"Alright, settle down, you bunch of aspiring mystique wranglers! Turn to page 69. Yes, I know what you're thinking, but no, this isn't that kind of class. Today, we'll be diving into the common elemental types that mystique creatures might awaken."
The woman, whose flaming red hair seemed to defy gravity and whose figure could launch a thousand ships (or at least a small fishing boat), addressed the class with a theatrical flourish. Her name was Ms. Ignacia, though the students affectionately (and sometimes fearfully) called her "Inferno Iggy" behind her back.
The students, a motley crew of teenagers who looked like they'd rather be anywhere else, begrudgingly flipped open their textbooks. The pages displayed images of four distinct icons: a flickering flame, a swirling droplet, a gusting wind, and a chunk of… well, earth. It looked suspiciously like a potato.
"First, we have fire! The most common element," Ms. Ignacia declared, striking a pose that would make a runway model jealous. "Why? Because everyone loves a good fireball! Mystique creatures, especially the pyromaniac ones, just opt for firepower. It's like choosing pizza over broccoli. No contest!"
A few students snickered. Ms. Ignacia shot them a wink.
"Second, water! The most abundant element on our planet! You know, H2O, the stuff you drink, the stuff that makes up most of your body, the stuff that floods your basement when the typhoon hits. You can't escape it! And neither can mystique creatures!" She paused for dramatic effect. "Unless they're really good at teleportation. But that's a lesson for another day, and probably another teacher. Teleportation is way above my pay grade."
"Third, wind! Ah, the element of freedom! Of soaring through the skies! Of… well, mostly just being annoying when it messes up your hair." Ms. Ignacia ran a hand through her own fiery mane. "But seriously, most winged mystique creatures can sense and manipulate it after reaching adulthood. It's like their built-in GPS and turbo boost all rolled into one!"
"Finally," she said with a sigh, "earth. The element of… dirt. Okay, it's more than just dirt. It's stability, it's grounding, it's… honestly, it's kind of boring compared to the other three. But! Many mystique creatures living underground can sense it. They're like the mole people of the mystique world! And you don't want to mess with mole people. They know where all the good worms are buried."
The students listened, some with genuine interest, others with the glazed-over look of someone contemplating the existential dread of standardized testing. Their eyes, however, reflected a deep, almost desperate longing. They weren't just learning about elements; they were dreaming of wielding them, of becoming powerful mystique tamers, of finally getting that cool mystique creature to show off to their friends.
"Now," Ms. Ignacia continued, snapping her fingers to bring them back to reality, "even though these four elements are the most common, the vast majority of mystique creatures—especially those native to our world—don't awaken any element at all. They're like… the vanilla ice cream of the mystique world. Perfectly fine, perfectly acceptable, but not exactly setting the world on fire, are they?"
The students snapped out of their reverie, nodding in agreement. It was a harsh truth, but a truth nonetheless. Not everyone was destined for greatness. Some were just destined to scoop mystique creature poop.
Meanwhile, in the back row, a particular student was engrossed in his textbook, his brow furrowed in concentration. This was Sean, a transfer student with a secret.
No matter how many times I read about these creatures, he mused, I can't help but be fascinated. And slightly terrified. I mean, giant fire-breathing lizards? What's not to love… and run away from screaming?
He wasn't originally from this world. He was, in fact, from a world remarkably devoid of giant lizards, fireballs, and seductive redheads lecturing about elemental magic. While working a mind-numbingly boring construction job, he'd encountered an event that changed his life forever. Or, you know, ended it and then restarted it in a completely different dimension. Tomato, tomahto.
A group of terrorists, who apparently hadn't gotten the memo that terrorism was so last century, hijacked a bus full of small children. They were ranting about the end of the world, the coming apocalypse, and the importance of wearing matching socks (okay, maybe not the socks, but they were definitely unhinged). They brandished some kind of glowing rock, which Sean suspected was the source of their crazy.
Being the only one with a functioning moral compass (and a healthy dose of self-preservation), Sean rescued the children. He stole the rock, which, in hindsight, might not have been the smartest move, and became the terrorists' new favorite chew toy.
Unfortunately, the police on the scene were either having a really bad day or had just finished watching a particularly violent action movie. They didn't seem to care that Sean was saving a busload of kids. They just saw a guy with a glowing rock and opened fire.
With Sean's… unintentional assistance, the police managed to gun down all one hundred terrorists. Sean, however, was caught in the crossfire. He vaguely remembered thinking, Well, this sucks, before everything went black.
He didn't know what happened next, but he woke up in a world that made his old life look like a black-and-white sitcom. He couldn't help but sigh inwardly. Great. Just great. I go from being a construction worker to a bullet-riddled corpse to… whatever this is.
He had been living among the people of this world for a year, trying his best not to stick out like a sore thumb (or a time-traveling construction worker).
At first, he thought he was dreaming. Maybe he'd eaten some bad street food before the whole terrorist incident. But as reality sank in, he panicked. Mildly. On the inside. He was a master of controlled panic.
He immersed himself in the knowledge of this world, reading every book, watching every documentary, eavesdropping on every conversation he could. What he learned shocked him to his core.
