Greji, your average, run-of-the-mill high school nobody. Standing at a totally unremarkable height with a face that blends into the background like a chameleon in a wallpaper store, Greji has lived a life so dull it might as well come with elevator music. His grandmother, bless her soul, has been his only cheerleader in a game where everyone else seems to be playing against him. At school? A punching bag for bullies. Social life? Nonexistent. Romantic prospects? A big fat zero.
But Greji isn't all gloom and doom. Beneath that plain exterior lies a sharp, cunning wit that has kept him afloat but barely. It's this wit that gave him the nerve to confess to his childhood crush one fateful day, hoping for a heartwarming anime moment. What he got instead was a comedy roast special.
"Seriously, you like me?!" she cackled. "Is this a prank? Where's the camera?"
Her words cut deep, but the laughter from their classmates felt like a chainsaw to the ego.
Completely humiliated, Greji snapped. No more Mr. Nice Guy. He bolted out of school, a mix of frustration and teenage melodrama coursing through his veins, heading straight for the nearby forest. Here, he thought, he could finally let out his emotions without an audience.
And by "vent," he meant "pee." Nature called, after all.
As he relieved himself near a quiet farm, his existential musings were rudely interrupted by the enemy. There, dangling ominously from a leaf, was a spider. Not just any spider as it had the wide-eyed, almost cute expression of Lucas the Spider. But to Greji, it might as well have been a fanged demon out for his soul.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
In his panic, Greji did what any brave, rational hero would do: he screamed like a banshee and ran for his life, mid-pee. Yes, dear reader, he sprinted while still peeing.
As fate would have it, his frantic escape route took him straight into the path of none other than Truck-kun, the legendary harbinger of isekai adventures. There was a honk, a screech, and a wet thud that sent Greji flying into his next life.
The aftermath was pure chaos. The scene of his death made the evening news: "Local Teen Dies in Bizarre Spider-Related Accident," complete with a slow zoom on the puddle he left behind. The poor spider, now dubbed "Terrified Witness," became an internet sensation.
Meanwhile, Greji's final thoughts as he ascended into the afterlife?
"Seriously?! THIS is how I go out?! I couldn't even zip up first?!"
Little did he know, this embarrassing exit was just the beginning of his ridiculous journey…
Greji's last conscious thought before his untimely and embarrassing death was something along the lines of, "At least give me an overpowered cheat code, universe!" So, imagine his surprise when he woke up in an unfamiliar room that screamed "medieval budget cuts."
The bed? Lumpy hay. The walls? Cracked stone. The smell? Let's not even go there. But Greji didn't care, he had finally done it. He had been isekai'd!
Before he could celebrate properly, a sudden wave of memories crashed into him like the truck that sent him here. It turned out he wasn't just in another world; he was in another body. And not just any body it belonged to a young nobleman named… Greji. The coincidence felt cheap, like the universe couldn't be bothered to come up with a new name.
As the memories settled, Greji learned about the life of the man he now inhabited. The noble Greji was the son of Count Wirth, whose estate was less "majestic manor" and more "fixer-upper with rats included." The family was broke, thanks to the count's fondness for questionable investments, including a failed venture to breed fire-breathing chickens. Spoiler: they didn't breathe fire, just burned down the barn by accident.
And noble Greji himself? Oh boy. He was a certified nobody. No talent for swordsmanship. No magical affinity. Not even a whisper of an impressive bloodline. Just a walking disappointment with a noble title that held about as much weight as a wet paper bag.
Realizing he had essentially traded one miserable life for another, transmigrated Greji did what any seasoned isekai protagonist would do.
He hoped for a system.
"System!" he yelled confidently. Nothing happened.
"Guide! Skill menu! Status window! Inventory! Hell, I'll even take a suspiciously glowing rock!"
Still nothing. Not even a flicker of divine intervention.
Greji refused to give up. He tried the classics:
"Hey, disembodied voice! Are you there?!"
"Ancient spirit? Mentor? Wise old man in my head?!"
But the room remained silent. The only thing greeting him was the faint sound of a rat scuttling by, possibly laughing at his despair.
"Seriously?!" he groaned, throwing his hands up. "What's the point of getting hit by Truck-kun if you don't get at least one cheat code?!"
Frustrated, Greji stomped over to the dusty mirror hanging on the wall, ready to glare at his new reflection. And then... he froze.
