Honestly, I'm not the narcissistic type. Really. I'm just a sixteen-year-old kid who happens to have rich parents. I can buy anything I want. Everyone sucks up to me to get something out of me.
No one dares to mess with me.
No one dares to reprimand me even if I do something rude.
Sounds like my life is great, right? Actually, it's not at all. To be honest? It's really boring as hell.
It feels like I'm living in a game world with NPCs around me who don't react to anything I do. If that were true, I'd give it a rating of [1/10]. No magic, no dragons, no kingdoms, and no THRILL whatsoever!
Oh yeah, speaking of thrills… just a while ago I was speeding at full throttle on my motorcycle to get some sensation.
You know what happened after that?
Suddenly a truck swerved into my lane. That's the last thing I remember before everything went dark like now.
Seems like I died instantly, no climax. I never thought I'd die like this.
Well, forget that. What's more important now… my head suddenly throbs violently as if a nail is being slowly hammered into my skull.
That pounding is constantly tormenting my head. So much so that I regret the reckless thing I did earlier…
…Well, at least for a moment, because now a weird holographic screen suddenly appears in front of me–
==
[Welcome to Eternal Saga]
[Soul synchronization to body: 10…50…70…100%]
[Memory inheritance: total failure]
[Brain has suffered severe damage]
[You have one chance to perform regeneration]
[Do you wish to activate regeneration?]
[OK ]> or < [NO]
===
Even though my head is throbbing like crazy, I can still think rationally. Technology on Earth can still produce holographic screens like this. So why is this in front of me?
Besides… there's a word I really recognize from that holographic screen: Eternal Saga.
Of course, that's the title of my own novel. Remembering it makes me chuckle. Speaking of which, before my accident, I was just arguing with readers in the comments.
They were commenting about my MC being too OP and having ridiculous plot armor that makes no sense. Then there were also comments about my writing style being like a sixteen-year-old kid's. Which is true.
Those negative reviews completely drowned out the positive ones.
Of course, I deleted each and every one of those negative comments and reviews. But don't think it's because I can't accept suggestions and criticism, okay?
As an author, of course I have to accept them, right? It's just that I don't like the way they… they criticize me as if my novel has to match what they want. It ruins the scenery of my novel.
Oh come on. Do you think I write for you guys to make money? I don't need it. I just want to try something new.
Oh yeah, the pain in my head has now started to subside after I touched the word–[OK]–on the holographic screen.
Ah, what a relief.
A moment later I finally manage to open my eyes.
I find myself in a hospital room with my head bandaged up to cover one eye.
But something feels off, my hand doesn't feel like mine, and also, with that speed, there's no way my injuries are only on my head, right?
When I reach for a mirror, what appears there isn't my own face. Instead, it's a handsome pale-skinned man, not sun-kissed, yet soft, but with sharp eyebrows and slightly sunken cheeks. His eyes are ocean blue. That man's head is bandaged, but a few strands of jet-black hair peek out from underneath.
For a moment I thought it was someone else, so I looked around for him. But turns out he's mimicking my every move. That man is me.
It sounds weird, but it seems I've Transmigrated.
Of course, calling this a dream is impossible. I can feel all my senses clearly and the throbbing in my head still hurts. Everything feels real.
"Julian, you're awake?"
From the doorway, a beautiful woman with jet-black hair tied in a ponytail and blue eyes like mine appears. She's wearing a fancy gray dress.
Julian? Who's that? Before I can think further, that woman suddenly does something completely unexpected–
She hugs me. Hugs me tightly.
"Ah, miss–"
"I thought I was going to lose you, big brother. Forgive me for always being so busy." She cuts off my words and starts crying on my shoulder.
Now I understand the situation. However, I don't know what to do because I've never been hugged before. So I just stay still waiting for this woman to calm down.
A short while later, a doctor comes in and tells the woman, whose name turns out to be Claire, not to hug her younger brother just yet—me—because apparently my head just suffered a heavy impact and is very fragile.
Speaking of impacts, I now know that it turns out I've entered my own novel inside the body of a character who was supposed to die in the early chapters to show that this world is dangerous: Julian Von Adler.
The head injury, new body, and unfamiliar woman now all make perfect sense.
Wow, is this a blessing?
No matter how you look at it, this is a blessing, right? What are the chances that someone can enter their own self-written novel? Almost zero. Maybe I'm the only one who can.
Well, of course, it's because I'm surely the chosen one for it.
Alright then, in this second life, I have to get something I couldn't get in my old world. That's why I'm here, right? God gave me a second chance to conquer this fantasy world.