Mystique creatures—beings that didn't exist in his old world (unless you counted pigeons, which he definitely didn't)—along with the advent of world portals (basically interdimensional bus stops) and secret realms (think hidden dungeons filled with loot and monsters), made him realize he had arrived in a world far different from his former one.
In his old world, he was a twenty-year-old high school graduate, orphaned and struggling to survive in a world that seemed determined to kick him while he was down.
In this world, he was a fifteen-year-old living with his aunt, a woman whose cooking skills were inversely proportional to her love for him, after his parents perished in a portal break. Apparently, opening a portal in your backyard was frowned upon in this world. Who knew?
No matter where I am, he mused, I always end up an orphan. It's like a cosmic curse or something. Maybe I should start wearing a sign that says, 'Warning: May cause parental demise.'
At least the owner of this body lost his parents when he was young, not making him a bringer of bad luck, as he had always feared. Maybe, just maybe, he could break the cycle. Or at least learn how to cook before his aunt accidentally poisoned him with her "mystery meatloaf."
"Okay class, that's it for today!" Ms. Ignacia announced, clapping her hands together. "I suggest you continue training. Studying is useless unless you can apply it to yourself. And by 'apply it to yourself,' I don't mean setting yourself on fire. I've had enough paperwork this year already."
With that, she sashayed out of the classroom, leaving a faint scent of cinnamon and dragon fire in her wake. The classroom immediately erupted in noise.
"Hey, have you heard about the titan constrictor that appeared in Snake Forest?" one student exclaimed, his voice filled with a mixture of fear and excitement. "Apparently, it's got scales tougher than steel and a breath that smells like week-old gym socks!"
"Oh my gosh, my neighbor became a martial artist!" another student gushed. "Now he can sign a contract with a mystique creature! He's thinking of getting a fluffy bunny. I told him he should get a dragon, but he said bunnies are less likely to incinerate his apartment."
Most conversations revolved around training, mystique creatures, and martial artists. It was the lifeblood of this world, the currency of cool, the reason why everyone bothered showing up to school in the first place.
There were two main paths in this world: a spiritual tamer, who formed bonds with mystique creatures and harnessed their power, and a martial artist, who honed their own body into a weapon of mass destruction (or at least a really effective self-defense tool).
Beneath them were numerous occupations directly connected to the two: alchemists who brewed potions, blacksmiths who forged weapons, evolution planners who… well, planned evolutions. It was a complex and interconnected world, a giant ecosystem of mystical mayhem.
"Man, I want to reach the vital force realm immediately!" a beefy student named Bruno declared, flexing his biceps for emphasis. "What about you, Sean? Are you close to reaching it? You always look like you're about to explode with inner power."
Sean, the student who had transmigrated just a year ago and was still trying to figure out which fork to use in this bizarre new reality, shook his head. "Nah, not even close. I'm still trying to figure out how to make instant noodles without setting off the smoke alarm."
Inwardly, he was screaming. His own realm was quite different from this world, and he didn't know why. He'd tried meditating, chanting, even standing on his head while reciting the alphabet backwards. Nothing seemed to work. He was stuck in a metaphysical rut.
Martial artist was the most common path, as those who reached the vital realm could sign a contract with a mystique creature and nurture it to help it grow stronger. It was like having a super-powered pet with benefits.
Mystique creatures were entities that gained spirit after being infused with spiritual energy. They were the source of all the weirdness and wonder in this world.
They varied from undeads (zombies, skeletons, the occasional grumpy ghost) to inanimate objects (possessed swords, sentient teapots, self-folding laundry), but the most common were beasts (dragons, griffins, giant hamsters).
According to what he had learned, this world was similar to his former world until a hundred years ago, when portals appeared and the world underwent a great transformation. It was like the universe had decided to throw a cosmic party and invited everyone, including the monsters.
Its size grew tenfold, and different types of energies began floating everywhere, bringing about great change to everything they touched. It was a chaotic, unpredictable, and utterly fascinating world.
Back in the present, Sean and his classmates shuffled out of the classroom, heading to their next class.
After studying mystique creatures, they would attend standard classes (math, science, history – the stuff that Sean still found surprisingly useless) and then martial arts training (the stuff that Sean was desperately trying to figure out).
"I don't know why we're still teaching standard subjects with how the world operates now," his friend, a lanky kid named Kevin, complained loudly. "It's not like knowing the Pythagorean theorem is going to help me fight a goblin."
Many agreed, feeling they should spend their time training rather than studying seemingly useless subjects. After all, who needed algebra when you could throw a fireball?
"Sean, are you coming with us to the pet shop later?" Kevin asked. "We're going to check out the new litter of pygmy griffins. They're supposed to be ridiculously cute."
Sean looked at him strangely. "Didn't I tell you I have a job now?" he asked, trying to sound annoyed but secretly thrilled that he had a legitimate excuse to avoid potentially lethal pygmy griffins.
Kevin clicked his tongue. "Yeah, mature bastard. Where are you working? Some fancy alchemist's lab? Are you secretly brewing potions that will make us all super strong?"
