"Then I'll see you later!"

Some guy I didn't know bade farewell as he swayed around like plant in the side of the road. Or maybe I did know him but was too drunk to recognize anyone.

"… Yeah."With an almost hoarse voice, I mustered a response.

I wasn't much better by the sound of my voice, but at least I'm still slightly sober. Sober enough to head towards my residence, conveniently nearby and took the elevator to the eleventh floor. I struggled while leaning onto the walls as I made my way towards my room.

"Finally…"

I headed straight to bedroom after locking the door, and I collapsed on my bed like a rag still wearing my suit. It was always the calm before the storm after a drinking party, it's probably gonna be a horrible morning tomorrow for my head. The only relief is knowing that it's a friday night, which means I get to suffer without missing a day in work because I slept in.

Despite the dizziness taking over me, sleepiness never crept in because of the uncomfortable swell of my stomach, so like an instinct, I took out my phone and started browsing for novels.

It was during these nights that stories kept me company. There was a bunch of books that were already marked as completed in my library, so just like any reader, I looked for new ones on the recommendations instead saving my favorite ones for when I'm sober enough to enjoy reading.

I scrolled for a long time, until one title in the new stories made me stop momentarily.

'It's Not Special to be a Transmigrator'

'Chapters: 1'

'Status: Ongoing'

A transmigrator. An overused plot where the protagonist starts a new life in another world. Either as a completely unknown extra, or one of the protagonist or villains with well known backstory and development. It was common to find title's like these nowadays.

'Tags: Fantasy, Tragedy, Adventure, Magic, Romance, Etc…'

There were many other variants like reincarnation, regression, and even reverse transmigration. Among them regression were probably my favorite. There was just something about reliving life once again and doing better than before with knowledge of the future.

Perhaps it was so popular because people liked to imagine reliving their life all over again and settling all their regrets. And I had to admit that there was a time that I felt the same. But the days when I would read such a story for weeks were long gone. Except, during the nights I can't fall asleep.

There wasn't any cover. There's only the title plastered in it. I clicked on the story to check out the synopsis.

''Lotte Fraulen.

Male, six years of age.

It's a rather feminine name for a boy.

He stood frozen before a strange scene, his father kneeling by his mothers side, the midwife carrying three crying infants in her arms, and his mother whose hands fell without moving any further. 

That was the first time he heard his father sob which at his age he wouldn't understand. However he recognized that it was similar to the sound he made whenever he's hurt. Perhaps for his age this would be a confusing experience.

His father took the three babies in the midwifes arms and gently carried them. That day was meant to be a celebration, but his voice can only be silenced by grief, knowing they will grow up without knowing their mothers warmth.

To Lotte, it must've felt surreal. But it was even more so for me, as these scenes began to unfold before my eyes.

'Where… am I?''

I quickly swiped my fingers and looked for something else to read. Maybe I should just continue reading from my library or reread my favorite novel again. I ended up only looking at the eye catching covers without reading anything, just like that drowsiness came and slowly enveloped me. I hadn't read a single thing but falling asleep while browsing works too.

My eyelids gradually closed as I slowly fell to sleep.

***

I woke up to an unfamiliar scene before me. Walls made of wood and stone, old furnitures and wooden cabinets, and a huge worn out bed with a woman lying on it, her arms lying down listlessly. Then to her side was an unfamiliar man and an old woman carrying something.

I didn't wake up in my room but instead… Here, whatever this place is. This could be a dream, one where I felt too aware of my surroundings.

I stared blankly waiting for the dream to end. Not bothering too much about is meaning or what's happening. However I slowly became aware of my surroundings far too vivid to be a dream. My heart pounded as the unfamiliar sensation of nervousness crept on me.

'Where… am I?'

That thought immediately reminded me of the words I read before falling asleep, as if a keyword. It was said that the brain remembers the last perceived detail just before we sleep. My dizziness and drowsiness were long gone, the expected hungover and headache didn't come and the alarm that pissed me off didn't wake me up.

'That novel!'

I only looked at the synopsis for a while but to me it was a very recent memory. This scene in front of me was eerily similar to that situation described. Too similar that even my first thought were the same as the last line.

In order to see if this isn't lucid dreaming I first looked at my hands. Unlike before all the calluses and rough skin were gone, replaced by small hands and thin limbs. I touched my face and the rough sensation of stubbles growing of my face was replaced by smoothness.

'I'm… a kid?'

While my thoughts drifted away at the absurdity of the situation, the man had come to kneel in front of me. Memories flashed in my head… and I recognized him as my father. No, this kid's father.

He patted my shoulder and looked at my eyes. It was a complicated gaze, wondering what to say to his child that just lost his mother. But in the end no words came out.

"Lotte."

When he called by that name, it seemed to resonate with me. It was also the same name I remember from that novel.

"Edna, Alea and Guin. They are your little sisters. From now on, they're also a part of our family. Remember their names well."

He slightly smiled and stood up. After that all sorts of information flooded my brain. There was a sharp pain that coursed through my head as it all came to me.

Memories that Lotte has lived, his thoughts when his father first yelled at him due to hurting a playmate and how his mother cared for him when he was sick. However it was all insignificant in front of this situation. The pain that came along with the memories reminded me that I am a real living person in this world. There was only one thing in my mind right now.

It happened to me.

That so called Transmigration.

***

Lotte, sat in contemplation by the window in a thatched house as he stared into the distance, it was a rather old fashioned house similar to western rural houses typically seen in farmlands.

