When the Sub-Male Lead Turned into a Grandmother
"Use our grandson however you like!"
With that permission, Mage Tower Lord Decaron left the lab without a shred of hesitation. The firmly closing door sounded to Asrion like a death sentence.
Ha, Grandfather! How can you just abandon me like this!
Asrion whipped around, his face drained of color. He had to open that door and run right now. But before he could even take a single step—
Snap.
Professor Ash, who had been buried deep in the sofa, lightly flicked her finger. Her ash-gray eyes gleamed with the fervor of a fanatic utterly possessed.
"Hold."
Whoosh—!
Ash-gray mana rose from the floor in an instant, coiling around Asrion's entire body. His form was hurled onto the plush sofa like a prisoner bound in ropes.
"Mmph! Mmmph!"
Even his lips were sealed by the mana, leaving only beastly groans trapped inside.
Professor Ash approached and patted Asrion's shoulder with a chilling whisper.
"Don't worry, Asrion. Tomorrow's first class is my welcome to illusion magic, after all. Sleep soundly here until morning, and I'll wake you myself."
Her voice was endlessly gentle, but her gaze wasn't that of someone looking at a person. It was the wicked stare of a sorceress eyeing a fresh, sturdy lab rat.
Rian was no different.
Bound to the sofa, Asrion felt utter terror under their gazes.
N-No way... That con artist commoner isn't the only black mage— this ash-haired professor bitch is in on it too?!
Despairing delusions exploded through Asrion's mind at terrifying speed. The academy was the secret lair of a massive black magic cartel that had even fooled the Mage Tower Lord. He was the tragic genius sacrificed to their horrific plot—a pitiful self-justification.
Just then, Vesperia glanced out the window at the deepening night, let out a long yawn, and stood.
"Yaaawn~ Rian, see you in class tomorrow morning! I'm off to bed. Good night, Professor~"
"Yeah, night."
"I'll head out too. See you tomorrow, Professor Ash."
"Yes, sleep well, Princess."
Ardelia rose as well. Vesperia waved cheerfully at Asrion, who lay trembling on the sofa.
"Rest well, Asrion!"
A greeting utterly free of malice, bright and innocent as ever. But to the bound Asrion, it tore his heart apart with injustice.
Someone stop them! These crazy demons are gonna torture me!
Asrion's desperate inner plea went unheard. The two girls left the lab peacefully with their spirits, Blackie and Brightie.
The door closed, and silence blanketed the room once more.
"Whew."
Rian leaned back in his chair, swiping through the holographic monitors floating in the air as he rolled his neck.
The ultra-efficient infinite power of a 5-Circle Penteract. Thanks to its overwhelming circulation, he was free of physical and mental fatigue.
A workaholic's thick smile crept across Rian's lips.
"Alright, now that they're gone, time to test that new VR map I just whipped up all night?"
Rian muttered happily, manipulating the rune letters in the air.
"I cranked the time acceleration way up, so have a long, fun time in there."
"Mmmph! Mmph!!!"
Asrion paled and shook his head desperately.
I don't need it! Save me!
He wanted to scream, but the hold spell crushed his mouth shut mercilessly.
Ignoring Asrion's thrashing, Rian impassively uttered the startup command toward the transparent dome-shaped server.
"Dive."
Whoosh—!
Blue mana tendrils shot from the dome, slicing through the air before stabbing precisely into Asrion's forehead.
In that instant, Asrion's consciousness was sucked into an endless black abyss without a chance to resist.
* * *
"Urgh…."
Asrion regained consciousness in a clearing in some unfamiliar forest. The first thing to assault his nerves was the acrid stench stabbing his nose.
The greasy smell of burning butter. The sticky, cloying reek of melting sugar filled his lungs.
Where am I? Another one of that bastard's evil illusions!
Asrion grimaced in disgust and tried to rise.
Crack! Pop!
"Aaaagh!"
The moment he moved, a tearing sound like bones dislocating echoed from his knees and back. A hoarse scream burst from his throat at the unprecedented agony.
He hurriedly looked down at his hands—and his eyes bulged in horror.
W-What the hell is this!
They were no longer the pale, smooth hands of a 13-year-old noble raised in the Mage Tower. Dark age spots mottled the bony backs. The skin was dehydrated and shriveled, the finger joints grotesquely swollen and crooked.
The hideous body of a sickly old woman well past 70.
Even his vision was severely blurred, the world a hazy fog.
What happened to my body! Why has my flesh turned into this old hag!
Asrion flailed in shock, but the body refused his commands. He had completely lost control of this repulsive elderly form.
Trapped inside someone else's body, forced to watch a play from a perfect first-person observer view.
Locked in cinematic mode, moving only by the tutorial script Rian had implanted.
Move! Move, damn it!
