Transmigrated: I Bec Chapter 81: I can’t process this

Chapter 81: I can’t process this

[Flashback]

After the mission in Country X was successfully completed, Sal still wasn’t satisfied.

At first, Raven assumed it was because she had gotten on his nerves throughout the mission. But later, when he dragged her out for drinks, she realized she had been wrong.

She was the reason he was upset.

"Aah..."

Finishing his second bottle of beer, Sal slammed it onto the table and signaled for another.

"Are you planning to go on a drinking spree?" Raven asked, chewing on dried fish as she glanced at him. "Because let me warn you, I am not carrying your drunk self home."

Sal scoffed.

He wasn’t someone who drank without reason. And knowing today wasn’t like any other day, Raven mentally prepared herself for whatever emotional storm was coming.

"I’m not getting drunk," Sal said, clicking his tongue. "This is just a demo."

The moment another bottle was placed in front of him, he grabbed it and gulped it down without hesitation.

Raven looked away with a faint scoff.

This place was one of their safe spots—a place where they could let their guard down, share a drink, and just exist without the weight of missions pressing down on them.

Despite their busy schedules, they always found time like this. Or rather, Sal always made sure they did—even when Raven wasn’t in the mood.

Once he finished the bottle, Sal suddenly began to laugh.

"Why haven’t you asked me why I’m upset?" he asked, turning to look at her.

Though he was only slightly tipsy, the alcohol had already begun to show. His cheeks were flushed, and his usual sharpness had softened.

Raven studied him for a moment before picking up her drink.

"Because it’s nothing new," she said, taking a sip. "You’ve always been a grumpy kid."

She knew that wasn’t entirely true.

Sal rarely let things get to him. And when he did, it never felt like this.

This was different.

They had known each other for a long time. Despite working closely together, neither of them was good at opening up.

Sal tried sometimes.

Raven never did.

Silence settled between them.

Sal let out a quiet chuckle, but the sadness in his eyes remained.

"I like it when you call me Chickpea," he said softly. "It makes me feel... lovable. Even though you act annoyed every time I make you say it."

Ivy’s brows drew together slightly as she looked at him.

He had gone quiet again.

Yes, it had been his idea in the first place. He had insisted she give him a nickname. Back then, she hadn’t put much thought into it and had casually called him Chickpea—mostly because he was oddly scared of them.

But hearing him say this now...

Something in her chest tightened.

Not happiness.

Something heavier.

"But you always sulk when I call you that," Ivy said, her voice softer now. "So how can you say you like it?"

Sal let out a humorless laugh.

"Because I hate the name he gave me," he said, his voice cracking. "I hate that no matter what I do, his blood still runs in my veins."

Raven stilled.

Sal’s eyes welled up, but he didn’t look away.

"It was the name my father gave me. The one my mother loved," he continued. "But no matter how much I tried, I could never accept it."

His hands clenched slightly.

"Because that same man... the one who was supposed to protect us... left us bleeding every time he came home high."

The memory dragged him back. His father—drunk, violent, unpredictable, beating his mother. Beating him,again and again.

No matter how much they tried to resist, it only made things worse.

Until one night his father smashed a bottle against his mother’s head and she collapsed, blood pouring down her face.

And when Sal tried to stop him, the man turned on him too.

He would have died that nigh if his mother hadn’t stepped in.

"Sal... go... call save yourself..." she had screamed.

Like a frightened child, he had nodded and run, barefoot, into the dark streets.

But what could a seven-year-old do? He didn’t even know the way and ran and ran until the streets blurred, until he no longer knew where he was... or how to go back.

And deep inside, he already knew his mother wouldn’t survive.

Sal let out a hollow chuckle. That was the last clear memory he had of her.

After that, life blurred into survival. The streets became his home. The world became something he had to endure.

Until, at eighteen, he was pulled into the underworld.

