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It all started with a deal with a God. And next thing... i was here... in another world, deceived and made and burdened with this fate. I was going to die. BUT... I don't want to die.
"Welcome to the Guardian Academy," the voice boomed across the assembly hall.
"This venerable institution is not a sanctuary for the faint-hearted," she continued. "Here, you will face challenges that defy comprehension, adversities that will either shatter you or forge you into something extraordinary. Among the students of this Academy, there exist only two categories: the Exceptional and the Forgotten."
"You stand here today not because you have proven yourselves worthy, but because you have been granted a rare opportunity—a chance to justify the seat you now occupy,"
"Many of you have arrived through favors, lineage, or sheer fortune. Let me assure you, none of those will sustain you for long. Here, merit reigns supreme."
"In one month, the preliminary evaluations will determine your fate within this esteemed institution. Prepare wisely, for your actions will dictate the course of your lives. May fortune favor the diligent."
....
....
An hour later, I was walking down the corridor, taking my time and observing the controlled chaos around me. Students clustered in groups, already forming their little hierarchies and alliances. The smart ones were networking. The desperate ones were panicking. The rich ones were... well, being rich and assuming that would be enough.
I'd made a conscious choice with my uniform—regulation blazer and trousers, but I'd skipped the tie and vest. Not exactly how I would normally dress up, more like... strategic nonconformity. Stand out just enough to seem confident, and enough to avoid those who prey on the weak looking.
Theoretically sound. In practice...
"Hey."
The voice cut through my thoughts. I stopped and looked up to find a student lounging on the staircase like he owned the place, flanked by what I could only describe as discount muscle. The classic predator setup: one alpha, several betas, all looking for someone to remind them they weren't at the bottom of the food chain.
Even when I try to blend in, I still scream 'easy target,' don't I?
[What did you expect? You think dressing down disguises weakness?]
The voice in my head had impeccable timing, as always. Not now, I told it.
I'm trying to think my way out of this without complicating things.
"I said, come here," the kid commanded, standing up with the kind of swagger that suggested he'd never been told 'no' in his life.
I tilted my head, the best thing to do now was the show them I wasn't afraid... I hope. "And why exactly should I do that?"
The question seemed to surprise him.
Good.
[Brilliant. Poke the hornet's nest. That'll work.]
I'm not poking anything. I'm trying to be smart here annoying bastard.
"Oh, you've got nerve," the leader said, and his lackeys started moving closer. "Do you think acting aloof will make you less of a target?"
Actually, yes, that had been the plan. Clearly, that's not working.
Just how the hell do they even know I am weak?
Before I could realize it, one of the lackeys grabbed my shoulder. "You don't know your place, do you?" he hissed, right before his fist introduced itself to my ribs.
The punch knocked the wind out of me, and I doubled over.
"Do you even know who I am?!" the leader bellowed, apparently missing the irony that he'd never actually introduced himself.
"Boss," one of his minions said, squinting at something on my wrist. "He's... Level 1."
Oh. no.
That explained the sudden shift in their expressions.
Damn this piece of junk, I thought, glaring at the device on my wrist. Of all the times for it to display my Level...
The silence stretched for exactly three seconds before one of them started laughing. "Level 1? Those still exist?"
We do indeed, I thought grimly.
The leader's expression twisted into something uglier. "A Level 1 dared to act bold in front of me?" He walked closer, and his followers parted like he was Moses and they were a very stupid sea. "Teach him a lesson. And take every point he has."
I kept my head down, realizing I was fucked from the moment they called me, and I was also calculating. How many ways could this go wrong? at some point the math wasn't mathing anymore.
FUCKED was the word.
[This is your chance. Merge with it already.]
No.
I know what comes with that power.
I am not ready for it.
"Tsk." The leader clicked his tongue with the disappointment. "I was in a good mood today. Would've gone easy on you—taken maybe a hundred points. But now? You'll regret ever stepping foot in this Academy."
They worked me over with the enthusiasm of people who'd found a socially acceptable outlet for their insecurities. I didn't scream. Didn't beg. Partly out of pride, partly because I knew it would only encourage them, and partly because I was too busy calculating how long it would take to heal from each individual injury.
As consciousness started slipping away, one thought crystallized in my mind with perfect clarity:
I really, genuinely hate this place.
...
...
I woke up to the aesthetic ambiance of cold tile against my cheek and the lingering taste of my own blood.
Pushing myself upright took more effort than I cared to admit, and my body's protest was both immediate and comprehensive. Everything hurt. Everything.
"Great," I muttered, checking my Metawatch.
Zero points.
'Merciless fuckers'
The hallway was empty now, dark except for the emergency lighting that cast everything in sickly green shadows. Night had fallen while I'd been taking my impromptu nap, which meant I'd missed curfew.
I laughed, because the alternative was screaming, and that seemed like a waste of energy I couldn't afford. "Perfect. Just perfect."
The really fascinating part was that dozens of students had walked past me while I was being beaten. I'd been conscious enough to hear some of them. Not one had stopped. Not one had even slowed down.
[You're being foolish. How long will you keep letting your emotions control you? Merge with it already and stop this stupidity.]
I told you no, I replied silently. And I meant it.
The voice faded, leaving me with the sound of my own breathing and the distant hum of the building's systems. I leaned back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling and trying to find the humor in my situation.
I'd rest here a little longer, then figure out my next move. After all, I had nowhere else to be, and the floor was surprisingly comfortable once you got used to it.
Besides, I added with a wry smile, things can only go up from here.
Right?
A/N- the first volume would be annoying for some readers since MC is very weak and obsessed with his quest at first, but i promise, it gets better.
