"Watch out, nerd!"

Shouting out in an insulting fashion, a loud-mouthed student shoulder-checked the quiet, young man, causing him to fall over as he dropped the papers he held.

In the busy hallway of the public college campus, this a normal, everyday occurrence as students simply walked by or watched.

Blossom View State was a unique college in that it operated as an extension of high school, as in acting as a general continuation of studies, including P.E. classes and such. This, however, along with its ease-of-access, led to the same dynamics and hierarchies of high school to follow through to college.

"—" The glasses-wearing student sat there in quiet anger for a moment.

The jock laughed, exchanging fist bumps with his groupies as they sneered at their victim.

"Always such a pushover," one of the bullies said, a lanky sophomore with shaggy, blonde hair.

"That's Noah for you! This kid's been a total loser since middle school," Another chimed in, a pudgier member of the group.

"Seriously? That's pathetic, man," the blonde one laughed.

He couldn't do anything but sit there on his knees as he collected his papers, trying his best to ignore their taunts.

While reaching forward to retrieve one of his papers, Noah found a shoe stepping down on it, preventing him from getting it as he looked up to see the main proprietor himself looking down at him—"Jacob."

The star quarterback of his school's football team was built like a grown man, and had everything going for him: looks, physical abilities, and popularity. Yet, Noah always found himself confused why Jacob used so much effort tormenting him.

"Oh, look! How scary! Little Noah's staring me down like he wants to hurt me," Jacob feigned freight, garnering more laughs, "Go ahead and try."

Unfortunately, he was used to this; in fact, it was all too predictable for Noah as he knew, a second from then, he'd be kicked right in the nose.

"Ghh-!"

Though he was prepared for it, Noah still found himself wincing in pain as his nose was treated like a football by the quarterback's shoe.

Still, some part of him, despite his inner cowardice and weakness, was so bitter that the words deep inside his gut left his lips as blood strolled down from his nostrils:

"…I get it. You're just compensating for what you lack down there…" Noah shot back with a trembling smile.

The comment infuriated Jacob as he went red, rushing over and kicking the downed, scrawny sophomore as his groupies joined in, stomping on Noah.

"Piece of shit!"

Amidst this bloodied assault as Noah found his ribs kicked and his lip split by the repeated blows, forcing him to curl up in fetal position, not even the teachers did anything to stop it.

He didn't know how long the beating lasted, but by the time it was over, he was aching over his entire body and drooling blood.

As he looked around, he saw students he recognized—Emily, a well-liked track star of the school; Akari, a geeky, yet popular sophomore who seemed to dye her hair every week; Freja, a foreign exchange student with top grades and unmatched looks

'One day…I swear, I'll make you all rue the day you looked at me like trash,' he thought.

—

It wasn't his first time having to walk home with swollen cheeks and bruises, having to hold his head down as he could hear other passing students gossip or giggle.

Noah was pale, thin, and inept socially; such factors led to him being an easy target most of his life.

Though he knew of them, he was nothing but a fly to them—not a single helping hand was lent.

'I've always been the 'little fish' in life; somebody that is an easy target to pick on, without any talents to speak of, and hopelessly average,' he thought.

Bringing himself home, as usual, there was nobody waiting to greet him as his mother was constantly working shifts at the hospital and his father was long gone. Left to himself, he simply grabbed a few slices of pizza left in the fridge and heated them up briefly before sitting at the dining room table by himself.

As he took each bite, his face throbbed from the cuts and bruises, leaving him to only finish the one slice before going up to the bathroom to take a look at his face.

Of course, it wasn't pretty.

"Ghh…" He winced when touching his own cheek.

Looking in the mirror at his bloody-and-bruised face, he found intrusive thoughts seeping in.

'…If I had the power to do it, I'd make them all pay,' he thought.

As that thought crept through his mind, a loud noise rumbled above his head, prompting him to dart his eyes up as it unmistakably originated from the attic.

"Huh…?" He let out.

As he stepped into the hall, still holding an ice pack against his cheek, he pulled down the compact ladder that led to the attic.

A cough left his mouth from the stagnant dust that rained down from the attic entrance.

'It sounded like something heavy fell over. It's kind of creepy, but…I guess I should check,' he decided

As he carefully climbed up with one hand, he pulled himself into the dusty attic, coughing out again before finding his eyes resting on an ominous book sitting alone.

"A book…?"

He knelt down and lifted it up, finding it to be surprisingly heavy.

It stuck out like a sore thumb; it has a pitch-black casing with a hardback that seemed as hard as steel. Most of all, there was a subtle, crimson glow from between the closed pages, as if waiting to be opened.