Strangely, that life gave him more stability than the one he had lost. At least there, he had a purpose. At least there, he wasn’t alone all the time. And yet when he turned nieen, he went back to the place he once called home.

He found that his parents had died.

"So keep calling me Chickpea... only you," he said, pointing at her as his vision began to blur.

Then, without waiting for her response, he reached for another bottle and took a long drink.

Raven watched him quietly, a faint, sad smile touching her lips.

I will, she thought. Because it was the only name your mother gave you that still feels like love.

[Present]

Sal gasped and staggered back, clutching his chest as the realization hit him like a bolt.

Before he could steady himself, his legs gave out. He slid down the wall and hit the floor, still staring at Ivy like she was something unreal—like she might disappear if he blinked too hard.

His breathing turned uneven.

Fast and shallow.

"No... no, this is not happening," he muttered, dragging a shaky hand through his hair. "This is not real. I refuse to accept this."

He looked around the room as if expecting hidden cameras to pop out.

"Is this some kind of experiment? Did I get drugged? Am I hallucinating?" His eyes snapped back to her. "Did you drug me? Please tell me you drugged me. That would actually make sense."

She didn’t answer and that made it worse.

Sal pressed both hands to his head.

"Okay... okay, think," he mumbled, rocking slightly. "Parallel universe? Possible. Low probability, but possible. Soul swap?" He let out a weak laugh. "Yeah, sure. Why not? Let’s just add that to the list of things ruining my life today."

He pointed at her accusingly, his voice rising. "You’re telling me you’re Raven. My Raven. In... her body?"

A moment passed and then his face twisted in disbelief.

"This sounds like a badly written novel," he went on, shaking his head. "No, worse. Even novels try to make sense. This is just chaos. Pure, unfiltered chaos."

He dropped his hand, staring at her again—really staring this time.

Searching, comparing and trying to find something familiar in someone who looked completely different.

His voice dropped, almost uncertain.

"Say something," he said. "Anything. Prove it again. Because right now my brain is rejecting reality, and I think it’s about to shut down for maintenance."

He let out a breathless laugh, then covered his face.

"I can’t process this," he admitted. "I deal with codes, systems, logic. This—" he gestured vaguely toward her, "—this is not logic. This is a glitch in existence."

Then he peeked at her through his fingers.

"If you really are Raven..." he said slowly, his voice quieter now, almost fragile, "then I have officially lost control over my life."

A few second passed and with a groan, he dropped his head back against the wall.

"I knew I should’ve stayed with the butter chicken."

Ivy looked at Sal in silence.

She knew how unbelievable it sounded. Anyone would struggle to accept it if someone suddenly claimed they had transmigrated into another body. It sounded absurd—like something out of fiction.

But this wasn’t fiction.

Her soul really had been transferred into Ivy’s body.

And she had no real way to prove it.

"This is the truth, Sal," she said quietly. "If it wasn’t... how would I have contacted you?"

Sal looked at her and blinked, still trying to process everything.

"Didn’t you just... capture Raven or something?" he asked, his voice uncertain.

Ivy shook her head.

"I don’t even know where she is," she replied, a trace of disappointment slipping into her tone.

Sal frowned.

There was something in her expression—a faint sadness, something raw and unguarded—that made him pause.

It felt familiar.

If she’s telling the truth... then does that mean... she really is Raven?

Sal had worked with Raven for years. They had shared moments, secrets, memories that no one else knew.

And what she had said earlier... that wasn’t something anyone could fake. It was only Raven who knew him like that.

Slowly, his doubt began to crumble and his gaze lifted to her again, but this time, filled with something else. Recognition.

His eyes brimmed with tears. And before Ivy could even react, he pushed himself to his feet and rushed toward her, pulling her into a tight hug.

"...You idiot," he muttered, his voice cracking as he held onto her. "I thought I would never see you again"

Raven breathed a sigh of relief and was about to hug him back when the door suddenly opened with an unexpect person standing there and silently fuming.