Art POV
I returned home, dejected about my failure.
Launching myself into the soft comfort of my couch, I flipped over and stared at the ceiling of my home with an expression even I couldn't decipher.
I felt hopeless and over the edge.
Not because of the holes in my memories, but the growing wariness.
Lying still on the couch, I began to realize how misinformed those webnovels I'd read back then were.
I didn't come into this world with a plan—heck, I don't even remember when I arrived. It just suddenly happened, and before I knew it, I was staring at a strange woman calling me her son.
I had been confused back then, but within a day, I learned to adapt and began forming a plan.
It wasn't much.
Just use my system and make sure the story's plot ran the same.
When I first arrived, I thought it would be that easy—and to my surprise, it actually was.
If I hadn't been so power-hungry and had learned to observe, so many of my problems wouldn't be here.