Staring back at him was a face so stunning, it could launch a thousand love triangles. High cheekbones, sharp jawline, piercing eyes, and perfectly tousled hair that looked like it belonged in a shampoo commercial. His lips had that ever-so-slight pout that screamed "mysterious loner with a tragic backstory."
"Oh. My. God," Greji whispered, running a hand through his flawless hair. "I'm gorgeous."
For a moment, he forgot all about his lack of talent, resources, or magical prowess. Who needed a system when you looked like a walking thirst trap?
But the moment was short-lived. He snapped back to reality, remembering that this new world wasn't going to give him a free ride just because he looked like a divine statue brought to life. With his cunning mind from his past life, he started to formulate a plan.
Sure, he had no talent or powers, but he had brains and now, a face that could stop wars. If he couldn't fight his way to success, he'd charm his way there. Manipulation, scheming, and bluffing were all fair game.
"Alright," Greji muttered, smirking at his reflection. "Let's see what this world's got. Because if I can't fight my way to the top, I'll talk my way there. Or at least look good failing."
And with that, Greji set out to conquer his new life, one cunning scheme (and smoldering glance) at a time.
Armed with a dazzling face that could launch a thousand melodramas, Greji took his first confident step out of the decrepit room. Unfortunately, the floorboard immediately betrayed him with a loud creak that sounded more like a dying goose. He froze, half expecting someone to barge in and mistake him for an intruder.
When no one appeared, he continued his exploration of the Wirth estate or what was left of it. It became painfully clear that this "noble house" was held together by sheer stubbornness and possibly duct tape. A chandelier dangled precariously in the dining hall, its crystals replaced with what looked suspiciously like polished pebbles. The curtains were so threadbare that they waved at him like ghostly hands as he passed.
"Right," Greji muttered, eyeing the cracked walls. "Step one: Don't die from the house collapsing."
As he wandered into the courtyard, he spotted a few of the estate's "staff." There was an elderly gardener half-asleep while leaning on his rake, a stable boy who seemed more interested in sketching birds than cleaning stalls, and a maid who was so frail she looked like a stiff breeze might carry her off.
"Wow," Greji said under his breath. "This place is less 'Game of Thr****' and more 'Game Over.'"
Then, he remembered the memories of the old Greji which is this Greji. The young noble had spent most of his days either avoiding his father's wrath for being talentless or trying (and failing) to win the approval of the few townsfolk who still acknowledged the Wirth family. Apparently, his best attempt at magic involved setting his own hair on fire during a basic light spell. The townsfolk had nicknamed him "Greji the Dim," and not because of his brightness.
But now, Greji from Earth was in charge, and he wasn't about to let this world walk all over him. His cunning mind clicked into action. If he had no talent, no money, and no mystical system, he'd have to rely on good old-fashioned strategy and, of course, his newfound godlike looks.
"Step two," he mused, flipping a strand of hair dramatically, "use this face for all it's worth. Smile. Charm. Flirt. Bluff. Whatever it takes."
His thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of a loud, gruff voice.
"Young Master Greji!"
Greji turned to see a man who could only be described as built like a boulder. This was Alfred, the Wirth family's loyal (and possibly insane) butler. The man looked as though he could punch a hole through a castle wall if someone so much as insulted his cooking.
'Wait, Alfred? Who am I? Batman without the money and talent?' Greji thought to himself as he looks at Alfred.
"I trust you are ready for the day's duties?" Alfred barked, his mustache quivering with military precision.
"Duties?" Greji asked cautiously.
"Yes! You are to visit the townsfolk and personally deliver the new tax decrees!" Alfred said, puffing out his chest.
"Tax decrees?!" Greji blinked. "We're taxing people? What are we even using the money for—fireproof chickens?"
Alfred frowned, clearly unimpressed by the sass. "The family estate needs funds, Young Master. We cannot let the Wirth name fall into ruin!"
Greji glanced around the courtyard, noting the crumbling statues, peeling paint, and a chicken that appeared to be on fire in the distance. "Alfred," he said dryly, "I hate to break it to you, but that ship has already sailed. And sunk."
Alfred didn't laugh.
With a resigned sigh, Greji took the decrees and prepared for his first task in this new world: facing the villagers. He wasn't exactly excited about it, but he had to start somewhere. As he stepped out of the estate and onto the dusty road, he muttered to himself:
"Alright, Greji. Time to dazzle them with charm, distract them with good looks, and maybe survive long enough to figure out how to make money without getting lynched. Piece of cake, right?"
