The more I look at it the more I feel that there is something strange going on. Last night I found myself noticing the well-organized interior, which made me think it was strange for something that fell from the sky.

Now that I'm getting another look at it, I'm starting to realize that it wasn't the tidiness that seemed out of place but the contrast between the interior and the exterior.

On the outside, the ship appeared to have gone through a lot. On the inside, however, it appeared like it was brand new, lacking even the tiniest of scratches.

The windshield, in particular, appeared quite odd. With how the ship was positioned there was no doubt that it fell face first, yet despite that the windshield barely had a scratch on it.

Did they use some ultra-high-quality materials for that part alone?

It was an alien spaceship, after all. I could easily imagine them creating some impossibly durable material that's somehow see-through as well. It was covered in dust though so I would have to clean it first before I'm able to get a look at my reflection.

I took what water was left in the container Ms. Alien gave me before and splashed it on the front glass. The dirt and dust were cleaned in an instant and I got the pseudo mirror every man on an uncivilized planet needs.

Stepping back, I took a deep breath and opened my eyes.

... what?

I wasn't expecting much, believing that anything even slightly better than my old face was all I needed. The toned body I got made it difficult to complain. I never once doubted that it belonged to someone else.

Because of that, it came as a devastating shock when I was met with my own face.

It was the same face I had seen thousands, maybe millions of times before. The same eyes, same eyebrows, same nose, same mouth. Everything was the same. My hair was long but it was still the jet-black color I know, and I have a… beard?

“Oookkaaayy….”

Just hold on a goddamn second… What the fuck is going on here?

Everything. Except for the thin beard and long hair, everything was the same as what I saw every day while brushing my teeth, when I washed my hands, or when I lamented the depressing state I was in.

Stepping away from the windshield, I took another look at myself. The body was different but the face is still the same.

“… I... I need to shave this...”

I will know for sure when there is a lot less hair, but I don’t really need any more confirmation. This is the face I had all along, which means I didn’t really die or get transmigrated.

No, there is more than one way to interpret this. Just because I have the same face doesn’t mean I survived a hole through the stomach.

But... what if I did? First, I need to… huh? I’m… calm?…. huh?

Something isn’t right. How am I not panicking after this? Why do I still have the same face? Does this mean it’s the same body? Why can’t I remember my name if I’m able to recognize my own face?

Even though I asked myself those questions again and again, I couldn’t find any answers, nor did I feel anything from not being able to. I felt... indifferent, almost as if I don’t care.

Ah, I get it now...

I only asked myself those questions because it was the logical thing to do. Same thing for shock after seeing my face. It’s a bit regrettable that I didn’t get a new, more handsome one, but there was no reason for me to panic over it.

Having amnesia didn’t do much to my personality, which is the most regrettable part about this. I’m not a completely different individual, but I can still start my life from scratch.

I just need to put in more effort this time.