Scheduled discipline.
I knew exactly what that meant. Chapter 1 of Heirs of the Azure Orb. The opening scene where the golden boy protagonist publicly humiliates Kaelen for his latest transgression—something involving harassment of a servant girl. It was the perfect opening act for the readers back home. The righteous hero, Leo, putting the scumbag noble in his place to win their immediate adoration. I was just the prop designed to make him shine.
And according to the timeline, it was happening today.
"I... perhaps we could postpone—"
"Young Master Leo was quite insistent," the maid interrupted, her tone making it clear that postponement wasn't an option. "He mentioned that delays would only make the lesson more... thorough."
Thorough. Right. Because getting beaten half to death by the protagonist wasn't thorough enough already.
The maid turned to leave, pausing at the door. "Young Master, if I may offer some advice?"
I nodded, hoping she might have some insight that could help me survive the next hour.
"Accept your punishment with dignity. Young Master Leo is... merciful to those who show proper remorse."
Merciful. Sure. In the novel, Leo's idea of mercy was stopping before permanent damage. What a saint.
The door closed behind her with a soft click, leaving me alone with my terror and the growing realization that this wasn't a dream I could wake up from.
Think, Alex. Think like the engineering student you are, not the panic-stricken idiot you're acting like.
I knew the story. I knew what was supposed to happen. In roughly thirty minutes, I was supposed to walk into that courtyard where Leo and his friends would be waiting. Kaelen would try to bluster and threaten, using his family name as a shield. Leo would calmly explain Kaelen's crimes—harassment, abuse of servants, general scumbaggery. Then came the "lesson."
I could already feel it. The phantom crack of ribs under Leo's boot. The searing agony of a shoulder wrenched from its socket. The novel described it in detail: a week in bed, unable to move without wincing. All perfectly justified, of course, because he was a cartoonish villain who deserved everything he got.
But I wasn't that Kaelen. I hadn't done those things. I was just some college student who'd made the cosmic mistake of criticizing a fictional character.
Cosmic mistake. Right. Because that's definitely what happened here. Totally rational explanation.
I pushed the existential crisis aside and focused on immediate survival. Running wasn't an option—this was the Leone family estate, and I had nowhere to go. Fighting back would just make things worse, assuming I could even throw a punch with these noodle arms.
That left endurance. Take the beating, survive it, and figure out how to navigate this world afterward.
My mind raced, grasping for the one lifeline every transmigrator gets. 'Status,' I thought, focusing inward with all my might. 'System Menu. Character Sheet. Anything.'
Silence.
Not a blue screen, not a floating window, not even a disembodied voice. There was nothing. Just the frantic pulse in my ears and the chilling realization that I hadn't been transported into a game. I'd been thrown into a grave with someone else's name on it.
I pulled on the clothes the maid had left, fingers trembling as I fastened the buttons. The fabric felt foreign against my skin, too fine and too formal. Everything about this body felt wrong—the way it moved, the way it breathed, even the way it stood.
A window overlooked the courtyard where my fate waited. I could see figures gathering below, though the angle made it hard to make out details. One stood apart from the others, tall and confident, with hair that caught the morning light like spun gold.
Leo von Valerius. The golden boy himself.
At least I'll get to meet a protagonist before I die. That's something, right?
The thought sparked a bitter laugh. Here I was, about to be beaten senseless by a character I'd spent hours critiquing. The irony was so thick I could choke on it.
Another knock interrupted my spiral into hysteria. This time, the maid didn't wait for permission.
"Young Master, it's time."
I nodded, not trusting my voice. My legs were liquid as I followed her. Corridors stretched on, lined with portraits of stern-faced ancestors. The Leones. Their painted eyes, cold and unforgiving, seemed to track my shameful procession.
What would they thinkif they knew their pathetic bloodline was now piloted by a stranger who got here by shitposting?
The thought almost made me laugh again. Almost.
We reached a set of double doors that opened onto the courtyard. Sunlight streamed through, warm and golden and beautiful. It seemed wrong that such a lovely morning should be the backdrop for what was about to happen.
"Young Master," the maid said quietly, "remember what I told you about dignity."
Right. Dignity. I was about to be publicly humiliated and physically brutalized, but I should maintain my dignity while it happened.
Welcome to aristocratic life, I guess.
I stepped through the doors. The courtyard air was warm, smelling of trimmed grass and morning dew—a beautiful day for an execution. And there he was. Leo von Valerius. Golden hair, sapphire eyes, the very picture of a protagonist.
His eyes—sapphire, just like the novel described—flicked to me, and for a heartbeat, they weren't just looking. They were assessing. A faint, almost imperceptible shimmer of blue mana coated his knuckles.
He wasn't smiling. A predator doesn't smile at its meal.
===
Don't be shy! Let me know what you think of the story! And if you have time, drop a review please!