And so, with a smirk and a toss of his perfect hair, Greji set off to tackle his new life head-on. Little did he know, his first interaction with the townsfolk would involve an angry mob, a suspiciously sticky pie, and a chicken that refused to die. But that was a problem for later Greji. Right now, he was too busy looking fabulous.
Greji hadn't made it far on his doomed quest to deliver tax decrees before he heard a voice calling his name.
"Brother! Brother Greji!"
He turned just in time to see a girl practically gliding toward him like a Disney princess on speed. His heart skipped a beat. Was this… his sister?
The girl was stunning. Even by medieval fantasy standards, where beauty seemed to be handed out like candy, she was jaw-droppingly gorgeous. Her long, flowing hair shimmered like spun gold, her porcelain skin was flawless, and her big, sparkling eyes radiated innocence. She looked like she'd stepped straight out of a painting or possibly an elaborate trap.
"Holy crap," Greji muttered, trying to keep his jaw from hitting the ground. "Do we have a good bloodline after all? Maybe I've got hidden potential..."
Before he could finish his thought, his sister skidded to a halt right in front of him, her dazzling smile almost blinding him.
"Brother!" she said in a voice so sweet it could cause cavities. "I heard you were leaving for the village, and I just had to come see you off!"
"Uh… thanks?" Greji said, feeling a creeping sense of unease. Something about her seemed… off. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but she was giving him the same vibes as those overly attached little sisters from anime which are the ones who smile sweetly while holding a knife behind their back.
"You'll come back soon, right, Brother?" she asked, tilting her head ever so slightly. "You wouldn't leave me here all alone, would you?"
"Of course not," Greji said automatically, taking a cautious step back.
"Good," she said, her smile widening just a bit too much. For a moment, Greji could've sworn he saw a shadow flicker behind her eyes. But then she giggled and clapped her hands, and he told himself he was just being paranoid.
"Great," he thought, casting her a nervous glance. "I might not have a system, but I do have a possible yandere sister. Awesome. Just awesome."
Before he could dwell on it further, two more figures appeared, strolling arm in arm like a couple from a cheesy romance novel. His parents.
And, of course, they were both ridiculously attractive. His father looked like a rugged noble straight out of an adventure movie, complete with a perfectly trimmed beard and a jawline sharp enough to cut bread. His mother, meanwhile, had the kind of beauty that could inspire poets or wars. Together, they looked less like struggling aristocrats and more like the cover models for "Fantasy Couple Monthly."
"Son!" his father boomed, throwing his arms wide as if they hadn't seen each other in years. "Off to do your noble duties, I see! I'm so proud of you!"
"Don't forget to smile at the villagers," his mother added, her voice dripping with honey. "A kind smile can open many doors!"
Greji managed a weak smile in return, but something felt… wrong. His parents were too cheerful. As if on cue, his mother and father began laughing together, gazing into each other's eyes with the kind of lovey-dovey energy that could make single people gag.
"Oh, my darling!" his mother cooed, lightly slapping his father's arm. "Do you remember when we gave our savings to that merchant who promised to turn straw into gold?"
"Ah, yes," his father chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Turns out it was just straw, but what an adventure!"
"Wait, wait," Greji interrupted, holding up a hand. "You what?"
"Oh, it wasn't much," his mother said breezily. "Just a few gold coins here and there. We like to help people!"
"Help people… by getting scammed?" Greji asked, his eye twitching.
His father waved a dismissive hand. "It's all part of life's rich tapestry, son. You win some, you lose some!"
Greji stared at them, his hope for the family bloodline's intelligence rapidly plummeting. These people weren't just naïve; they were practically asking to be swindled. It was like they saw "Con Artist" stamped on someone's forehead and said, "Take my money!"
"Great," Greji thought, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm surrounded by walking liabilities. A yandere sister, and parents who probably think pyramid schemes are just triangular opportunities."
As his family continued their oblivious chatter, Greji sighed deeply. He was on his own in this world. If he wanted to survive, he couldn't rely on his parents' nonexistent financial sense or his sister's… unsettling devotion.
"Alright, Greji," he muttered to himself. "Time to start scheming. Step one: don't let this family bankrupt us further. Step two: avoid getting stabbed by your sister. Step three: survive."
With a dazzling smile of his own, he waved goodbye to his family and set off toward the village, ready to face whatever chaos awaited him. Though deep down, he suspected his family would somehow manage to cause even more trouble than the demon king himself.