To the Arena, You Scumbag!
“To the rooftop... no, the arena! Follow me, you scumbag!”
“About this much, I guess?” After leaving the hot spring bath, I'd headed straight to the dorm management building. Using Alteration, I got myself assigned a temporary dorm room, and the moment I stepped inside, I started experimenting to figure out exactly how far my ability could go. I managed to grasp the basics.
“First, common sense alteration is just one part of Alteration’s power.”
Alteration felt all-encompassing, like it covered everything. Common sense alteration was more like a subcategory of it.
“Second, alterations outside of common sense aren't permanent.”
I confirmed that while common sense alteration stuck around forever, everything else was temporary. For example, when I lied, “My fist can smash rocks,” and the alteration kicked in, it only lasted about five minutes.
“I can just pay for that later, right?”
Thanks to that, there was a bit(?) of a hole in the wall, but I figured compensation would cover it.
“Fourth, this is a hypothesis, but personality traits changed via common sense alteration can't be changed back.”
I could probably alter perceptions again with common sense alteration, but once a personality shifted, it was locked in—that was my theory. This wasn't baseless; it came from my deep knowledge of the game and hands-on testing. Personality changes follow a vertical structure. Take Eldina Prosche: her original man-hating trait got overwritten into hard yandere obsession through my lie. Her hatred of men flipped into blind devotion toward someone specific. Normally, that kind of structural shift wouldn't happen. My Alteration made it possible, but original traits might shift in intensity up or down without changing their core structure. I thought maybe another common sense alteration could fix it, but my experiments debunked that.
“Damn spider bastard.”
I spat curses at the spider passed out in the corner of the room. It hadn't done anything wrong—it was a grateful test subject—but jumping at me was a bit much.
I'd targeted a spider on the ceiling of my temporary room and lied, “I'm your enemy,” altering its personality from fearful human to mortal foe. Normally, it would've fled in terror from people, but the alteration amplified its hostility toward me. Then I lied to it again: “Actually, I'm your family,” to test if the personality would shift back.
Alteration Failed.
It failed, popping up that alert. I tried again, but it kept failing. I felt bad killing the spider since it was lunging at me, so I just knocked it out instead.
“Changing from A to B is possible, but B back to A isn't.”
Failed on an animal, so it'd probably fail on humans too. Testing on Eldina would've been too risky for me. If it failed, my chastity would be shattered again, and even success would've been a problem.
“If it worked, she'd go back to man-hating.”
I could alter her memories of trying to jump me, but original Eldina had extreme hatred for any visible male student. She'd usually ignore them, but get within five meters? Boom—fireball to the face from that psycho bitch.
“Gotta steer clear of Eldina as much as possible.”
I had no plans to end up in her class anyway, so encounters would be rare.
“And finally, life-related alterations have heavy restrictions.”
Last but not least, alterations involving life have major limits. Reviving the dead, for instance—hypothetically—might consume my life force entirely. Even basic recovery alterations sucked my vitality dry right now. That spider had actually been on the brink of death once. I lied, “The spider is actually fine,” and alteration triggered.
But the instant it did, exhaustion hit me like a truck, and I collapsed.
“Just reverting a spider from near-death took that much out of me—if I tried resurrection, I'd be dead.”
Next restriction: I couldn't use recovery alterations on myself.
“Not that I'd try on purpose.”
Just look at this hand, wrapped tight in cloth for hemostasis. I'd wounded it and lied, “My hand is actually fine.”
Alteration Failed.
Life-related Alteration on self is impossible.
Failed, with that alert. Tried again—same result. Gave up and bandaged it.
“Dunno if there are more limits, but this is what I can figure out for now.”
I'd learn more with practice.
Through the lie that special transfer students get to choose their class, I picked one. I already had it in mind, so I stepped into F Class.
Class names at this academy aren't just random letters. They evaluate skill and talent, assigning students appropriately. But F and S Classes were exceptions. The only two without year distinctions, they were polar opposites: S Class gathered peak talents destined for greatness, while F Class was a dumping ground for problem children.
Not that there's a misunderstanding—F Class isn't talentless trash. It's full of gifted kids with flaws.
Creak!
I opened the door to 1st Year F Class, and all eyes turned to me.
“Who's that?”
“New face.”
“Heard a special transfer was coming.”
“Oh, that parachute kid? The one with the principal as his backing?”
They started gossiping about me.
Let's see... there he is.
Among the stares, one silver-haired, black-eyed guy—Yujin Keruspal—gave me a blatant look of contempt. The protagonist of Elan Symphonia.
Why's the protagonist in F Class? Like I said, he has major personality flaws. He loves looking down on and crushing the weak. He mellows out after meeting the main heroine, but right now? Early-game as hell. Total scumbag.
Figures he'd sneer so openly since I look weak.
But I was weak. Before coming here, I'd gotten my stats measured.
Everything except the unreadable Action stat was G. The professor thought the magic tool glitched and retested—still all G. In Elan Symphonia, stats range from max EX to min F. G was below F, so I internally screamed, What the fuck is this shit?!
I'd hoped G meant Great, but the prof manually confirmed: “Definitely trash.” Hopes crushed.
A prof calling a student trash? Harsh.
I sat amid the piercing stares. Then someone loomed over my desk.
“Hey, transfer.”
“What?”
“You look like total trash no matter how I slice it.”
“What?”
I knew he was a scumbag, but straight-up calling me trash to my face? Hits different in person.
“The principal's sugar daddy or something?”
“What're you on about? Sugar daddy my ass...”
Principal's sugar daddy? What bullshit is this?
“Heard you're some orphan who doesn't even know his parents. Did they knock you up and ditch you on the way from the East? Or die birthing you? Either way, trash parents make trash kids.”
Snap!
I heard my rationality snap. Insult me all you want, but a dead parent jab? Even scumbags have lines. This Yujin crossed it hard.
I pulled a glove from my pocket. Medieval setting, so challenges were simple: glove throwing. Academy students could challenge higher ranks.
I hurled the glove at Yujin's face.
“To the rooftop... no, the arena! Follow me, you scumbag!”