Speaking of which, I've returned home because the doctor told Claire that my wound is regenerating quickly (they don't know where that regeneration came from), so I'm allowed to go home.
The first day and the next few days, I stay home and just pace around mapping out all the places in this big castle-like mansion. That's right, here I'm a noble, but a noble at the lowest rank, with Claire as the head of the family because our parents have passed away.
Oh, don't think I'm lazy just because I'm just wandering around the house. Of course not. I also want to train my skills in magic and swordsmanship, but Claire is very protective of me. I'm only allowed in the library for one hour, and after that I have to rest. So, for training, I have to do it in secret.
"Sister, I'm not a child anymore." I say one day when Claire locks the library for the umpteenth time.
"To me, you're still a child." Claire strokes my hair gently while smiling.
Honestly, I've never been treated like this before, not even by my own parents, so I feel a little happy. Just a little.
Going back to the past, my parents' relationship had been under constant tension for nearly a decade with no light at the end of the tunnel. The reason they still held on despite that was because of money. Their relationship felt transactional.
The victim of that prolonged tension was me, their only child.
I still remember when I was seven years old, I made a crayon drawing. A landscape picture. Mountains, rice fields, the sun. Just ordinary, like an elementary school kid's drawing. But I was so proud. I put it on the fridge, hoping Mom would see it when she opened the fridge to get a drink.
A week later, that drawing was still in the same spot.
I don't know if Mom saw it or not. What I do know is that not a single word came out of her mouth about that drawing.
When I was twelve, I won first place in the city-level science olympiad. I placed the trophy on the dining table. So that when Dad came home late and ate dinner alone, he'd see it.
The next day, that trophy had already been moved by the maid to my room. The maid said, "I'm sorry, Young Master, Madam said don't put it on the dining table, it makes it hard to put down plates."
When I was fifteen, I wrote my first short story. A story about an orphan who finally gets adopted by a wealthy family. Mom read it. Dad read it—after the maid nagged him to. They said, "Good job, Son."
Two words.
It didn't take long for me to realize they hadn't read it all the way through.
Now I've left them completely.
What do you think their reaction to my death was? Sad enough to cry? Regret? Or still indifferent? Whatever it is, I don't know and I'll never know. I can only hope they use my death as a lesson so they don't repeat the same thing with any future children.
Now I have a new family that cares about me, even if she is an Extra. I'm happy. But if Claire keeps forbidding me from doing things, it's starting to get annoying. She's stopping me from conquering this fantasy world.
But of course, I won't give up just because of that. I have to achieve my ambition. So, I train in magic and swordsmanship in secret.
Oh yeah, every time I train, I always have a fixed audience. She's a very cute seven-year-old girl who also happens to be my little sister, Vivienne.
"Vivi look." I conjure fire from my hand while grinning wide.
Vivienne's eyes sparkle with joy. "You're amazing, big brother."
That's our agreement. Vivienne is allowed to watch me use magic, and in return, she has to keep it a secret from Claire that I'm training in secret.
Before I knew it, three weeks had passed.
Claire, realizing that I've fully recovered, decides to leave home to continue her clothing business in the imperial capital.
"Bye, Julian, please take care of Vivienne. Oh, and don't do anything reckless again." She gives me a quick hug, then walks over to my little sister and crouches down to her level.
She kisses Vivienne's forehead as my sister's eyes well up. "Take good care of yourself."
"W-when will you be back, sister?"
"Not long, I'll be back next week, I promise."
Seeing my little sister tear up and about to cry, I walk up behind her and grab both her shoulders, then crouch down and whisper in her ear, "Relax, Vivi, you still have me and Aunt Maria here, right?" I bring my lips closer to her ear to whisper even more quietly so only she and I can hear. "Since big sister is leaving, I can teach you magic."
"R-really?"
"Sshh." I tell her to be quiet.
"Hmm, what are you two whispering about?" Claire eyes us suspiciously. "Well, whatever, as long as Vivi isn't crying anymore."
A few minutes later, Claire gets into her classic car and leaves while waving.
'Finally, I'm free!' I nearly jump for joy.
Now I need to find power because in a week I'll be entering the Magic Academy, which is the main plot of my story.
As the Author, of course I know how to get it easily. Take all the monsters, items, and cheats belonging to the MC in Amberwood Forest.
In this case, I'll admit that my novel's readers were right (Happy now, huh?). The MC was too OP. So, I need to take some or maybe… all of his possessions. Of course, it's for balance.
Right now, I have to get ready. I've been in this world for three weeks, which means many chapters have already progressed. So, it's possible that today is the day the MC will also go to Amberwood Forest to take the cheat.