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I Can Gain Power From the Novel's I've Read

Reo Carter, a book-loving teenager and typical NEET, wakes up in a mysterious world filled with magic and mystic powers. Despite everyone else being able to use magic, Reo discovers he's the only human unable to do so. Feeling depressed, he finds himself in a dire situation suddenly becoming a damsel in distress. Due to an incident with a demon he discovered that he has the power to jump into the world of novel's he read before and use the power he gain from the novel. Join Reo as he wrecked havoc upon the world.

MercuryDrone · Fantasía
Sin suficientes valoraciones
31 Chs

Back Home Part 1

Chapter 26 : Back Home

My eyes flutter open, and I'm greeted by the ceiling of an unfamiliar room. Morning light seeps through the curtains, casting soft shadows across the space. I blink, trying to make sense of my surroundings.

Sitting up slowly, I feel the soft, familiar comfort of a well-worn quilt sliding off me. The room looks strangely familiar: posters of my favorite games and book series adorn the walls, my desk is cluttered with stacks of books, gaming magazines, and various consoles. My custom-built computer hums quietly in the corner, its LED lights softly glowing. I blink again, trying to clear my mind.

Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I stand up, my feet sinking into the soft carpet. I take a deep breath, and the comforting scent of home—laundry detergent and a hint of my mom's cooking—fills my nostrils. The familiarity is overwhelming, yet my mind struggles to comprehend it.

Walking over to my desk, I notice a framed photo of my family. My parents, with their warm smiles, and my little sister, with her mischievous grin, stare back at me. I pick up the photo, a flood of emotions washing over me. I've missed them so much.

Setting the photo back down, I glance around the room. Everything is just as I remember it, down to the smallest detail. Shelves filled with novels, manga, and game collectibles line the walls.

"Rio! Breakfast is ready!" my mom's voice calls from downstairs.

Tears well up in my eyes as I hear her voice. The sound is like a balm to my soul, comforting and real. I've longed for this, but my confusion is overwhelming. How did I end up here? Was it all just a dream?

"Rio, are you up?" my mom calls again, a note of concern in her voice.

"Yeah, Mom! I'm coming!" I reply, my voice cracking with emotion.

I quickly change out of my pajamas and head downstairs. As I descend, the sight of my mom bustling around the kitchen, making pancakes, brings a smile to my face. It's so normal, so comforting.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," she greets me with a kiss on the cheek. "I made your favorite—pancakes with blueberries."

"Thanks, Mom," I say, my voice choked with gratitude. I sit down at the table, the familiar sounds and smells of home grounding me in this moment.

As I eat, I look around the kitchen. The details, the warmth, the love—it's all so real. The realization hits me slowly, like dawn breaking over the horizon. This is my home. I'm back on Earth again.

I can't shake the feeling that I'm living in two worlds. The fantasy realm and my life here on Earth are intertwined in my mind, and I wonder what brought me back.

But for now, I decide to savor this moment, to enjoy this warmth. The questions can wait. Right now, I'm home.

"Good to see you up early for a change," my dad says as he walks into the kitchen, straightening his tie. He's already dressed in his sharp suit, ready for another day at the law firm.

"Morning, Dad," I say with a smile, swallowing a bite of pancake. "Big case today?"

"Always," he replies with a wink. "But nothing I can't handle. How about you, champ? Any plans for today?"

I shrug, trying to hide the whirlwind of confusion and emotions still swirling inside me. "Not really. Might catch up on some reading or gaming."

 "Morning honey, I'm off to the hospital soon, keep our kids company while you're still here."

"Okay," Dad said as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

"Mom, do we have any more of those muffins you made?" My little sister, Rhea, asks as she bounces into the kitchen, her school uniform slightly askew and her backpack slung over one shoulder.

"In the pantry, Rhea," Mom replies with a smile. "And don't forget to grab a piece of fruit as well."

Rhea, always the energetic one, darts to the pantry and emerges with a muffin and an apple. She plops down next to me, giving me a curious look. "You're up early," she says, echoing Dad's earlier comment. "Something wrong?"

"Just felt like getting up," I say, ruffling her hair playfully. "How's school?"

She groans dramatically. "It's okay, I guess. We have a math test today, which I'm not looking forward to."

"You'll do great," I assure her. "Just remember to stay calm and take your time."

Dad chuckles as he takes a sip of his coffee. "Always the reassuring big brother, aren't you, Rio?"

"I try," I say with a grin, feeling a deep sense of warmth and belonging. This is what I missed—these little moments of family life.

Mom sips her coffee and looks at me thoughtfully. "Rio, have you thought about what you want to do after high school? Maybe something in music or game design?"

I pause, considering her question. The memories of my other life, clash with the reality of this moment. "I'm not sure yet," I admit. "There are so many possibilities."

"Well, whatever you choose, we'll support you," Dad says, clapping a hand on my shoulder. "You've got a good head on your shoulders."

"Thanks, Dad," I say, feeling a surge of gratitude for my parents' unwavering support.

Rhea rushed out the door, backpack slung over her shoulder. "I'm off to school! See you later!"

"Have a great day, honey!" Mom called after her. "Don't forget your homework!"

As the front door clicked shut, a comfortable quiet settled over the kitchen. I savored another bite of my syrup-soaked pancakes, while Dad settled into the chair across from me, cradling his steaming mug of coffee. Mom leaned against the counter, her eyes tired but warm as she watched us.

"So, Rio," Dad began, his voice tinged with curiosity, "any word from PIUT yet?"

My fork clattered against the plate as I froze mid-bite. The Pacifica Institute of Ultimate Talents – PIUT for short – was no ordinary school. It was the pinnacle of academic excellence, a place where only the most brilliant minds in the world were granted entry.

