Transmigrate to Ancient Times and Become a High Official

Mu Da’e opened his eyes amid violent jolts. The air was thick with damp river breeze and the smell of rotting water plants. He instinctively reached for his waist. The holster that should have held his Type 95 assault rifle was gone. All he felt was coarse hemp rubbing against his skin. Gray, dusty planks filled his field of vision. Murky water seeped through several cracks, and a few tiny bugs scurried along the grain of the wood. “Awake?” a hoarse voice came from above.