Arjun Verma tossed his surgical gloves into the bin and stretched his sore arms. The operation had taken seven hours, but the patient was alive — stable heartbeat, steady breathing.
"Another life saved," he muttered, smirking at the exhausted nurses. "Not bad for someone who only slept three hours last night."
The nurses rolled their eyes. They were used to him: a surgeon who mixed brilliance with arrogance.
"Dr. Verma, you really should rest—" one of them started.
Arjun waved her off. "Rest is for the dead. And besides, coffee exists for a reason."
He pulled off his mask, revealing sharp eyes and a grin that looked more like a challenge to the world than a smile. He wasn't just a surgeon — he was a lecturer at the medical college too. His students either admired him or hated him, but none could deny his skill.
Just as he stepped out of the operating room, his phone buzzed. A message from a student read:
"Sir, your lectures are harder than your surgeries. Please go easy on us."
Arjun chuckled. "If they can't handle me, how will they handle the world? Survival of the fittest, kids."
He was halfway down the hospital corridor when the world exploded.
A deafening crash — glass shattered, walls crumbled. Sirens blared as a delivery truck slammed through the emergency entrance, metal screaming against concrete.
For a moment, Arjun's body moved on instinct. He shoved a nurse out of the way, but before he could escape—
Bang!
The ceiling caved in. Pain ripped through him, then nothing.
Darkness swallowed everything.
Arjun groaned as consciousness returned, his head pounding like he had downed a week's worth of alcohol in one night. The sterile smell of disinfectant was gone, replaced by the musty scent of old parchment and dust.
He forced his eyes open. A cracked ceiling greeted him, carved with faint glowing runes. He blinked, confused. The last thing he remembered was the hospital, the crash—then nothing.
Where the hell am I?
He sat up sharply and froze. This wasn't a hospital bed. He was sprawled across a lumpy mattress in a cluttered room, scrolls and books stacked like towers around him. Empty wine bottles littered the floor. A half-burned candle flickered weakly on a desk covered in scribbles.
Arjun rubbed his temples. The headache sharpened, and suddenly, memories that weren't his flooded his mind.
Rowan Elric.
Basic magic tutor at the Grand Arcanum Academy.
Known for laziness. Skipped classes. Slept through lectures.
Students despised him. Professors mocked him. Nobles saw him as a disgrace.
Arjun's lips curled into a half-smile. "So… I've been dumped into the body of a loser. Interesting."
Bang! Bang!
A fist slammed against the door, followed by an impatient voice. "Professor Elric! You're late again! The class is waiting!"
Arjun looked around the messy room one last time and sighed. "Well, looks like the performance begins now."
Dragging himself to the desk, he caught sight of a polished bronze mirror hanging on the wall. The reflection staring back at him wasn't his own. The man had dark, slightly messy hair, sharp features dulled by a lazy expression, and the kind of handsomeness ruined by carelessness.
Arjun smirked at the sight. "Handsome enough. Just needs better posture. And maybe less alcohol."
Bang! The knocking grew louder.
"I'm coming," he muttered, slipping on a black coat that smelled faintly of smoke and wine. The moment he stepped into the hallway, whispers followed him like a shadow.
"There he is—useless as ever."
"Probably forgot what class he's supposed to teach."
"I can't believe the academy keeps him employed."
Arjun ignored them, his smile widening. Back on Earth, he had lectured medical students who thought they were geniuses. This? This was child's play.
When he pushed open the classroom doors, dozens of young faces turned toward him. Some groaned, some laughed.
"Finally decided to show up, Professor?" one boy called mockingly.
Another whispered loudly, "Don't expect to learn anything today. He'll just nap like always."
Arjun's smirk deepened as he strode to the front, his gaze sweeping over the room. The air buzzed faintly with mana — different from Earth, but familiar in rhythm.
He dropped into the professor's chair, leaned back, and propped his chin on his palm with lazy arrogance. Then, with a spark of amusement dancing in his eyes, he said:
"Relax, class. Today… you'll actually learn something."
The classroom fell silent.
The classroom smelled faintly of ink and chalk, rows of wooden desks filled with young nobles and aspiring mages. Some leaned back with folded arms, already smirking, while others whispered openly.
Rowan Elric's reputation was well known: a useless professor who taught nothing, skipped lectures, and barely scraped by.
The moment he stepped in, a girl with braided hair groaned.
"Ugh, here we go again."
A boy in the front row snickered. "Don't expect much. He'll probably just nap on the desk like last time."
Another added, loud enough for the entire room to hear: "Honestly, my father pays tuition for this? A drunkard with a robe?"
Laughter rippled through the class.
Arjun—now Rowan—leaned lazily on the professor's desk, chin resting on his palm. Instead of anger, a crooked smile tugged at his lips. His sharp eyes scanned the room, making a few students shift uncomfortably.
"Good morning, children," he said, his tone dripping with amusement. "Or should I say… future corpses if you don't learn properly?"
The laughter faltered. Several students blinked.
Rowan straightened, tapping the desk lightly. "Let's talk about mana."
Groans erupted. "We already know this," someone muttered.
Rowan raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Then tell me—what is mana?"
A confident noble boy stood. "Mana is… energy. Flowing through the body. We gather it, release it. Everyone knows that."
The professor chuckled, shaking his head. "Wrong. That's like saying blood is red. Technically true, but absolutely useless."
The boy's face turned red. "W-what?"
Rowan's smirk widened. "Mana is energy, yes, but it behaves like current. Think of it like electricity—flowing in circuits inside your body. Overload it, and you short-circuit. Block it, and your spell fizzles. Simple science. Understand that, and you can control mana like a surgeon controls a scalpel."
Silence fell. No one had ever heard mana explained like that. Even the arrogant nobles leaned forward slightly, curiosity breaking through their mockery.
Rowan stretched his arms casually. "But maybe words are too big for some of you. Let's show, not tell."
His gaze swept the class until it landed on a boy at the back. The boy stiffened.
"You," Rowan said, pointing. "Step forward."
The boy hesitated. "M-me?"
"Yes. Don't worry, I won't kill you. Yet."
Nervous laughter trickled through the class as the boy walked to the front. Rowan gestured to his arm. "Show me your hand."
The boy reluctantly extended it. A faint scar ran across his palm, pale and jagged.
Rowan's eyes flickered with interest. "Sword training accident?"
The boy nodded, surprised. "Yes… it never healed right."
Rowan smiled faintly. "Perfect."
He raised his free hand, mana gathering at his fingertips. Instead of the pale, sluggish glow students expected from "healing magic," a brilliant green light flared, sharp and steady.
Gasps echoed through the room.
Rowan traced the scar with surgical precision. The boy flinched at first, but the touch was warm, painless. Within seconds, the jagged line faded—skin knitting flawlessly until nothing remained.
The boy stared at his hand, trembling. "It's… gone."
Rowan clapped him lightly on the shoulder. "Congratulations. You're slightly less broken than you were five minutes ago."
The classroom exploded in whispers.
"Did he just—?"
"That was… impossible."
"Healing that clean? Not even the priests can do it that fast!"
Rowan leaned back against the desk, folding his arms. His smirk returned, cockier than ever.
"Lesson one," he said, voice carrying through the stunned silence. "Never underestimate your professor."
The words hung in the air, heavier than any spell.
For the first time in years, the classroom looked at Rowan Elric with something other than mockery.
They looked at him with awe.