He had waited for a while if he's ever going to wake up from this overly realistic dream, but unfortunately he was met with disappointment as his mothers funeral just concluded days ago. The woman had turned out to be his mother that died giving birth to triplets. It was ironic, since him being in this body means the original has somehow disappeared and similarly died.

The burial method has a certain uniqueness to it, and an old man who's the so called village chief presided over the funeral as he recited a rite of passing. Conveniently enough, he understood it and found that there was not much difference from the rites used in his world.

His mothers grave was filled with various flowers bouquet and wreaths brought by the villagers that represents hope, goodwill and rebirth in the flowers language apparently. Flowers were thrown in the grave before being burned and filled with dirt.

After that each family offered some fruits and vegetable along with flowers to us which is one of their customs, to appease the loss of the aggrieved family. There's honestly quite a lot, since there was several families and almost a hundred people. I later discovered that all who attended was everyone in the village.

My 'father' had left me alone most of the time and busily tended to the three newly born infants. He would occasionally have a complicated expression on his face as he looks at me. Perhaps he doesn't know what to say to his son, who lost his mother and started behaving strangely.

For the past few days, I had rarely talked or went out. That's because I was busy sorting out my thoughts. Figuring things out is my top priority. There was no doubt that I'm definitely in a fantasy themed world.

It is after all the main genre of that novel.

'Yeah, that damned novel.'

The novel I briefly read before browsing and falling asleep, thinking about it now, it may very well be the one responsible for taking me here. For the first time in my life I regretted not reading a novel, and for an absurd reason. Had I read that I would at least have a great advantage here in this world. Furthermore…

"Tragedy huh…"

It was right next to 'Fantasy' which bodes ill for me. What kind of tragedy does this story have? I can only hope that the author didn't write any drastic stuff in there. 

"Huh?"

Now that I think about it… There was hardly any chapters. The author hadn't published any chapters besides the first one, that's why I skipped it right away.

Then it wouldn't have mattered if I read anyway.

But then how would the story proceed?

Right… It may be a story still being written but to me, it's the world I live in.

If I had enough preparation, then I might be able to deal with tragedies that might come my way.

Usually a story is depicted in scenes for convenience's sake, it's the case for almost any story. Who would read a story about a protagonists daily life each day? There's bound to be an uninteresting day or two in our daily lives, but in a story that is unnecessary and skipped to keep the flow of the plot smoothly.

Unless it was purposely written that way by an absurdly capable author that can keep pumping interesting chapters about a character's detailed life every single day without skipping.

And those gaps, where no story or scenes are told will be my ace against any danger towards my life. After reading countless novels I had a realization that an authors favorite is making the characters swept away in a situation unavoidably no matter what they do in the end. 

It was something to take note of, since I've seen many stories that have those same developments, and some are really well done and foreshadowed.

In this world, in my perspective and everyone else's, we are living our lives, and not reading our story. If fate exists in this world, that would be the story written by the author. And I, as a character is just a puppet dancing in the palm of his hands, living based on his whims without being aware of it.

'Except, I'm aware of it. Though there's hardly anything I can do, since I'm just a kid now.'

I'm still agonizing over the fact that it was me who was brought in this world. But what's done is already done. Who knows, I might really wake up and everything turns out to be one piece of shit realistic dream.

For now, I need to live on. And prepare for the worst things to come.

It's a problem that I have to do all that in a kid's physique though. 

With that being said, my determination will be the biggest factor into yielding results that can help me in the future.

First, since I'm in a fantasy oriented novel with a tragedy tag, a strong, flexible but tough physique is indispensable to my battle prowess. I plan to exercise at a young age, my frail and childish body be damned.

There's bound to be absurd creatures and monsters in a fantasy-tragedy novel. If there were none, then it might be the people I might have to deal with, or both at the same time. I just hope that the tragedy is not some force of nature that can't be avoided.

Second, I need information. I need to know where this place is, the kingdoms and empires, the creatures and plants, and what is considered as a powerful person, whether it's through status, skill or actual fantasy like reason such as being an magician or a great knight.

Aside from that, there's a need to watch out for any plots and developments to either steer away from it, or get involved to prevent affecting me negatively in advance. I can do this if I have an information guild but I neither knew how to make or manage one. I'm gonna have to find someone to do it for me, just like some protagonists I knew. It's gonna need a lot of money, which I don't know if I can even gather enough of.

Power, Knowledge and Wealth. It's not much different from what any ambitious man would desire.

Come to think of it, a triplet in a rural village like this is a sore thumb sticking out. They obviously have a role to play in the future.

But, there's one more thing. How should I treat my family, specifically my father? He was Lotte's only family. There won't be any problems with my three sisters since they will grow up knowing the 'me' version of Lotte, but his father might find me strange, or perhaps he already does.

I looked and saw my father clumsily trying to change the napkins of my sisters, and beside him was one of our neighbors who helped feed them. He had no choice since mother who was supposed to take on that role had died.

He seems like a good father if anything else, being flustered and dedicated to his daughters like that even after losing his wife. He didn't even make any time to get depressed and fulfilled his responsibilities right away.

Since I've changed he's bound to notice it sooner or later, and acting like a kid isn't really something I'm willing to do.

Well, luckily I'm still young. That means I can slowly change myself into my liking and just behave the way I am naturally. It can be passed off as growing up and anyone who questions me can take it or leave it.

Now then.

My life inside an unwritten story unfolds.