What would you do if you're happily playing some Civilization games with your buddies, and suddenly you're not where you were, and your surroundings seems a tad bit different? Oh who am I kidding, the surroundings IS VERY DIFFERENT!
To those who are reading this right now, this is my diary as a Feudal Lord (somehow my soul was transferred to this guy, maybe I died from, forgive me, Pe*si overdose?) with a guy like me transmigrated, this world is no easy foe.
Well it might develop into not-so-diary-like story, but believe me. This. Is. A. Diary. soooo that means, every single bit that is written here, may or may not be fictional, It might be real, or it might be something I created out of nowhere.
So without further ado, let's jump inside the mind of the delusional Feudal Lord.
First things first, I checked my face, and the thing between my thighs. My face is fabulous and I am a man, that's a good thing.
then some old man, claiming to be my butler went into the room that was apparently some sort of office, owned by me.
"Young master, the dinner is ready." It seem the old guy said it politely, but who am I kidding? I don't know what language this is! English? It can't be. Because I, The Great Me, is very proficient in English. Well I must answer him. So I nodded. (I must answer him as to not be suspected as an impostor, I still love my miserable life you know.)
What is that? You're asking why I know he is claiming to be my butler and that room is an office? That's not lazy writing, it's just you as reader is not perceptive enough to read! I only said I do not know what is that language, never have I said I do not know how to speak it.
Anyway, let's go back to my adventure.
"Young master, why aren't you eating dinner? is it not to your liking?" asked the old guy.
"No, It's just that I am quite full right now gramps." I replied to him. And it seems that my reply is not the norm here, right now my hands are sweaty and my knees are weak, afraid of my doom once I'm known as an Impostor. The old guy was obviously shocked, and tears started flowing down his eyes.
"Why are you crying gramps?" I asked, obviously in a caring manner, as that is how you will feel seeing an old man crying (it happens to me for real, goodbye Grandpa.)
"Boo-hoo Young Master never called me gramps since so long ago, this old man is very touched...." looks like my worry is just a false alarm. And that night, I comforted my so called butler.
Night goes and day comes.
"Young Master, it is time for you to wake up." The old guy is here again, I thought him crying last night would make him embarrassed to come. And I was right, there's a tinge of red on his dilapidated cheek, looks like he's embarrassed of throwing a tantrum like that last night.
"I am up gramps, what's our agenda today?" I asked.
"For today, you must develop the county and then be the judge for the convicts."
I can't wait. I went to my office immediately.
"Gramps, tell all my advisors to come."
"As you wish, my Lord."
The first to come was....a bunch of people. I do not expect this. I thought there's only like four advisors, for economy, science, cultural, and military. But here, the room was almost filled with people.
"Alright, I will take four from all of you and make them my four personal advisors. First, its for economy based problems, second, will be for cultural based stuff, third is for military stuffs, and lastly will be for scientific based stuff." And then there was silence.