'How did this get here? It's giving me the creeps, but…there's something inside of me telling me to take it and open it,' he thought

Hesitantly, he placed his fingers on the cover before slowly opening it, unveiling it before—FWOOM.

"What!?"

A powerful wind sealed within the enigmatic book breathed out, causing the pages to rapidly flutter while the mystical, blood-red light within filled the attic, shining against him as he was left awe-struck.

'I can't close it…it's like my body wants it,' he thought

It was held in his hands, though even if he tried, he couldn't let go; his arms and hands were frozen, forced to hold it open as the pages finally settled to one section.

Suddenly, his entire body tensed up, being injected with a mystical force flooded directly from the book.

[Your anger has been heard. Accept the power cultivated for your resentful self and indulge yourself in chaos, Noah Greys. This grimoire is the embodiment of the rage stocked by those like you.]

It was a malevolent, deep voice that spoke directly into his mind, ringing through his ears as he groaned, feeling an unknown force surge through his body. He was being altered on a fundamental level; cells were rewritten as his very DNA blueprint was fiddled with.

"Noah Grays" himself was being changed.

After a few minutes of this inexplicable pain as all of his muscles cramped, it finally came to an end as he breathed rapidly, finding himself caked in sweat.

[Creator's Grimoire System Awakened.]

[Rating: SSS+ | Potential: Infinite]

"System…?"

It seemed repeating those words prompted something as information instantaneously entered his mind:

[Level: 100]

[Strength: 5000]

[Constitution: 5000]

[Mana: 9999]

All of it was quite perplexing, but it part of the integration of the mystical 'Creator's Grimoire System' gave him the capabilities to understand and rationally comprehend what he was given.

It felt as though his brain had been rewired; its fundamental nature remained the same, but he felt wiser and informed of his newly-gained power.

Instead of freaking out from the mystical empowerment, his brain adjusted to this faraway reality, adapting instantaneously.

"…This is real. For some reason, I know it is. I understand it, I think?" He muttered to himself.

As he slowly stood up, the first thing on his agenda was testing the capabilities of his system, and if it truly was real in the first place. Going to his backyard, he looked around for something to test his [Strength] on.

What caught his eye was a head-sized stone sitting by the garden, which he picked up and held in one hand.

"It's light…" He remarked.

While activating his muscles, he could feel a breath of unknown vigor exuding through each fiber of muscle.

Though the real test was in destroying it, which was tested as he suddenly squeezed it in his palm.

To his surprise, it shattered easily, breaking into dozens of smaller pieces as sediment ran over his palm. Saying it simply 'shattered' might be misleading; it exploded from the simple pressure he applied to it.

"…"

He was left in shock briefly, but this soon turned to a smile as he began realizing what this meant for him.

Still, he had one more test he wanted to do.

"Creator's Grimoire," he said.

To his surprise, the call worked as manifesting from a small cloud of black and crimson smoke was the mystical grimoire, which hovered in front of him.

"Err, let's try a…fireball spell," he said.

He called upon what was likely the most basic and possible spell to exist. After a moment, he scratched his head, realizing it might've failed before suddenly—glowing embers manifested around him, coalescing into one point before a sphere of flames was born in front of him.

"Crimson Fireball" was the page the grimoire opened to likely find whatever was closest to his intended spell.

"Woah…!"

It was more potent than he expected; as he raised his hand, it seemed to guide itself towards wherever he pointed, but there wasn't exactly anywhere safe to use it.

"…There!"

Pointing towards the sky, he finally unleashed it with his will, causing it to soar up towards the clouds before exploding into a shining beacon of embers.

'Holy shit…This is all real. I'm unstoppable,' he realized

Normally, such a development would likely make him much more ecstatic, though he was, the natural affinity with it that it provided allowed him to adapt to it seamlessly. Feeling pain still present in his cheek from his earlier beating, he decided to try another spell.

"Healing?" He said, looking at the dark grimoire.

The pages mystically fluttered, swiftly landing upon a spell bearing the name "Great Recovery", which manifested as a surge of vigor flowed through his body, easing the pain and mending his wounds.

"...Woah…" He felt his healed face.

Though there was a lot he wanted to do, there was more than enough time to do so, but for now, he went to bed, pondering all of the things he once deemed impossible that he wanted to do. However, one thing stood out that he wanted to do first thing the next day:

'I'll introduce the world to the new 'me',' he thought.

It was as though his wish had been answered: in the hands of the tormented outcast, a tool of destruction and chaos was now held.