Chapter One: Yes, It’s Me!

Staring at the beautiful lady sitting on the chair, changing her noblewoman’s stockings, Louis rubbed his face.

Should he crawl out from under the bed and greet the young lady? That didn’t seem like a good idea. He decided to stay beneath the bed and read his storybook.

It was a book titled “Fantastic Journeys”—set in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, filled with magic, wizards, muggles, and dragons. It contained many strange fairy tales, perfect for telling children before bedtime; but if some bored adult happened upon it while tidying up, they might flip through it curiously.

And then they would end up inside the story.

Louis was the latter case.

He turned to the latest page.

On this page, the tale narrated how Princess Oxicris, in order to escape the wicked clutches of her stepmother the Witch Queen, sought refuge at the Royal Academy of Sacred Oak and became a professor of magic there.

But the Witch Queen’s influence still hounded her. In desperation, one night, the princess took out her mother’s bequeathed “Book of Fate” and prayed for a prince to come to her aid.

The tale ended there, leaving only blank pages, with a final line:

[Someone, somewhere, heard Oxicris’s plea. He decided to...]

[A. Enter the tale as the prince, embarking on a love-hate entanglement with the princess that neither the king nor the Witch Queen would approve of, and then watch helplessly as she is married off to the Dragonfolk. Reward: The princess’s body*1, the title “Tragic Green-Hatted Prince”*1, a book of stirring stories*1]

[B. Complain: “What the hell is this?” Reward: ???]

At this, Louis’s expression grew odd.

He definitely hadn’t chosen A. Originally, there was no option B.

When he finished the book, he’d tossed it aside, grumbled “What the hell is this?” and gone to bed.

After waking, he found himself clutching the book under this bed.

Now, the new B option in the book was exactly the phrase he’d uttered.

“So, I’ve been forcibly dragged into this melodramatic tale? This book has pulled me beneath the bed of the story’s protagonist, Oxicris?”

[Louis thinks perhaps flipping through the book again will return him home—but clearly, that’s impossible.]

A line of narration appeared, but Louis was no longer surprised.

In fact, he’d discovered that his every action was transcribed in this book. It was as if he’d become a character in the story.

[Louis missed out on “the princess’s body,” and now the world is heading in an unpredictable direction...]

[A new story begins...]

As the narration faded, the book before him dissolved from solid to ethereal, floating at his side, with new lines of narration appearing.

[Currently, Louis has neither identity nor name—he is utterly without presence. He must quickly obtain an identity, so the “Book of Fate” can anchor him in this world. Otherwise, he will vanish.]

[Before him lies one last chance. He decides to...]

[A. Crawl out from under the bed and shout: “That’s right, it’s me! I’m the prince you summoned! Wait—don’t change yet, I like black—let’s begin!” Reward: One mighty slap from Oxicris, a beating from the academy’s night watchmen, a bunk in the Dark Domain’s black cell, the affections of the prisoners]

[B. “Your Highness, I’ve finished cleaning under the bed. Is there anything else you require?” Reward: Stea Nanny’s identification (Fairy), Fairy knowledge, +1 to a random basic attribute]

Both options made Louis shudder, especially the second; instinctively, he checked himself and sighed in relief.

He began to understand—it wasn’t that he’d immediately become Stea Nanny, but rather, his method of inserting himself into the story would determine his new identity and knowledge.

It seemed there was no choice but to pick one of the two.

Louis rubbed his face hard.

If he chose A, his identity as a transmigrant would surely be exposed in prison; he’d be dealt with by the inmates and then sent to the wizards’ laboratory.

Choosing B was akin to practicing the Sunflower Manual.

He suspected this system was deliberately toying with him. One option left him with no beginning, the other with no end. He wished to choose neither.

“The world is already heading in an unpredictable direction...” Louis mused, thinking: “If a B option could suddenly appear before, why not a C option now?”

He had an idea and decided to gamble—he crawled out from under the bed.

At this moment, Oxicris was standing before her wardrobe, frowning at the assortment of dresses, clearly torn over what to wear today—every garment was fashionable, the witch’s robes varied and elaborate. This was not quite Europe’s past, but a parallel world much like it.

Sensing something, Oxicris glanced back in confusion, calling out nervously, “Who’s there?!”

Yet after looking around for a while, she saw no one. She did notice some dust on the bed, so she frowned and went over to tidy the sheets.

Louis stepped aside, watching as Oxicris smoothed the bedding right in front of him, even dusting the spot where he’d just been sitting.

This scene made Louis’s expression turn peculiar.

“It seems I really have no presence. I’m standing right in front of her, and she doesn’t see me.”

Watching the beautiful lady bending over to make the bed, Louis stroked his chin and pondered.

When Oxicris had called “Who’s there?”, the options reappeared before Louis—still only the prison-bound “prince” choice.

That was certainly out of the question. Louis tried more methods, hoping to trigger a C option.

He paced back and forth, even deliberately touched a few things, but Oxicris remained unresponsive. Only when he tried to leave the room did he hear a faint sobbing from behind.

“Is that you, Nanny Stea? Are you really there? I know you’re in the room, please don’t leave me, all right?”

The Stea Nanny option appeared before Louis again. He shook his head and stopped.

He couldn’t leave the room.

With a sigh, he found a chair, sat down, and opened his storybook.

Perhaps it was because Louis hadn’t responded, or because he hadn’t left the room, but after a while, Oxicris shook her head and murmured to herself as she wept:

“I’m so foolish, still believing in the fairy tales Mother told me as a child... There are no guardian fairies in this world... and ‘he’ will never come to help me...”

After calming herself, Oxicris dried her tears and pulled herself together.

