A Lucky Day (Transmigration)
"Oh. It's up."
A new post had appeared in the announcements of the café's notice board — the little green window I kept open on my second monitor.
The moment I spotted it, my mouse was already clicking.
What unfolded before me was a perfectly ordinary greeting, a list of minor patch notes, and — the reason my heart had jumped — a new character announcement.
"A new character release… wait, another limited banner? I get that you're desperate for money, but give it a rest already."
I grumbled as I skimmed through the character's basic info.
Look, I understood that the company needed to make money. But at some point they'd stopped releasing 3- and 4-stars entirely — even ordinary, non-limited 5-stars had vanished from the schedule.
Sure, the power creep on these limited characters was absolutely insane, but that's what makes a limited character limited, isn't it? There was a pity system, technically, but filling the pity bar without opening your wallet was flat-out impossible. And even pulling normally gave you a 0.1% rate. Zero shame.
"Haaah… low spenders like me are just supposed to die, huh. Whatever. Let's at least look at the kit."
Ridiculous pull rates or not, curiosity was curiosity. Even if I couldn't use her — him? — I'd want to theorycraft how the meta would shift.
I scrolled down to check the new character's ability.
"Let's see… innate ability: Illusion…? Hold on, he's a guy?"
They'd apparently figured out that catering to the tastes of shut-in neckbeards was profitable, because for a while now they'd been releasing nothing but new heroines. And now, for once, the new character was male.
Curious about the reaction, I checked the comments — and sure enough, there were already a few people whining about why it wasn't a girl.
"Oh come on, some guy characters should show up too. The game's turning into pure waifu-bait."
Not that I cared. Honestly, the endless parade of heroines had started to wear on me too.
Anyway, I scrolled back up and gave the half-read ability a proper look this time.
"Illusion, huh…"
From what I could tell, it was an ability that disrupted the enemy's vision or inflicted fake status conditions. And that was just the obvious stuff — the potential applications looked practically limitless.
It could even shut down sound-based play styles… and if he messes with someone's eyesight in close range and then carves them up? That'd be busted as hell.
As a limited character, his base stats were guaranteed to be through the roof, so with decent hands behind the controls, he'd perform absurdly well.
I'd bet good money this guy was about to run roughshod over the salty, sweaty world of 1v1 ranked PvP.
"Ugh…"
Imagining the ranking board about to be wallpapered with this new face, I closed the notice and quietly clicked the icon labeled Union Academy.
I was a 1v1 fanatic and a ranked player myself, after all. Of course I wanted to pull him.
"Better start hoarding currency."
My reserves were already stuffed full in anticipation of this exact release — but knowing just how deranged this game's monetization had become, even that felt painfully thin.
Worst case, the wallet was coming out. Still, grinding a little now meant my bank account stayed a little safer. Simple math.
With a sigh, I started hammering away at the keyboard.
Three days later, the Union Academy update finally went live.
The instant maintenance ended, I was logged in, firing up the game without even a token attempt to hide my pounding heart.
—Ta-da-ran~♪
Union Academy booted up to its usual cheerful jingle.
Despite all my complaining, there I was, waiting impatiently for the game to load with my stomach doing somersaults.
The main screen appeared. I'd checked "Don't show for a day" while playing in the early hours yesterday, so no attendance rewards or ad pop-ups cluttered the screen.
Instead, exactly one pop-up awaited me.
Lucian of Illusion — Now Available!
I clicked that button without a second's hesitation.
"Okay… here we go. Gods, please…"
Standing before the summon screen, I prayed to the empty air.
Yes, it was a ridiculous thing to do for an avowed nonbeliever. But understand: I was that nervous.
I'd half-assed every previous new release — they weren't dedicated 1v1 specialists, so I'd skipped them all. This time was different. I'd failed every single banner so far, so by any reasonable standard of karma, the universe owed me one good pull here. Right?
So thinking, I moved my mouse.
The cursor hovered over three buttons: Summon x1, Summon x10, Summon x100.
Summon x1.
The so-called "tribute offering." I'm not normally the superstitious type — but this time, I was desperate enough to indulge.
Spending one of my hoarded, painstakingly accumulated summon tickets, I clicked.
The instant I did —
Flaaaaaaash—
"…?!"
The screen flooded with brilliant light.
Wait. Wait wait wait. This was the animation that only played for a 5-star.
While I sat there frozen like an idiot, the screen carried on without me, and there he was — the silver-haired youth with those sharp, feline eyes, staring straight back at me.
"Uh…"
I could do nothing but gape for a good long while.
Even after I came back to my senses, I kept turning my head this way and that, staring at the screen over and over.
Nothing changed. The silver-haired boy just stared back at me like I was some kind of idiot.
"Y-YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!!"
I finally lost it, kicking my chair back as I shot to my feet and screamed.
"THIS is what a real game looks like!! I love you, Union Academy, you beautiful sons of—!!"
FLASH!
Light erupted around me, and I felt my whole body lock solid, still mid-celebration, standing bolt upright.
"…Huh?"
That one stupid syllable was the last thing I ever said in the real world.
"…Unbelievable."
Words not unlike the ones from moments ago spilled out of my mouth.
"Crazy. This is crazy, crazy, what the actual f—…"
Though needless to say, the sentiment was now the exact opposite.
It had to be.
"…How is this even possible?"
I muttered, staring blankly at the boy reflected in the mirror.
Light grey hair. Sharp, cat-like eyes with just a hint of violet shimmering in the irises. A striking, cool-featured face atop a tall, lean frame.
The boy who had been meeting my gaze from a computer screen mere minutes ago was now inside the mirror.
Warily, I raised a hand and pinched my cheek — and the boy in the mirror pinched his at exactly the same moment.
"Good grief."
Somewhere along the way, I had apparently been possessed — sucked straight into the game.