When I opened my eyes, I expected the dim ceiling of my rented flat back on Earth.
Instead, my vision was filled with crimson silk drapes embroidered in gold. The bed beneath me was so soft it felt like sinking into clouds. Perfumed air brushed against my face—sweet, heavy, almost suffocating.
I sat up abruptly. The body moved differently. My arms… too slender. My voice, when I muttered—
"...What the hell?"
—wasn't mine.
My pulse hammered as I stumbled toward a gilded mirror. What looked back wasn't me at all. A pale young man, maybe sixteen, with silver hair, aristocratic features, and cold blue eyes that seemed far too haughty for the panic in them now.
And then came the rush.
Memories. Banquets drenched in wine. Screaming at servants. The laughter of so-called friends. Gambling debts. A father's disappointed gaze.
Kaelen Varcrest II.
I staggered back, nearly toppling the mirror.
I knew that name.
I had written that name.
The worthless noble brat.
The arrogant villain who died in the Academy entrance trials before the story even began.
The character despised by everyone, fated to die publicly like a joke.
And now… I was him.
Before the panic could crush me, something colder intruded.
A metallic chime echoed in my mind.
[SYSTEM INITIALIZED]
Survival System Bound.
By decree of the gods of Earth, you have been granted assistance.
Objective: Survive, Grow, Return.
Warning: Death here = Death everywhere.
A chill raced through me. The gods of Earth…? They had thrown me into my own unfinished story—armed with nothing but a system.
"...Status," I whispered, half-dreading the answer.
The panel unfolded before my eyes.
---
Name: Kaelen Varcrest II
Race: Human (Noble)
Age: 16
Rank: G– (Minus)
Stats:
Strength: 3 (Feeble)
Agility: 4 (Clumsy)
Endurance: 2 (Fragile)
Intelligence: 8 (Mediocre)
Mana: 1 (Defective)
Aura: 0 (None)
Spirit: 0 (Dormant)
Luck: ???
Titles:
Spoiled Noble Brat (Debuff: -10% Respect, -20% Training Efficiency under Observation)
System Bearer (Hidden Buffs: Locked)
Skills: None
Abilities: None
---
The air felt heavier. My hands trembled as I stared at those pathetic numbers.
This wasn't just weak. This was crippled.
And then it hit me like a blade in the chest—
The Academy Entrance Trial.
In exactly one month, I would be standing in front of monsters, prodigies, and heirs of ancient bloodlines. The original Kaelen had collapsed before even lifting a sword. The crowd had laughed. His father had turned away. His family had erased his name.
That death had been scripted.
And now, it was aimed at me.
The system chimed again.
[Task Generated]
Task 1: Break the Cycle.
Survive until the Academy Entrance Trial.
Requirement: Reach F– Rank Strength (minimum).
Reward: Skill – Beginner Combat Arts, 100 System Points.
Penalty: Permanent Death.
My throat tightened. The brat's body had been destined to be nothing but a stepping stone for other characters. A warning. A joke.
But now I was here.
I pressed a hand to the mirror, staring into those cold blue eyes that once sneered at the world. They weren't sneering anymore.
"If this body was meant to die… then I'll rewrite its fate."
I gritted my teeth, every nerve burning with defiance.
"I will not die as a footnote. Not in my story. Not in anyone's."