She went to the wardrobe to change. Today was the crucial day that would determine her fate; her stepmother would surely do everything to make her look foolish. She couldn’t go on crying like a little girl. She had to face today’s “performance” in her most perfect form.

Even if she failed and had to marry into the Dragonfolk, she was still a princess of the Kingdom of Solendo.

Meanwhile, as Louis leafed through the storybook, frowning, he discovered something.

The book’s true name was the “Book of Fate,” summoned by Oxicris—in her despair, her heart had conjured a final hope, a desire to change her fate, thus resonating with the Book of Fate.

And Louis, the outsider, had been drawn in by this book. He was the person who most closely matched Oxicris’s imagination—certain criteria like birth date, zodiac sign, all the whimsical requirements of a young girl.

Of course, the calendars, zodiacs, and constellations differed between worlds, so in the end, it all boiled down to “tall and handsome.”

Thus, Louis was chosen.

Now, because Louis had refused the “tragic green-hatted prince” role and gone for a nonexistent B option, he’d entered this world with an undefined identity.

And the storybook now seemed to believe that, in this room, the only plausible identities were a thief or the nonexistent Nanny Stea, so it kept trying to define Louis as one of these two.

“How can I break free from the roles assigned by the narrator? Letting the system control my fate is no fun at all.” Louis frowned, pondering the two phrases the book had mentioned: “find an identity” and “anchor in this world.”

Suddenly, rain began to fall outside. Oxicris ran to the balcony to bring in some clothes. All the garments were things she’d washed herself, and a few were smaller wizard robes—likely the academy’s girls’ uniforms.

After folding the uniforms, Oxicris sat at her dressing table to comb her long hair.

At that moment, a pretty girl, sixteen or seventeen, dressed as a witch, pushed open the door and entered, hugging Oxicris from behind.

“Stop it, Helen.” Oxicris pried Helen’s hands away and turned around. “Have you reviewed your lessons? If you fail today’s wizard assessment, I’ll have to punish you!”

Helen stuck out her tongue, then took Oxicris’s comb and began brushing her elder sister’s hair. “Don’t worry, Sis. I’m well prepared. I’m sure I’ll pass the wizard test this time.”

“I hope so.” Oxicris sighed, gazing into the mirror. “I don’t know if Her Majesty Delphinia will use this opportunity to make things difficult for me...”

Helen’s hand paused at those words. “Didn’t she say you were allowed to teach at the academy?”

“This exam is both your wizard test and my teaching assessment.” Oxicris shook her head.

If her students didn’t perform outstandingly, Oxicris would have to end her teaching career and, as her father and stepmother wished, marry into a foreign race as a political sacrifice.

Perhaps to the orcs, perhaps to the dragons... it made no difference.

With a hint of sorrow, Oxicris said, “Usually, as long as the candidates do reasonably well, I can get a ‘pass’ in teaching. But this year, I must earn an ‘outstanding,’ so my students need at least two scores above eighty, or one must defeat the ‘Mirror Mage’ for a perfect score.”

This left Helen crestfallen as well; she didn’t know what to say.

“Helen, we have too few candidates this time.” Oxicris frowned. “Among scholars with more than six years’ experience, who else can be promoted to ‘Grand Scholar’? Can anyone be brought in? As long as they don’t do too badly—it’s just the twelve of us, far too few.”

“Not twelve anymore—a lot have taken leave...” Helen whispered.

“More absences?” Oxicris pressed her lips together. “How many are left?”

“Including me, three, three... no, four—don’t pull me!” Helen shook her shoulder.

“Who are you talking to?” Oxicris asked, puzzled.

“Louis, Lady Oxicris. My name is Louis. Helen is talking to me. She forgot—there are four of us taking the assessment.”

Suddenly, both Helen and Oxicris turned around. They seemed to glimpse someone—a figure, vague and indistinct.

“Louis?” Oxicris frowned in confusion.

Louis looked up abruptly; he’d spoken and acted in this room many times already. Now, he was making one final attempt—he had donned Helen’s school uniform to cover his modern clothing, masquerading as a student. This time, when he patted Helen, she finally reacted.

“Yes, Louis! I’m Louis, human male! Helen’s good friend, the student Professor Oxicris always forgets!” Louis spoke loudly, watching as the narration began to write a character named “Louis” into the storybook.

He made a bold attempt: “I’ve studied at Sacred Oak for over six years, I’m fluent in every spell and language in the world, and I have the ability to master any spell at a glance—I am a powerful, young wizard...”

In that instant, a host of narrative lines filled the previously blank pages, gradually fleshing out the character of “Louis.”

Suddenly, memories surfaced in Helen and Oxicris’s minds.

A flood of knowledge poured into Louis’s mind as well!

[Title acquired—Forbidden Grand Scholar]

Helen and Oxicris shuddered, turning in astonishment to look at the once-invisible apprentice.

The person whose gender and face had been indistinct suddenly became, in their eyes, a tall, handsome young man in his early twenties. Yet his hair and features didn’t resemble a native of Solendo. He was also dressed in Helen’s wizard uniform...

That’s right, his name was Louis.

A bookworm, prone to boasting, fond of sneaking into others’ rooms and wearing their clothes...

Helen glanced awkwardly at Louis, then at her cousin at the dressing table, blushing as she stuck out her tongue. “Sorry, Sis. I forgot to close the door after I came in—he slipped in again...”

Louis was bewildered.

Oxicris was utterly stunned. Seeing herself in the mirror, she let out a cry, snatched up her clothes to cover herself, and scolded, “Louis! How dare you! How can you enter a lady’s room while she’s dressing!”