My eyes snap open at the sound of a scream, and I sit up. 'Am I dead-dead? No, heaven wouldn't have a man threatening a little girl with a knife. I am currently sitting in a dumpster, and about twenty feet in front of me, there is a middle-aged guy pointing a gun I've never seen before (And I've been shot by several) at a little girl, my guess, around age six. Acting on a whim, I lunge at the attacker, quickly slamming his head into a brick wall. He is instantly unconscious. I look for the little girl, to ask her if she is alright, but I freeze as I start to form the words. The girl has little grey rabbit ears growing out of her head. I can see their radiant heat, so I know they're real. The girl quickly runs off. I poke my head out of the alleyway at about waist height, and look one way, then the other. No-one in sight. I retreat back into the dark alley and think. Other people. Living people. Where am I?
I shuffle back over to the would-be murderer, thinking. How did I get here? Was it the glowing meteor? I shake my head, looking at the guy on the ground, and inhale. Dead. And blood, my guess is bleeding inside the head. I slam his head into the concrete a few times, enough to crack the skull, and eat the contents. Like plugging in a thumb drive, there is suddenly more information in my head. I don't get personal memories, but I get a general who, what, and where. 'Remnant, huh?' As I finish off the brain, feeling my mind sharpen slightly. I move on to the rest, until all that remains is bone and cloth. Disgusting, I know, but this is how I am. As I eat, gaining mass from my meal, the hole in my abdomen closes, a benefit of the zombie plague: lose something? Eat enough and you get it back! Except the brain. You lose that, and you are gone, but mild brain damage can be recovered from. I don't even have a scar. After all my injuries are healed, all other mass I eat increases my density, making me harder to damage, and giving me resources to repair without eating. That is actually how some of us could storm military compounds, they regenerated from explosions, and smaller bullets would bounce off skulls.
I find a wallet with a ton of Lien, apparently this world's currency, inside. I take that, and reset his scroll, its mine now. I toss the rest in the dumpster I woke up in a few minutes ago, a sacrifice to the magical wizard of garbage. I throw my hood over my head and walk down the street. Fine motor control is better, and I imitate a clumsy living person walk, definitely not because that is the best I can do. According to my latest… information accumulation this world was threatened by the creatures of Grimm, who sought to destroy life, and huntsmen and huntresses defended most of humanity, protecting the living world. I stop walking by a glass window, looking inside. It's a family restaurant, children running around and playing, full of life and joy. I focus on my reflection in the glass. An unhealthily pale, cosplay dressed teenager with dead blue-grey eyes stares back at me. I clench my fist, and he does the same. My world ended, I'm not letting the same happen here.
Apparently, the guy I ate was big into crime, as my new archive of information tells me of the guy I need to talk to, to get into a huntsman academy, a club owner who goes by the name of Junior, who was a big part of underworld information dealings. The club wasn't that far from the alley I woke up in, and I rinse the blood off my face and hands, (Don't ask.) I walk past the guards, and over to the bar. No-one blinks an eye. I walk up to Junior, and say, "I hear… you can get things for people who need things." A small cloud of dust comes out when I talk, but he didn't appear to notice.
He looks at me with a raised eyebrow, "Who's asking"
"Jaune… Arc," I say automatically, surprised by myself. I thanked a high deity for memory flashes.
Junior isn't amused, "What kinds of things?"
"Forged… hunter transcripts. Money up front." He doesn't bat an eye.
"Easy enough, follow me. We'll discuss details." I follow.
I was actually surprised at how easy it was to get what I needed. I paid the money, we discussed details, and the papers were in my hand before the night was over. As I exit the bar, I notice a beautiful blond girl entering. She doesn't notice me, but I mainly notice her scent. Like a hybrid of a bird and a human, that was set on fire. I'm fairly certain that I'm the only one that can smell it, as it is covered up by perfume and hair conditioner. I shake my head and walk off. I find a local mailing service, and had my papers scanned and sent to Beacon Registration. I aimlessly wander, until I find a dark alley relatively close to the air docks, at least I think that's what they were called here. I lean against a wall, so I am completely covered by shadow, and think about plans.
A few hours later, my new scroll goes off. I check it, and it tells me that Beacon accepted me, and a date and time to be on a specific bullhead to the academy. I smile a little, setting a calendar alert on my scroll. I put it away, and walk out of the shadows. As I walk, I notice passers-by wrinkling their noses as I pass, as if they smell something foul. I sniff, but don't smell anything different, but then it hits me: I smell like a dead guy. I am a dead guy! I take out my new scroll and find a local convenience store. I try to make my walk there brisk.