Asrion screamed internally, but the body followed the script to the letter.
The problem was the sensations. No control, but the throbbing pain in the arthritic joints, the artificial sweetness burning his nose, the sticky nausea crawling through his veins—all synchronized at 100%, slamming into his brain.
Rustle.
Rustle.
Someone approached through the underbrush on the forest path.
The old woman's body straightened its hunched back with a creak and turned creakily toward the sound.
Who's there?
Through his dim vision, two young children emerged—blond hair, blue eyes, straight out of a fairy tale siblings.
But Asrion gasped inwardly upon recognizing their faces.
Wait... those kids...
They were the rookies from that morning's Diamond Class who had raised hands for 1-Circle. Hansel and Gretel, was it? That vile commoner must have modeled them after real classmates for this illusion.
Then, against his will, the witch's body he inhabited grinned with a grotesque lip-curling smirk.
"Ehehehehe."
The chilling witch's cackle echoed from his own vocal cords.
"Poor little lost children."
Asrion despaired at his voice.
No! Why am I spouting this trashy crap! Shut your trap, you mouth!
He raged inside, tears of blood in his mind, but the cords kept going.
The witch's body beckoned the kids with crooked fingers.
"Doesn't my house look delicious? Come in and eat your fill of grandma's muffins and candy. So sweet and soft."
Each line brought a thick residue of refined sugar flooding his mouth, plus stabbing tooth pain from rotten gums gnawing at his sanity.
Damn it! My teeth feel like they're rotting away!
Normal kids would salivate and charge at the candy house temptation. But this VR was Rian's bizarre remix of the fairy tale source.
The ten-year-old Hansel wrinkled his nose and pinched it shut.
"Ugh, the smell. Thanks for the offer, granny, but we'll pass on the refined carbs and trans fats."
An academic rejection unbelievable from a kid that age.
"Got any arrowroot juice or warm rice milk? Stomach's empty after days in these woods. A bowl of hot scorched rice soup would do nicely."
The eight-ish Gretel gagged at the cream cake roof.
"Yeah, no thanks. Cream's too heavy, doesn't digest. No beans around here, granny? Just chop some dried radish, boil in miso water, top with rough-cut tofu—good enough."
Asrion's brain stalled.
Miso? Dried radish? Rice milk?
All alien to him.
Spouting food I've never even heard of. Must be disgusting if that evil commoner cooked it up.
As he sneered inwardly—
Against his will, the witch's body began trembling with rage. Even Asrion synced with the fury, feeling it blaze intensely.
The witch's scripted pride had been insulted.
"Y-You brats! How dare you insult my perfect candy house?!"
The witch shrieked, panting, then grabbed a pile of massive sugar-coated donuts and lunged at the kids.
Right then—
"Ah…."
Asrion's vision spun, the world whirling dizzily. Peak rage and excitement. The lifetime sugar addict witch's battered pancreas had hit its limit.
D-Dizzy... Can't breathe…!
Fatal blood sugar spikes—hyper- then hypo-glycemia. Blocked vessels, oxygen-starved brain. Vicious vertigo and cold sweat drenched him.
His heart pounded like it would burst from his chest.
"Oh dear, so dizzy…."
A weak groan escaped the witch.
Splat—!
Unable to withstand the sugar shock, the hag's body collapsed face-first onto the sticky macaron floor.
Urgh! G-Get up…!
Asrion thrashed desperately inside, but the hypoglycemic crone's flesh lacked even a finger's twitch. Only pain and nausea crushed his reason vividly.
Thud.
Thud.
Hansel and Gretel's footsteps approached the fallen Asrion.
He barely rolled his eyes up.
No fear of the witch on their faces. Instead, a horrific, mad sense of duty to save the old woman gleamed.
"Tsk tsk. Lifetime of junk food—insulin resistance at max, collapsing was inevitable."
Hansel clucked his tongue, scanning around.
"Gretel, grab that jumbo jelly worm on the fence. Gotta tie her up first."
"Yes, brother!"
Gretel dashed and dragged back the chewy worm.
They dragged the witch to a chair and bound her tight.
L-Let me go! How dare you bind the Mage Tower heir!
Asrion wailed inside, but only drool leaked out.
Done tying, Hansel crossed his arms and gazed kindly at the chair-bound Asrion.
"Don't worry, granny. We're practically grandkids—can't let an elder croak poisoned by toxins."
Hansel's blue eyes flashed with fanatic gleam.
"We'll fix you up healthy. Hellish detox starts today."
"I'll go boil some well-fermented stinky tofu first! Not great at other magic, but fermenting beans and ripening miso? Piece of cake!"
Gretel chirped brightly, dashing to the huge iron cauldron.
The siblings' health obsession madness. Hell was raising its curtain.