Seojin stared at the floating system interface before him.
[Basic Information]
Name: Seven Hart (Yoon Seojin)
Age: 15 (19)
[Skills]
[Self-proclaimed Genius]
[Inactive Debuffs]
[Skibidi] / [Sigma] / [Rizz] / [Sus] / [Gyatt] / [Ohio] / [NPC]
Of course there was a system. In stories like this, it was practically mandatory.
Still…
"That's… really unhinged."
Seojin's eyes lingered on the debuffs.
Those damned meme culture had no descriptions or whatsoever, to at least know what are its effects.
His expression then turned into an art that is hard to describe, like a banana taped to a canvas.
"…What am I supposed to do with this?"
But the more he thought about it, the clearer one thing became:
Complaining wouldn't change anything!
Truth is, the one he should be thinking about was not the system, nor the debuffs, nor how his body was exactly the same but wearing different clothes.
As cliche as it was, his current situation belonged to those "I got transported to another world, and now I need to overcome a deathflag" type of shits.
Even though this character matched the details of his comment, it didn't mean 'he' had mysteriously appeared out of thin air. [Seven] was already an existing character, an off-page extra who happened to fit the criteria.
'Seven Hart…'
Calling him an 'extra' might have been too generous, as his entire existence was meant to be sacrificed for another character's development.
By the time he was done thinking, the system interface had already disappeared before him.
Step, step.
After taking a brief, cold shower, Seojin hopped inside a noble-looking bathtub, big enough to fit three of him all at once. Everything looked noble.
Well, as it should be.
The name [Hart] was one among the feared households of the continent, a family renowned for their excellence over the sword as far as history could go back to.
"If only not because of this character being the first failure in the family's history…"
Suppose that were the case… sigh, nevermind.
In stories like this, it was expected for him to start as an extra, and there should be a guiding system, and that didn't seem to be the case for him evident by the lack of stats and quests.
"Self-proclaimed genius…"
He frowned, running a hand through his wet hair. He had asked for a genius skill, but the system seemed to tell him, "you are a genius, discover it yourself."
Then again, the timing was perfect, definitely perfect!
Those years he spent as an eundunhyeong oetori was simply nothing more than a space to form a decision.
If he had not been sent here, then he would have had to face his father the day after and talk about his final decision to pursue law or not, or his mother to pursue modeling or not.
Not realizing it, he fell asleep in the luxurious bath.
He hadn't shown much excitement about being transmigrated earlier, but in his sleep, his heart pounded like it wanted to break his ribs and escape.
Time passed, only he woke up after half an hour but his skin had no wrinkles like one would normally have after being submerged that long.
Rinsing himself off, he hung the towel on his shoulder and walked out the door.
Step, step.
As he did, a woman with such grace welcomed him with a tray of breakfast in her hands.
"Please forgive me for seeing that sorry thing, my lord. I simply wanted to deliver your new set of breakfast."
"...?!"
She remained unbothered, placing the tray on the desk.
After that, Seojin was still standing in the same position as if caught in surprise that his body tensed.
Iria looked him straight in the eyes before finally making her way out, making his already red cheeks turned even more rosy. A lifetime worth of virginity had not prepared him for this.
Creak!
The door shut.
It took Seojin a while to escape his daze, making his way towards the closet and grabbing a set of clothes. Then, he walked towards the breakfast and helped himself.
"I couldn't see her basic information? I mean, didn't systems like this usually have that kind of ability? Damn useless."
The set contained freshly baked butter croissant with honey and cream, a silver tray of potato stew, along with a herbal tea.
"As it turns out, this is only applicable to myself."
Munch, munch!
He wondered if these fancy foods would be digested by his picky stomach, but he finished them anyway. The only one he didn't quite like was the herbal tea.
"Grah. It tastes nasty."
Thankfully, the woman (or his maid now, that much was clear) was not there to hear it, but still, he was a little guilty about complaining about free food.
This was the first decent meal he had for about three months, as he simply settled with instant ramens and rice.
Creak.
The woman came back to tidy up the tray.
Seojin decided this might be a good opportunity to get to know her, especially since he hadn't inherited any of Seven Hart's memories.
"Hey. This might sound weird, but— uagaahh!!"
Seojin groaned as memories suddenly came crushing all at once as if in response to his thoughts, accompanied by searing pain.
The woman immediately set the tray aside and rushed to his aid.
Her expression remained composed (showing no outward sign of worry), but a soft green light bloomed from her palm and pressed against Seojin's back.
A healing spell.
"Forgive my presumption, my lord. Are you in pain?"
She received no reply. Seojin was too preoccupied with the sudden influx of memories to hear her words.
It took some time for the pain to subside and for his breathing to steady. Only then did the woman withdraw her hand, the glow fading.
"Iria?"
Seojin muttered, eyes still closed.
"Yes, my lord? Are you feeling any better now?"
"Iria."
"Pardon?"
"Iria…"
He said the name of the woman again and again, based on the memory. Then he turned to face her, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, making him look unbearably fragile.
"Will there ever be a day when I'm not a disappointment to my family?"
"My lord…"
It was now clear that the Iria was his personal maid, assigned to the youngest of the Hart. She was also his attendant, the only one entrusted to remain by his side at all times.
Iria stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him.
Seojin didn't resist, his face pressed against her chest, close enough to hear the rhythm of her heart.
The reason he kept repeating Iria's name was because he tried to recall which part of memory is similar to this scenario.
As it turns out, Seven Hart had said those same words to her countless times. Almost every day. Every time his attempt to form his first zi ring ended in failure, he would turn to Iria and ask the same question.
"It's alright, my lord. You have me. I will always remain by your side."
Iria tightened her hold on him just a little as her hand moved to his back, the same way it always had.
The tension in Seojin's body slowly eased. His breathing steadied, and the trembling in his hands fading as the warmth of her presence lingered.
After a moment, Iria stepped away and bowed her head.
"Please rest for now, my lord. I will be just outside. Please call me if you need anything."
"Yes."
Step, step.
Iria stepped out of the room, carrying the tray with her.
"Pathetic."
Seojin cursed Seven, not because he had always shown such fragility, but because he still hadn't formed a ziring at fifteen, and the youngest in the renowned sword family.
Once again, he was just a stepping stone in the story: the first failure, unworthy of the genius he was supposed to be. After all, if Seven weren't a genius, Seojin wouldn't have possessed this body, as per his comment.
"Damn it. This means I have to start from scratch, eh?"
He sat in the center of the room, placing his hands on his knees, mirroring exactly what the memories had shown him.
"Fudge. Bring it on."