The traffic on EDSA was hell, but that wasn't what killed me.
What killed me was trying to cross the street while reading a book titled: "Pre-Colonial Philippines: Society, Politics, and Economy."
I was Mark Santos, a Political Science student with too much time on his hands and a dream of changing the world. My last thought as the truck horn blared and the headlights blinded me was: "Damn, I never got to see how the Tondo Confederacy actually fell..."
Then everything went black.
Chapter 1: I Tried to Build a Toilet and They Thought I Was Summoning Demons
[System Initializing... Welcome to the Past.]
I woke up coughing, smelling not smoke and gasoline, but damp earth, wood, and... something else. Something organic.
"Is he awake?" a voice grumbled. Deep. Rough.
"His eyes are moving. The Anito have returned his spirit," another voice said, softer but authoritative.
I opened my eyes. I was lying on a mat made of woven bamboo. Above me was a roof made of nipa palm. Around me were people wearing... nothing much, really. Just cloth wrapped around their waists and intricate beadwork.
Wait. This isn't a hospital.
I tried to sit up, but my head spun. Memories flooded in—not mine, but someone else's.
Name: Kalayaan
Status: Second Son of Datu Makisig
Condition: Fell from a boat while fishing. Drowned. Revived.
"Oh my god," I whispered. "I really did it. Isekai'd myself."
"Brother!" A young boy ran up to me. "You speak strangely! Are you truly Kalayaan?"
I looked at my hands. They were lean, tanned, and calloused. Not the soft hands of a student.
"I am..." I said, my brain racing a mile a minute. Okay, Mark. Calm down. You wanted to change history. Here is your chance. Don't panic. Analyze.
"Where is the Chief?" I asked, using the term I remembered from my book.
"I am here, boy," said an old man with tattoos covering his arms. He looked at me with narrowed eyes. "You were dead. Now you live. What did you see in the world below?"
Jackpot. They believe in the afterlife. This is my opening.
I stood up, ignoring the dizziness. I straightened my back and tried to look as majestic as possible while wearing just a loincloth.
"I saw..." I paused dramatically. "I saw the future. I saw how we can become strong, so that no one will ever conquer us."
The villagers gasped. The old man—Datu Makisig, my father in this life—stroked his beard. "Speak."
Day 1: Public Health Crisis
My first priority wasn't guns or swords. It was poop.
Looking around the village, I could see the problem immediately. They dumped their waste near the river, which was also where they got drinking water. In a few weeks, there would be an outbreak of cholera or dysentery.
"Everyone!" I clapped my hands. "We are going to build structures away from the river. Holes in the ground, lined with wood. We will put our waste there."
The villagers looked confused. "Why, Young Master? The river carries it away."
"Because the river brings sickness!" I argued. "If we drink the water with waste in it, stomachs hurt, people die! We separate clean and dirty!"
An old woman, the village shaman, stepped forward. She looked skeptical. "You want us to dig holes and hide our... essence? Are you trying to anger the spirits of the land? Or are you trying to grow something evil from it?"
Oh my god. I'm explaining germ theory to people who think disease is a curse.
"It is not magic," I sighed. "It is... Logic. If you keep your house clean, the bad spirits (germs) cannot enter."
"Bad spirits?" The shaman perked up. "Ah! So it is a ward against evil?"
"Sure. Yes. Exactly. It's a giant ward." I gave up. If calling it magic makes them do it, fine.
Day 7: The Latrine Revolution
We built the first sanitation system in Philippine history. And yes, they decorated the outhouses with charms and amulets just to be safe.
But the results were instant. Less flies. Less smell. People stopped getting sick as often.
The respect for "Kalayaan" skyrocketed.
The Meeting
One week later, my father called me to the main hut. Sitting there was someone I didn't expect.
A woman.
She was tall, her skin like polished bronze, and her arms were covered in intricate black patterns—Batok, tattoos of a warrior. She wore a simple red tapis and held a spear that looked heavier than me. Her eyes were sharp, like she was judging every breath I took.
"Kalayaan," my father said. "This is Dayang Hiraya, from the Northern Clan. She has come to see the 'Magic' you speak of."
Hiraya looked me up and down. She sniffed.
"They say you stopped the sickness without offering sacrifices," she said. Her voice was like steel rubbing against steel. "They say you are wise. But you look... soft. And you wear strange charms."
She was pointing at my neck. I had made a simple necklace out of alternating shells and stones, arranging them in a pattern I remembered from physics—just to look cool and mysterious.
I smiled, the same smirk I used when debating in class.
"Appearances can be deceiving, Dayang," I said smoothly. "A sharp spear is useful. But knowing where to strike is better. I don't need muscles to win wars. I just need a map and a plan."
Hiraya frowned. "Words. You speak many words."
"Then let my actions speak," I said, standing up. I walked to the window and pointed at the sea.
"Prepare your warriors, Hiraya. Because soon, big ships will come from across the ocean. They carry metal, fire, and men who want to take our land."
She gripped her spear tighter. "Then we will kill them."
"Yes," I grinned. "But first, we need to make our own metal. And our own fire."
[Quest Updated: Survive the Arrival]
[Current Progress: 1%]
To be continued...
📝 Notes for Next Chapter:
- Kalayaan will start introducing better fishing nets and basic arithmetic to organize food storage.
- He will try to teach Hiraya about "Geometry" so she can build better fortifications, but she will get annoyed because she just wants to fight.
- Madam White Snake (The Merchant) will make her first appearance, smelling business opportunity.