Adventurer of Many Professions

Chapter 1 - 1: Transmigration!

"Ouch! My head… it feels like it's splitting open!"

Raymond groaned, clutching his throbbing skull. His voice was thick with confusion. "Did I... drink last night?"

Half-awake, he pressed his hands to his temples to ease the ache, but instead of bare skin, he felt rough fabric wrapped tightly around his head. Startled, his eyes flew open, and he jolted upright.

"What the…? A bandage? Was I... beaten up?"

Tentatively, he ran his fingers over his scalp, and as he touched a particular spot, a sharp, searing pain shot through him, confirming his suspicions. His head pulsed with pain, but his heart raced with excitement instead of fear.

"Where's my phone? I need to check if my car's okay!" he mumbled, instinctively patting down the bed around him.

Raymond, like any modern man, always kept his phone close; especially with the camera handy for situations like this. But as he

"Raymond!"

He winced, instinctively stiffening. Looking up, he saw Mrs. Becker at the cashier counter, her gaze fixed on him like a hawk.

Mrs. Becker was a sight to behold, dressed in a flashy red leather coat, with fishnets stretching over her calves, and her face caked in heavy makeup. Her blonde hair was teased into tight, springy curls, framing her face in a way she probably thought looked glamorous. But her thick, muscular arms and the flesh spilling from her fishnets made the outfit less flattering and more intimidating.

Raymond glanced quickly and then averted his eyes, not daring to look again.

Mrs. Becker, however, wasn't about to let him slip away unnoticed. She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes, launching into her tirade. "When did you wake up? You should have come straight down! Do you have any idea how chaotic it's been without you in the kitchen? Do you know how many complaints I've had to deal with because of your absence?"

Raymond opened his mouth to respond, but before he could get a word in, a guest approached the counter.

"Are there any rooms available tonight?"

Mrs. Becker's attention snapped to the guest, and in an instant, her expression morphed into a wide, businesslike smile. "Of course, sir! How many rooms will you be needing?"

Seeing his chance, Arya grabbed Raymond's arm and pulled him toward the kitchen, whispering, "Let's go!"

They darted through the swinging doors into the kitchen, both letting out sighs of relief once they were out of Mrs. Becker's line of fire.

"Oh, that was too close," Raymond muttered, resting his hands on his knees, his breath coming in short bursts. Mrs. Becker's constant nagging grated on his nerves more than any physical injury. He couldn't stand that piercing voice, and sometimes it took all his willpower not to snap.

Arya chuckled, still catching her breath. "We got lucky. More guests arriving means she's too busy playing hostess to keep pestering us."

They shared a laugh, their relief a brief but welcome reprieve.

But just then, another voice broke in. "You two done gossiping yet? There's work to be done, you know."

Raymond looked up to see Seth, another waiter, looming over them. Seth was older, taller, and broad-shouldered, with blond hair and a perpetual scowl. He glared down at Raymond with thinly veiled annoyance. "You have any idea how much extra work we all had to do yesterday because you were slacking off?"

Raymond opened his mouth to reply, but Arya was quicker, stepping forward with a fiery look in her eyes. "Seth, enough! If you hadn't dropped the garlic and left it for someone else to clean up, Raymond wouldn't have slipped and gotten hurt!"

Seth hesitated, his jaw working as though he wanted to argue. But Arya's fierce expression held firm, and finally, he scoffed, crossing his arms. "Pathetic. Hiding behind a girl, are we, Raymond? A loser like you can't even stand up for himself."

He turned on his heel and stalked off, leaving a tense silence in his wake.

Arya looked back at Raymond, her expression softening. "Don't let Seth get to you," she said gently, her tone comforting. "He only lashes out because he's got nothing else to prove. Don't take it personally."

Raymond gave a slight nod, his face calm, though his brow furrowed briefly. Arya noticed his quiet resilience and relaxed, relieved that Seth's words hadn't left any visible scars.

Raymond shrugged off Seth's jibes, feeling almost amused. He had long accepted his status as a waste in his previous life, and it was clear that Seth was merely trying to provoke him. Such tactics were low, but they often worked well on younger, more impulsive individuals.

"Too bad for him," Raymond thought, placing a careful hand on the tender bruise on his head, a reminder of the scuffle that had led to this moment.

"I'm going to entertain the guests," Arya said, glancing back at him with a concerned look. "If Seth and the others give you any trouble, just come find me, okay?"

Her role was vital; the dining hall was starting to fill up, and she needed to ensure that guests felt welcomed and attended to. As she walked away, however, a flicker of uncertainty crossed her face. She noticed something different about him today. Usually, when Seth taunted him, Raymond would turn crimson with anger. But today, he seemed unnervingly calm. "Maybe it's the head injury," she mused to herself, shaking her head as she left.

Once alone, Raymond made his way into the kitchen. His responsibilities included serving food, clearing tables, and washing dishes; a never-ending cycle of labor. As he entered, he spotted Seth deep in conversation with two other waiters, Andre and Mike, their heads huddled together like a pack of wolves plotting. When Seth caught sight of him, a smug grin spread across his face.

"Ah, just my luck," Raymond sighed internally. He was all too familiar with Andre and Mike, who often joined forces with Seth to make his life miserable, frequently dumping their tasks onto him.

"The food for table number three is ready! Hurry up and take it!" The chef's booming voice cut through the chatter of the kitchen.

"Hey, Raymond! Did you hear that? Get moving!" Andre barked, pointing at the plate with a gleeful smirk. Though smaller than Raymond, Andre had no qualms about barking orders, often using Seth and Mike to bolster his authority.

"Of course," Raymond thought, his patience thinning. He had long learned that kindness often invited bullying. Taking a deep breath, he suddenly shouted, "Ah! My head hurts! It really hurts!"

He doubled over, clutching his head dramatically. The sudden outburst caught Seth, Andre, and Mike off guard. For a moment, they stared, uncertain whether to laugh or scold.

"Raymond, stop it!" Seth snapped, irritation flashing across his face.

"What are you waiting for? Andre, bring the food to me!" Just then, the chef returned, glaring at them as he noticed the plate still sitting untouched.

In the kitchen hierarchy, the chef was king, and nobody wanted to face his wrath. Andre, realizing he had no choice, reluctantly picked up the plate, shooting a dark look at Raymond as he passed. "Just wait for it, kid," he hissed, the threat hanging in the air.

Raymond straightened up, a sly smile creeping onto his face as he watched them scurry away. "Let them come," he thought. "Today might just be different."