Adaptation (1)

Once I'd gotten a rough grasp of the situation, the first thing I did was simple.

"...Status window."

That's what I called out into thin air.

It was a last-ditch gamble, really — a desperate grasp at the final possibility, muttered with a "no way, no way" under my breath.

Ding—

As if to mock my earnest hope, a system window shimmering with blue light appeared and filled my entire field of vision.

"Haha..."

After confirming that much, I stepped away from the mirror — and promptly collapsed face-first onto the bed behind me. The status window that had appeared made it painfully clear: this place was inside the game, and it was telling me, in no uncertain terms, to quit denying reality and just accept it.

I had no choice but to swallow the despair welling up inside me.

"No, seriously — how the hell did this even happen?"

Another question surfaced. Sure, I was a fossil of a player who'd been grinding Union Academy nonstop since the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠day the servers opened, but there were plenty of players like me. And people who spent more money than me? Even more of those.

Wait... did they drag me over here because I didn't spend money?

Given how money-crazed the developers were, I couldn't rule it out.

Come to think of it, I have been posting a lot lately, too.

After all, I'd been uploading daily threads on the official forum tearing into the devs for letting their greed ruin the game.

Not that any of it seemed like sufficient reason. And after turning it over and over in my head, I decided there wasn't much point hunting for ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a "why" behind something that had already happened, and gave up on the question.

"...Status window."

Before long I dragged myself upright and cautiously summoned the status window again. There was one place in particular my gaze went.

The small set of parentheses beside my name. Those two characters within it: Lv1.

I stared at them and muttered under my breath.

"If I'm level 1... I guess I have to run the tutorial?"

Like any game worth its salt, Union Academy required you to develop a newly pulled character before throwing them into PvP. And in this particular game, that development process was the story mode.

You pulled a new character, progressed through the academy storyline to raise their level, farmed skills and equipment, and only then deployed them into PvP.

Needless to say, I'd been transmigrated into this body the moment the character was pulled — still sitting at level 1. So, working under the assumption that this world really did mirror the game, I'd soon have to run story mode myself.

And once that thought clicked into place, I felt a small flicker of confidence.

"Story mode is my specialty."

Union Academy had a genuinely excellent story mode. Excellent enough that you could've stripped it out, packaged it as its own game, and it still would've sold well.

But as long as PvP existed, player attention inevitably gravitated toward it. So despite the stellar quality, interest in the PvE story mode gradually cooled, until it ended up treated as little more than a tutorial — a tedious grind for gear-farming. And since story mode's playtime was far from negligible, it earned plenty of groans from the playerbase.

The result? The developers introduced a Skip feature — letting players bypass the story mode entirely, leveling their characters and learning skills straight away.

You still had to farm equipment on your own, but since it slashed character development time down to a fraction, the feature was wildly popular.

"The problem is, that feature costs real money."

As a bottom-tier dolphin among dolphins — barely spending a cent — I refused to sacrifice my hard-earned cash to the money-grubbing devs, so I'd ground through story mode the honest way to raise my characters. And as a result, when it came to story mode, I had become one of the most seasoned veterans in all of Union Academy.

In other words: a situation tailor-made for building confidence.

"Mm-hmm."

I set my oddly buoyant mood aside and briefly reviewed what I knew about story mode.

A story set against the backdrop of Union Academy, a multinational coalition educational institution. The player's chosen character becomes the protagonist of that story — growing stronger at the academy and holding back the war with the invading demons.

By the setting, one year remained until war with the demons broke out, and the player had to raise their character as much as possible within that window and capture the architect of the war — the Demon King. A clichéd premise, if ever there was one.

Ding—

As I mulled over story mode — mentally mapping out where to farm endgame gear — a strange sound interrupted my thoughts. It was the exact sound effect that played when a notification window popped up in-game.

The sound snapped me out of my reverie, and I lifted my head to look straight ahead.

"...What is this?"

And then I stared blankly at the message floating before me, reading it through line by line.

"...A return ticket?"

My blank reading stopped cold at that word. I shook my head once to clear it, then read the reward section again. And again.