"At the pet shop you guys are going to visit," he answered innocently, blinking his eyes.
Kevin paused, his brain clearly struggling to process this information. "What the f*ck!? How did you score that job?! Are you blackmailing someone? Did you sell your soul to a demon? What dark magic is this?!"
His friend's reaction wasn't an overreaction. Getting a job at the local pet shop was like winning the lottery. It was the gateway to fame, fortune, and potentially getting eaten by a disgruntled mystique creature.
Most pet shop employees had great backgrounds, were alchemists, or evolution planners. They were the rock stars of the mystique world.
"Hahaha! With my handsome charm, of course," Sean said, striking a pose that he'd stolen from Ms. Ignacia.
"Get out! What handsome charm!? I don't see it!" Kevin punched him in the shoulder, laughing genuinely. He was happy for his friend, even if he was also incredibly jealous.
He laughed too, having gotten the job by sheer luck. He'd stumbled upon the owner wrestling a particularly feisty monkey and offered to help. Apparently, his surprisingly effective monkey-wrestling skills had landed him the gig.
His chores involved scooping waste from mystique beasts (beast-type mystique creatures) and feeding them. It wasn't glamorous, but it was a job. And it paid in actual money, not just exposure and the faint hope of not getting mauled.
The shop was known for its mystique beasts, specifically apes, of various species ranging from common to excellent quality. They had everything from tiny, mischievous marmosets to hulking, gorilla-like behemoths. It was like a primate paradise… or a primate prison, depending on your perspective.
Mystique creatures were graded from common, uncommon, rare, excellent, superior, and majestic. It was a complex and arbitrary system that seemed to change depending on the creature's mood.
He didn't know if there were higher grades. He suspected there were, but he also suspected that those creatures were probably too busy ruling the world to bother with pet shops.
After lunch (a questionable concoction of rice and something vaguely resembling chicken), the students began discussing their next class—the most important class in their minds.
Martial arts class!
Everyone gathered at the largest part of the school: the field. It was a vast expanse of dirt and grass, scarred with the marks of countless training sessions.
Most public schools were like this, hosting standard subjects but prioritizing martial arts. It was a reflection of the world they lived in, a world where strength and skill were the keys to survival.
Sean sighed inwardly, pulling up his personal status screen. It was a habit he'd developed, a way to track his progress (or lack thereof) in this strange new world.
Name: Sean
Realm: Skin Tempering 2nd stage
Vital Force: 0
Contracts: 0
Technique: Military Stance (4th Tier)
He didn't know what his realm was. It wasn't taught in school or written in any books he had read. He was a complete and utter mystery, even to himself.
He could only try to understand it on his own, not wanting anyone to find out something was wrong with him. In this world, being different was dangerous. It made you a target.
In this world, safety was paramount. There were cultists, mad scientists, and weirdoes who liked to dissect people. It was a constant threat, a shadow lurking just beneath the surface of everyday life.
"Hey, stop dozing off. The instructor is here!" Kevin elbowed him, snapping him out of his reverie. "You look like you're about to fall asleep standing up. Did you stay up all night wrestling monkeys again?"
His friend was used to him standing in a daze, as if reading something in front of him when there was nothing there. He just chalked it up to Sean being "weird." Which, to be fair, was a pretty accurate assessment.
Sean smiled wryly. The floating window in front of him was invisible to others, making him look like a fool. He was pretty sure people thought he was talking to imaginary friends.
A burly man with a permanent scowl etched on his face walked onto the stage, followed by a young girl in tight black clothes. The man was Master Kenji, their martial arts instructor, a man who believed that pain was the best teacher. The girl was… well, Sean didn't know who she was, but she looked like she could probably break him in half without breaking a sweat.
"Everyone! Rejoice!" Master Kenji bellowed, his voice echoing across the field. "We have a special visitor: Reina, the daughter of the Black Ape Dojo Master! She's here to demonstrate their dojo's martial arts!"
The students erupted in excitement. They knew those training under specialized martial art centers and dojos practiced different martial arts compared to their common Military Stance. It was like comparing a rusty butter knife to a laser-guided missile.
"The Black Ape Dojo! I heard they're recruiting more disciples since their dojo master broke through to Gold Rank," Kevin whispered, his eyes wide with awe. "That's like… the pinnacle of martial arts mastery! He could probably punch a mountain into dust!"
Hearing his friend's words, Sean was shocked. Gold Rank! He'd heard rumors of such beings, legends whispered in hushed tones. They were the stuff of myths, the guardians of humanity, the ones who stood between the world and utter annihilation.
From what he knew, those who reached this realm were a deterrent, capable of destroying a small city on their own. They were also impervious to most man-made weapons and might even survive a nuclear bomb if they controlled their aura. It was a level of power that Sean couldn't even comprehend.
He inhaled sharply, realizing how powerful the young girl's father was. He suddenly felt very, very small.
"I'm going to showcase the common martial art of our dojo: Black Ape Fist," Reina announced, her voice surprisingly soft despite her intimidating aura. "It's a technique derived from watching how Black Apes attack. We try to emulate their ferocity."