PIUT was a government-backed initiative aimed at cultivating extraordinary talent across all fields. Its mission: to create an institution that would make even Harvard look ordinary by comparison. The selection process was brutal, with an acceptance rate of just 0.01% – only 100 students chosen out of every million applicants.

An acceptance letter from PIUT was a golden ticket to instant global recognition. It promised a future where fame and fortune would come as naturally as drawing breath.

What confused me the most was that I don't remember applying to PIUT. Not at all.

Before I could voice my confusion, a sharp pain lanced through my head. I gasped, clutching my temples as a flood of memories cascaded through my mind:

Late nights hunched over application essays. Intense study sessions preparing for PIUT's notoriously difficult entrance exams. Tearful conversations with my parents about the slim chances of acceptance, but their unwavering support pushing me forward.

These recollections felt real, vivid - yet also foreign, as if they belonged to someone else.

"Rio?" Mom's concerned voice cut through the mental fog. "Are you alright? You look pale."

Dad leaned forward, his brow furrowed with worry. "Son, what's wrong? Talk to us."

I blinked, trying to reconcile the conflicting realities in my head. "I... I'm not sure," I managed to say, my voice shaky. "I had this weird moment where I couldn't remember applying to PIUT at all. And then I thought maybe this wasn't real, that I was dreaming or..."

I trailed off, not wanting to mention Edea - a place I suddenly wasn't sure existed outside my imagination.

Mom exchanged a worried glance with Dad before gently placing her hand on my forehead. "You don't feel feverish. Maybe it's just the stress? You've been under so much stress lately."

Dad nodded, though concern still etched his features. "It's a lot to process, Rio. Your mind might be playing tricks on you. Why don't you take a few deep breaths?"

As I tried to steady my breathing, the immediate confusion began to subside. The memories of applying to PIUT felt more solid now, but a lingering sense of unease remained. Something still felt off, but I couldn't quite put my finger on what.

"Yeah, you're probably right," I said, forcing a smile to reassure them. "It's just... overwhelming, I guess."

"Understandable," Dad replied, visibly relaxing. "This is a life-changing moment. Take some time to center yourself. We can talk about this later."

I nodded, grateful for the chance to gather my thoughts. My parents resumed their morning routines, casting occasional concerned glances my way, I sat quietly, sipping water and trying to make sense of what had just happened.

I pushed my half-eaten breakfast away, my phone buzzed in my pocket. With trembling hands, I pulled it out, my breath catching as I saw the sender: PIUT Admissions.

The kitchen fell silent. Mom's grip on my shoulder tightened, and Dad leaned forward, his coffee forgotten.

"It's them," I whispered, my finger hovering over the notification. This was it – the moment that could change everything. With one last deep breath, I tapped the screen, opening the email that held my future.

My eyes scanned the first line, and the world seemed to tilt on its axis.

"Dear Rio," I read aloud, my voice shaking, "We are pleased to inform you..."

I blinked, reading the words again to make sure I wasn't hallucinating. "We are pleased to inform you that you have advanced to the next stage of the PIUT selection process."

A collective gasp filled the kitchen. Mom's hand flew to her mouth, while Dad's eyes widened in disbelief.

"I... I made it to the next round," I stammered, still struggling to process the information. "They want me for an interview."

"Oh, Rio!" Mom exclaimed, pulling me into a tight hug. "That's wonderful news!"

Dad stood up, his face breaking into a proud grin. "Congratulations, son. I knew you had it in you."

As the initial shock wore off, I continued reading the email aloud:

"Your academic achievements and application have impressed our selection committee. We invite you to participate in the final stage of our admissions process: a comprehensive interview and demonstration of your exceptional talent at our campus. This interview will take place in two weeks' time.

Please note that this stage is highly selective. The interview will assess not only your intellectual capabilities but also your character, creativity, and potential for groundbreaking contributions to your field of interest."

I lowered my phone, my mind reeling. The excitement of advancing was tempered by the realization that the real challenge was yet to come.

"Two weeks," I murmured. "I have two weeks to prepare for the most important interview of my life."

Dad placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "And we'll help you every step of the way, son. This is your moment – you've worked so hard for this opportunity."

Mom nodded in agreement. "We'll start planning your preparation today. But first," she said with a gentle smile, "you should finish your breakfast. You'll need your strength for what's ahead."

I picked up my fork, trying to focus on the meal before me. Yet as I raised a bite to my lips, a series of vivid images flashed unbidden through my mind: a lush, surreal garden; a vast library with shelves reaching impossibly high; and a towering structure that seemed to pierce the very sky. The visions vanished as quickly as they had appeared, leaving me with a deep sense of unease. My skin prickled, a chill running down my spine despite the warmth of the kitchen.

The excitement of progressing in PIUT's selection process suddenly felt hollow, overshadowed by a creeping uncertainty. Unarticulated questions surfaced in my mind: Who was I, truly? Were the memories of my life and preparation for PIUT genuinely mine? And why did the name "Edea '' persistently echo in the recesses of my consciousness, feeling both foreign and achingly familiar?

Forcing myself to take another bite of breakfast, I found the food had lost its flavor. My parents' excited chatter about interview preparation sounded distant, as though coming from another room.

Caught between two realities I struggled to grasp, one thing became clear: the upcoming PIUT interview might reveal more than just my academic potential. It could hold the key to unraveling the mystery that seemed to enshroud my very identity.

I resolved to go through with it, not just for the promise of academic prestige, but in hopes of understanding the strange dissonance growing within me. Whatever lay ahead at PIUT, I had a feeling it would change my life in ways I couldn't yet imagine.