SLIME LEGION

Chapter 1: Prologue

The first blink was born of instinct.

The next was me trying to deny a reality that was impossible to ignore.

It had been two days since I woke up in this world. Two days since I closed my eyes in my apartment and somehow, someway, ended up here.

At first, I thought it was some kind of lucid dream.

I’d never experienced one before, so I couldn’t completely rule it out. Maybe this was just my brain playing some cruel trick on me. Maybe I was desperately clinging to the hope that I’d open my eyes again and find myself back in my own room, back in my own life.

But at this point, calling this a dream would just be stupid.

I’d only be lying to myself.

The plain, unaltered truth was that this white, artistically designed concrete ceiling was not something my apartment had. It was a world apart from the cheap, plain white POP ceiling I was used to staring at.

So then...

Reincarnation.

That’s what this was, right?

"I’m screwed. Really screwed."

I reincarnated.

Just like that.

No memory of dying in my previous life. No blinding light. No "Truck-kun." No explanation from some overworked god who accidentally ended my life.

Nothing.

This was crazy.

Actually, crazy didn’t even begin to describe it. It was unbelievably stupid.

Besides, wasn’t reincarnation supposed to start from childhood? From being a baby?

Maybe this wasn’t reincarnation.

Maybe it was something else.

Transmigration?

Yeah. That made more sense.

I died in my sleep back home, then woke up here. A soul swap. Every book, movie, and story I’d read about this kind of thing followed that basic premise.

But none of them ever explained how much it hurt to realize you might have died while staring at a ceiling you’ve never seen before.

...

"Am I in a coma?"

"Argh!"

I grabbed my hair, tossing and turning on the bed.

It was ridiculously soft and warm. Almost unreal. Like it had been made from woven clouds.

I had never felt anything this comfortable in my entire life. Not as a child. Not even when my ex-girlfriend secretly dragged me into her room and I experienced her bed for the first time.

(Literal bed, by the way.)

"Focus, damn it. This isn’t the time."

I slapped my cheeks hard.

The pain helped clear my thoughts.

I needed to calm down and think.

If I really had transmigrated, then that was the reality I had to accept. No amount of crying, regretting, or throwing myself into despair would change where I was.

The first thing I needed to do was understand my situation.

Then I needed to figure out how to survive.

If I wanted any chance of returning to the life I knew, I needed to stay alive long enough to find whoever—or whatever—brought me here.

"But mom... and dad... and big sis..."

My voice trembled.

"And my perfectly planned-out life..."

Damn it.

This couldn’t be happening.

I couldn’t be dead.

I had a life.

"FINN! CALM THE FUCK DOWN!"

I literally had to shout at myself to stop spiraling.

I was losing control.

—Sigh.

I let out a long breath and fell back onto the soft, cushioned pillow.

Calm down, idiot.

Panic gets people killed.

I can’t do anything until I understand the situation I’m in. If I want to find a way back, I need information first.

"That’s right..."

I stared at the ceiling.

Survive.

Understand.

Then act.

—Bubbling.

"...I’m starving."

My stomach betrayed me before I could continue thinking.

I rubbed my stomach over the pajamas I was wearing. They weren’t anything fancy. Just a normal top and bottom set.

But the fabric was ridiculous.

It was heavy and light at the same time. I couldn’t even explain it properly. Somehow, wearing just these pajamas made me feel like I could sleep on a pile of rocks and wake up without a single ache.

That’s clue number one.

I was probably the son—or at least a relative—of a wealthy family.

Money was the only thing that could buy something like this.

As for clue number two...

"Let’s finally see what you look like."

I pushed myself out of bed.

Since I had been sleeping right in the center of the massive thing, I had to walk all the way to the edge before jumping down.

The moment my feet touched the floor, I moved through the mess I’d created yesterday.

Silk pillows.

Velvet blankets.

Everything I’d thrown around during my little breakdown when I convinced myself this was just some meaningless dream.

Looking back...

I felt incredibly stupid.

Actually, now that I thought about it, I’d been acting strangely childish ever since I woke up here.

That wasn’t like me.

I’m not someone who lets emotions control him.

I’m a selfish, dark-hearted, two-faced, lying, manipulative bastard who could watch someone die right in front of him without feeling anything.

At least...

That’s who I’ve been for as long as I can remember.

...

Not really.

I wasn’t born like that.

I wasn’t born heartless.

I was made that way.

By the people around me.

By the environment I grew up in.

I think it started during my second year of high school.

Back then, I was what people called the class clown. free𝑤ebnovel.com

I was desperate for attention. The kind of attention you crave when your own parents are too busy to notice you.

I wanted to be seen.

I wanted to be included.

I wanted people to actually listen when I spoke.

But I tried too hard.

And eventually, I became a joke.

The kid everyone laughed at.

Not with.

The thing that finally broke me happened right before summer break.

I gathered every bit of courage I had and confessed to a girl I’d liked for years.

"I could never go out with someone like you."

She didn’t even sound disgusted.

She didn’t laugh.

She didn’t insult me.

She simply said it like she was stating an obvious fact.

Like she was talking to a stray cat.

That hurt more than anything else could have.

It felt like something inside me cracked.

But I never regretted confessing.

Not once.

Because in a strange way...

I was grateful.

I loved her for rejecting that pathetic version of myself.

Because if she hadn’t...

I might have stayed trapped forever.

I went home that day under the rain.

No umbrella.

No raincoat.

I just walked.

Thinking about my life.

Thinking about how people actually saw me.

I reached home, and like always, nobody was there.

I went to my room, opened my laptop, and turned it on.

That was the day Finn Gerald ended.

And from that day onward...

I began changing.

I learned one important thing.

Everyone is born different.

Some people are lucky.

Some are average.

Some are born with everything handed to them.

And some people...

Are born with nothing.

But that didn’t mean I was doomed.

It only meant everyone started from a different position.

Life was a game.

A massive chessboard.

Every player had something unique.

Some had looks.

Some had height.

Some had intelligence.

Some had talent.

Some had everything.

And me?

I thought I had nothing.

But that wasn’t entirely true.

It wasn’t that I had nothing.

It was that what I had wasn’t something most people would approve of.

At first, I was only trying to distract myself from the rejection.

Random videos.

Comedy.

Anything to stop thinking.

But it didn’t work.

The pain remained.

So I started searching for something else.

The internet was a great teacher if you knew where to look.

I found books about social engineering.

Videos about psychology.

Articles about human behavior.

And they taught me.

Life became simple.

Humans became simple.

Understand how people worked, and you could influence them.

A month later, I became silent in class.

I stopped speaking unless spoken to.

And even when someone approached me, I analyzed them first.

Were they worth my time?

Were they useful?

Were they someone I needed to understand?

I spent hours observing people.

Categorizing them.

Creating patterns.

Eventually, I created a system.

I called it the Grading System.

I convinced myself life was just a game.

And in every game, there were characters.

Characters had roles.

Some existed to help the main character.

Some existed to hinder them.

Some were simply background characters.

Maybe I had lost my mind.

But honestly...

I wasn’t much better when I was sane.

By my third year of high school, I was a completely different person.

"This should be it."

I stopped in front of a translucent door.

It was strange.

I could see through it, but not clearly. Only vague colors and shifting light existed beyond the surface.

I reached for the handle.

My hand stopped halfway.

It was pale.

The fingers were longer than they used to be.

This wasn’t my body.

I tightened my grip.

Then I twisted the knob...