In a small, unassuming room, the piercing ring of an alarm clock cut through the silence. It was 7:00 AM. The loud, persistent noise seemed to grate on the nerves of the young man lying in bed. He jolted awake, his eyes snapping open to reveal a look of sheer confusion as he took in his unfamiliar surroundings.
Leon's POV
Where… am I?
I scanned the room. In the corner sat a small desk—a study desk, by the looks of it. To my left stood a simple wardrobe. Everything about this place was alien; it certainly wasn't my room, nor did it belong to any of my friends, as far as I could remember.
Swallowed by confusion, I decided to get up and leave the room. What greeted me outside was nothing but silence. The house was empty, tidy, and showed no obvious signs of anyone else living there. I made my way toward what appeared to be the bathroom. When I caught my reflection in the mirror, my legs suddenly felt like lead.
"What is this? ... Who is this?"
A stranger's face stared back at me. Black hair, average features—the face of a young man who looked to be about eighteen years old. Suddenly, a sharp, searing pain shot through my head, and my vision faded into black.
Leon. That was my name. I was an orphan who lived an ordinary life. Contrary to what one might expect, it wasn't a life of profound misery or cinematic suffering. I was just... average. I had a few friends and shared common hobbies, like playing football and reading novels.
Last night, I had been reading one of those infuriating web novels—the kind where the world seems to conspire against the protagonist for no reason at all. I fell asleep mid-read, just like any other night. But when I woke up, I was in a different body.
After collapsing on the bathroom floor of this strange house, I regained consciousness. Somehow, the memories of this body—which coincidentally shared my name—had flooded into my mind.
I had been transported into the very novel I was reading just days ago.
I didn't know what to do. Should I scream? Cry? Laugh? Strangely, I felt calm. More than that, I felt a sense of relief, even happiness. There was no regret, no sorrow, no longing for my previous life. Even though I had friends and a decent existence, deep down, I had never been satisfied. I was invisible, living a life of crushing mediocrity.
Was I seeking attention? Did I want to be at the top of the food chain?
Honestly... yes.
Now, having transmigrated into a novel... I took a deep breath. My arms began to tremble. I wasn't shaking from fear—I was shaking with excitement. I had actually made it.
"Hahaha..."
I can start over. Better yet, I know almost every secret and character in this world. As for the plot? The hero? The villain?
I laughed. Why should I care about any of that nonsense? This time, I'll do exactly what I want without a shred of regret. And if I die? So be it. I simply don't care anymore.