Welcome to Winchester Acadamy' Those words kept repeating itself in Finn' mind. He tried to make some plausible explanation to unsatisfy his desire of panic. Howerer, he faced the hard truth here. He was somehow inside the novel which he has read the previous day. He didn't know how but he was here.
Before Finn could think more, another individual appeared on stage. She was an old lady who was wearing a monocle and a orange robe. She spoke gently compared to the man before and explained the rules the man said but in a proffesional manner.
"Now, I hope you understood the rules much better," said the lady as she smiled gently.
"Now, I will call upon names of the top 10 elite seats of the acadamy," said the lady as she adjusted her monocle and snapped her fingers. Suddenly, a delicate paper appeared in front of her and she started calling out the names.
1. Elina Merovingian
2. Thomas Brown
3. Gustavo Linton
4. Mary Sitvian
5. Seraphina Allington
6. Jennifer Allington
7. Alan Dedler
8. John Winston
9. Ren Heslington
10. Keith Frader
As the lady finished announcing the names, a group of students promptly made their way to the mighty thrones and seated themselves with an air of familiarity. However, Finn remained indifferent to their grand entrance, for he knew them firsthand. In fact, he was more intimately acquainted with them than anyone else in this world at the moment—they were the main cast of the novel "Crimson Addiction," revered as the pinnacle among his schoolmates.
Observing the ten students who now occupied the elite seats, Finn couldn't help but notice the distinct auras that surrounded them, marking them as different from the rest of the students present. It was clear that the academy was sending a message: "They are one step above you."
"Now that you've seen their faces, remember, these individuals were E-rank at the age of 16," the lady continued, her words dripping with implication. "Keep in mind that they will be your goals to reach. Strive to surpass them, idolize them, because they represent the pinnacle of your age."
Finn quickly grasped the underlying message conveyed by the lady's words: she was indirectly implying that the other students were vermin, incapable of reaching the level of talent exhibited by the elite few. Her disdain was palpable, evident in the glint of her monocle, which seemed to gleam as if constantly polished.
"Now that you're familiar with the rules, please proceed to your respective dormitories. Your watches will be delivered to you in a few hours. Please take care not to lose them. Until we meet again, goodbye," the lady concluded with a smile, snapping her fingers once more.
A bright light engulfed Finn, filling him with a sense of apprehension. When the light dissipated, he found himself standing in an altogether different place. Before him stood an old, weather-beaten building that bore an eerie resemblance to a haunted house. Its windows were boarded up with wood, and the perimeter was encircled by rusted iron fences, upon which crows perched ominously.
Finn's heart raced as he took in his surroundings, a sense of unease settling over him like a heavy shroud. With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, he realized that this was to be his new home during his time at Winchester Academy.
As Finn stood there, taking in the desolate surroundings, he realized with a sinking feeling that he was alone in a forest, with only the dilapidated house for company. The dense canopy above cast eerie shadows that danced around him, and the silence of the forest seemed to press in on him from all sides.
"Out of all the dormintories, it has to be this one..." muttered Finn as he recognized it from the illustrations.
With a shiver running down his spine, Finn approached the old, worn building, each step echoing loudly in the stillness of the forest.
Finn's hand hovered in mid-air, hesitating to push open the door to the ominous house. His mind raced with questions, each one adding to the weight pressing down on his chest.
"What the hell is happening to me?" he muttered, his voice barely audible over the sounds of the forest. "Why am I walking towards this house as if it's my home? What is happening..."
Feelings of frustration and helplessness washed over Finn as he grappled with the surreal nature of his situation. He found himself trapped in a world he knew everything about, yet felt utterly powerless to change.
"I want to go back," Finn whispered, his voice tinged with desperation. "Back to the arcade, back to my home, back to my parents' grave..."
But no matter how desperately he wished it, Finn knew there was no going back. With a heavy heart and a sense of resignation, he reluctantly pushed open the door to the house, steeling himself for whatever lay beyond.
The door responded by giving out a loud noise capable of waking a heavy sleeper.
As Finn stepped into the house, he was greeted by a musty odor that hung thick in the air, assaulting his senses with its stale scent. The interior was cloaked in darkness, the only illumination filtering in through cracks in the boarded-up windows. Dust motes danced in the dim light, casting eerie shadows that seemed to shift and sway with each passing moment.
The entryway stretched out before him, its once-grandeur now faded and worn with age. Cobwebs adorned the corners, their delicate strands clinging to the decaying walls like ghostly tapestries. The floorboards creaked beneath Finn's weight as he cautiously ventured further into the house, each step echoing loudly in the oppressive silence.
Rooms branched off from the main hallway, their doors hanging askew on rusted hinges. Finn peered into each one, finding them empty save for the remnants of bygone days—a tattered curtain fluttering in the breeze, a cracked mirror reflecting fractured images of the past.
