From the moment he woke up, that strange figure had been staring at the rectangular device in his hand with an almost unsettling focus.
"So this is it? This is really the best this story has to offer me?"
After finishing The Magic Warrior at the Academy, Teles felt torn between disappointment and relief. His expectations had somehow been both exceeded and betrayed at the same time.
The story, in his eyes, was riddled with clichés, forced conveniences, and repetitive drama. And yet, the world itself was… rich. Too rich. His personal theory was simple: someone else created the world, and another person wrote the actual plot.
With a sigh, he set his phone on the nightstand and dragged himself to the computer. He wasn't a professional, but as a videomaker with a modest online following, he'd learned plenty over the years just by following clients' instructions. People would pay him to bring their visions to life, and through that, he'd absorbed techniques almost passively.
That afternoon, after finishing both a company's advertising campaign and a content creator's latest video — plus a handful of less interesting projects — he shut down his computer and immediately grabbed his phone to write his review.
---
Review by Selectiv: ★★★☆☆
The plot wasn't very innovative, but the world-building and the power system were surprisingly well-thought-out. Makes me wonder how much effort actually went into creating this story.
---
Teles smirked to himself. "Yeah, no way I'd tell the fans I suspect the author didn't even build the world himself. I'd get hunted down by lunatics for life."
With his phone still in hand, he texted the pizzeria he had a standing deal with. Being lazy — and with a bit of disposable income — he had arranged daily deliveries at 4:00 PM sharp. He only needed to call if he wanted to cancel or change his order. Today, he felt like a Hawaiian pizza.
With nothing better to do, he launched an FPS game. Fifteen minutes later, the pizza arrived. He bolted down the stairs — the elevator was out again — but fate decided to play a joke. Some kids had been playing earlier and left their toys scattered around. His foot hit a plastic Tyrannosaurus, and suddenly he was airborne, rocketing toward the wall like a human missile.
"Seriously?! Is this how I die? Because of a careless kid's toy?"
The world went black. And strangely, his death wasn't nearly as painful as it should have been.
---
"Ugh, my head… I'm definitely complaining to the landlord about this."
That was his first thought as he rubbed his forehead. But when his vision cleared, he realized he was no longer in his apartment. The room looked bizarre — a shelf filled with medieval-style trinkets, a mirror that looked straight out of the Middle Ages.
Two possibilities ran through his mind: "Either I've been drugged… or this is the end."
Teles had always been a thinker, and he knew the universe could be cruel enough to drop someone into another world just to kill them off in some ridiculous way. Or maybe some eccentric billionaire had gone insane with medieval décor.
Resolving to figure it out, he stepped out of bed and opened the window. His eyes widened.
It was an academic setting — something like a university, yet filled with warriors training at supernatural speeds on fields glowing with colorful auras. Scholars wielded elemental powers while the atmosphere buzzed with youthful energy. One word came to mind: magical.
It was exactly like the book he had just finished reading.
And then—
---
[User has fulfilled the requirements for Initialization...]
Ding!
[Extra Character Assistance System Activated]
[Loading Abilities... Professional Videomaker]
[Status Complete]
Character Status: Gray Lizer
Role: Extra
Race: Human
Class: Summoner
Stats
Strength: 9
Agility: 6
Dexterity: 12
Mana: 50
Vitality: 17
Constitution: 8
Affinity
Spiritism, ???, Spatial
Summoner Abilities: Summon, Call
Videomaker Abilities: Zoom, Speed, Insert, Export, Split Screen, ???????????????
---
Teles stared at the screen floating in front of him, his expression caught between frustration and anticipation.
"So, System," he said aloud, "I don't mean to be pushy, but at some point, you're going to have to give me the memories of the original owner of this body. Otherwise… how am I supposed to react properly?"
Silence. Nothing.
With a sigh, he walked to the wardrobe, opened the door — and found a notebook.