"Return... Right. I have to go back."

Reading the message dredged up a fact I'd briefly forgotten: this place was inside the game, and I needed to get back to reality.

Come to think of it, I'd been at a loss, since there seemed to be no way back at all. But now a path had been laid out for me.

"...Alright. Let's do this, then."

With that resolve, I clenched my fist tight.

I had no idea who the hell had dropped me into this place, but I would clear this story and go home — that much was certain.

Story mode was my specialty, after all.

"Status window."

Mind made up, I summoned the status window once more. What I wanted to check was my stats.

"High. Really high."

Considering that the base stats of a typical 5-star character in Union Academy averaged just a hair over 15, these numbers were shamelessly high for another 5-star — mine towered over them all.

That was entirely thanks to the developers, who made every limited banner character blatantly overpowered to squeeze wallets dry.

Normally I'd grind my teeth at the new, balance-shattering arrivals, but right now? I was nothing but grateful.

My motivation burning even hotter, I next checked my Innate Ability.

Characters in Union Academy were developed along standard builds — swordsman, mage, healer, and so on — but each of them also carried one unique innate ability.

Everything from basic ones that raised strength or agility, to cheat-tier powers like Stealth or Dispel.

Naturally, the higher a character's rarity, the better their ability — and how skillfully you leveraged that ability in combat was the single biggest factor separating good players from great ones.

And Lucian's ability — a limited banner, brand-new character, 5-star and all — was Illusion.

I didn't need to see it to know it was broken, and I had a rough idea ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of what it did. But skipping the detailed description was never an option.

When I pressed the word Illusion on the status window, a new panel popped up, bearing a brief explanation.

An extremely concise description — but as they say, good things need little embellishment. The stench of broken game design hit me the moment I laid eyes on it.

"Hold on — I thought 'Illusion' just meant making people see things."

It could make them smell things? Feel pain?

This was beyond anything I'd imagined. I had no idea how it would translate to affecting other characters in-game, but there was no doubt it'd be powerful. And here, where everything had become reality, it would perform even better.

"Wait — does this work on me, too?"

The urge to test it right this second took hold, and I turned the ability on myself.

So how do I actually use it?

That worry didn't last long. For whatever reason, handling mana and the ability came as naturally as moving my fingers.

And then—

Ding—

Sssaaa—

"Whoaaa..."

The instant I conjured the thought, my vision warped slightly. I pictured a series of images in my head, and before long they spread out before my eyes as if they'd become reality.

"So it does work on me."

I didn't stop at sight — I tested the other senses too. Soon the room was filled with a sweet fragrance, and the sounds of cooking drifted through the air.

"...And last of all, pain."

With the other experiments done, I imagined a needle pricking my fingertip. And then—

Ouch!

"Ah!"

A sharp sting flared in my finger. I hadn't manipulated my vision, so there was no blood — but the sensation was vivid to an almost alarming degree.

Rubbing my fingertip, I dispelled the illusion. Just that single manipulation of pain had drained a noticeable chunk of my mana.

So pain takes a heavy mana toll.

Made sense, though. If you could spam something like that without limit, it'd be way too broken. And more than that — as I'd just experienced firsthand, this was reality now.

I figured that once my Illusion matured, I could drive pain feedback up to its absolute limit and quite literally shock an enemy to death.

"Holy shit, that's seriously busted?"

Come to think of it, that's basically an instant-kill skill.

A chill ran up my spine. I raised a hand, pinched my own cheek, and stretched it out slowly.

Balance-wrecking little bastard.

"Ahem."

After wasting a good while stretching my cheek like an idiot, I finally climbed off the bed. The situation assessment was more or less done — I couldn't sit around here forever.

"This place... an inn, huh."

On closer inspection, it looked like a shabby boarding lodge — the standard starting point of story mode.

Which meant the academy's entrance exam would be starting before long.

"I should loosen up my body before that, though."

In the game, you could pass the entrance exam regardless of your score, but this was reality — anything could happen. I'd need to get used to this new body anyway, so better to prepare for the exam in advance.

I slipped on my shoes and stepped outside.