As he ascended the creaking staircase, Finn's footsteps echoed through the empty halls, reverberating off the peeling wallpaper and faded portraits that lined the walls. Each floor revealed more of the house's dilapidation—the once-grand chandeliers now coated in dust, the ornate banisters warped with age.
Finally, Finn reached the uppermost level of the house, where he found a solitary room at the end of the hallway. Pushing open the door, he was greeted by a shaft of dim light that illuminated the space within. The room was sparse, its only contents a dusty bed frame and a moth-eaten rug that lay crumpled on the floor.
As Finn took in the desolate surroundings, a sense of unease washed over him once more.
"Just what the hell is this place?" muttered Finn as we sat down on the dusty bed. He gently layed down and closed his eyes.
"First, I have to find a way to survive in this world," Finn muttered to himself, his determination firming as he clenched his hands. Howerer, he suddenly remembered something.
With widened eyes, Finn leaped to his feet and dashed through the hallway, the floorboards groaning ominously beneath his hurried steps. Spotting a door with a worn board hanging from it, he wasted no time in pushing it open and stumbling inside. The sign on the door read "Restroom," and Finn breathed a sigh of relief as he closed the door behind him.
Turning to face the mirror, Finn reached out and wiped away the layer of dust that had accumulated over its surface. What he saw reflected back at him left him speechless, his eyes widening in bafflement at the sight before him.
"Who the hell is this guy!?" Finn shouted in disbelief, his hand trembling as he grabbed onto the mirror. Staring back at him was a young man with black hair and black eyes, resembling Finn in some ways, but with facial features that were far from attractive.
Finn glanced down at his attire, taking note of the black blazer that adorned his frame, paired with a crisp white shirt and a neatly tied tie. His black pants completed the ensemble, fitting seamlessly with the rest of his attire.
In stark contrast to Finn's average appearance, the reflection showed a face that could only be described as nondescript. There was nothing remarkable about it, nothing that would catch the eye or leave a lasting impression. It was the face of a person who would blend into a crowd without a second glance, a face that would fade into obscurity without a trace.
Finn felt a surge of frustration and panic rising within him as he grappled with the realization of his altered appearance. This was not the reflection he was accustomed to seeing, and the implications of this sudden transformation filled him with a sense of dread.
"There is no doubt," Finn said aloud, his voice tinged with resignation as he released his hold on the mirror.
"I have transmigrated into someone of this world. Moreover, this is a guy who I haven't even seen in the novel illustrations." Finn's mind raced with the implications of this revelation. He had an exceptional memory regarding the novel, having read it extensively to impress his friends and use it as a conversation starter.
Rummaging through his pockets in search of something useful, Finn's fingers brushed against a small object tucked away inside. Pulling it out, he found himself holding an ID card bearing the emblem of Winchester Academy—an intricate W formed by crossed swords.
Examining the card, Finn's eyes widened as he read the name printed on it: Kern Novarnam. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror, the realization sinking in that this was now his identity in this unfamiliar world.
With a resigned sigh, Finn exited the restroom and returned to the room, determined to make the best of his current situation. He set about cleaning the room, arranging the sparse furnishings to his liking before finally settling down on the bed.
"Wait, shoudn't I get a system or something. Surely, I must have a advantage right?," muttered Finn.
He grinned and shouted...
"SYSTEM!
Silence reigned over the atmosphere as Finn shouted again.
"SYSTEM!"
"SYSTEM!"
"Comeforth SYSTEM!"
........
20 minutes later.
Finn was tired. He was thirsty moreover. He accepted the fact that there was no system to help him. He was alone on this world. No robotic sexy female voice is there to accompany him. No overpowered skill or broken cheats was at his disposal.
He approached the kitchen and found moss forming over the dining tables.
Finn cursed as he removed his blazer and rolled his sleeve. He started cleaning this damn house.
4 hours later....
As Finn wiped the last remnants of grime from the dining tables, he stepped back to survey his handiwork. Despite the lingering exhaustion in his muscles and the persistent ache in his bones, a sense of satisfaction washed over him as he beheld the transformed state of the house.
Gone were the layers of dust and moss that had once choked the life out of the rooms, replaced now by a sense of cleanliness and order. The floors gleamed under the dim light filtering in through the boarded-up windows, and the air, once heavy with neglect, now felt fresh and revitalized.
As Finn celebrated his hard-won victory, a sudden knock at the front door shattered the tranquility of the moment. Startled, he turned towards the sound, his heart racing with uncertainty.
With a deep breath, Finn made his way to the door, his hand hesitating momentarily before reaching out to grasp the handle. As he swung the door open, he was greeted by the sight of a robot standing before him, holding a large box that was bigger than a fridge.
"Kern Novarnam?" the robot inquired, its voice devoid of emotion.
Finn hesitated, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts. But in that moment, he realized that in this world, he was no longer Finn. He was a different person. With a heavy heart, he said...
"Yes, I'm Kern Novarnam."