"How can this face be the most handsome in school?" Robert Rous frowned as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. His fingers traced the lines of his face—familiar, yet distant. In his old world, he'd been proud of his looks, but now, this new face—Charles' face—felt alien and… disappointing. How ironic, to now consider himself ugly in someone else's skin.
He sighed. He could still remember the confusion, the day he first awoke in this body. Standing over a bruised boy in a school hallway, with students crowding around, whispering in awe or fear. Why had he been the one standing? That mystery still gnawed at him.
"Charles! You coming or what? Man, we've been waiting here for three years now!" a voice snapped him back to reality, followed by boisterous laughter from outside the bathroom.
Right. Charles—the rich kid, the bully, the popular one. Not Robert, the quiet bookworm from another world. He stepped outside, slipping on the confident smirk he'd learned to fake.
"Where are we going?" he asked as they climbed into a sleek black car.
"To your girlfriend's place," one boy said with a smirk.
"Her parents are out of town," another chimed in. "She's throwing a party."
Robert blinked. Girlfriend? How could he have a girlfriend? In his world, he'd been too shy to even speak to girls. The thought sent a jolt through him. "Oh… shit," he muttered aloud before realizing.
The car fell silent.
"I'm not going," Robert said quickly. "I wasn't invited."
"That's rich," a boy laughed. "You haven't talked to her since the fight at school three weeks ago."
"What fight?" Robert asked carefully.
"You don't remember?" someone asked. "Rumor was that Frank was hitting on your girl. You snapped and beat him up. But then… you froze mid-rage and tried to help him up afterward."
"And he refused," another added. "Walked away cursing you."
That much Robert remembered—offering the hand, the rejection, the shame. But the earlier fight? That wasn't him. That had been Charles. Or had it?
They arrived at the party shortly after sunset. Music pulsed through the house like a heartbeat. The door opened before they knocked, and a girl greeted him with a soft "Hey."
"Hey," Robert replied awkwardly.
"How have you been?" she asked. Her tone was hopeful, vulnerable.
"Good." He cringed as he said it. The disappointment in her eyes said everything. She'd wanted him to say more.
"See you later," she said with a tight smile and turned.
"Wait," Robert called. She turned, surprise flickering in her expression. "Where's the bathroom?"
The light in her eyes dimmed. She nodded. "I'll get someone to show you."
Inside, staring at the bathroom mirror, Robert sighed. "Maybe I'm crazy," he whispered. He'd clung to the idea that this world, this identity, was a dream. But too much had happened. And then… there were his powers.
He remembered watching superhero shows—Justice League, X-Men. But nothing matched what he could do. Was he losing his mind?
He splashed water on his face, then left the party. He wasn't ready for this life. Not yet.
Later that night, in the privacy of his room, he opened his palm and muttered, "Carnate."
A small white spark ignited, engulfing a mosquito buzzing near his desk lamp. In its place, a marble-sized rubber ball dropped onto the table.
He watched it roll. "Twenty-four hours," he whispered. "Then it turns back."
He lay on his bed and summoned his status panel, now familiar:
Status
Name: Robert Rous
Age: 15
Level: 3
Gana: 21
CR: 0
A tired smile crossed his lips. He had earned his latest Gana from that mosquito—his thousandth carnation point. in this realm, he had discovered that each new species could only grant one Gana. Rats, birds, bugs… once he drained their value, they were useless for leveling. Still, the system here was more forgiving. No one stole Gana from him. No cruel nobles or twisted rituals. Just quiet trial and error.
"I wonder what I should hunt next," he muttered.
--
His mother called from the other room. "Robert! Don't forget we have guests for dinner!"
"Okay!" he called back. "I'm heading to the park now. Be back soon!"
He had agreed to meet his new group of friends at the park. Despite his reluctance, he figured it would help him blend in. He needed to maintain this identity until he found answers—or a way back.
As he walked down the mansion steps, he glanced up at the evening sky, deep blue and fading. "If I'm you… and you're me… does that make us both lost?" he whispered. "I hope you're making the best of me, wherever you are. I'm trying."
---
The dinner was a formal affair. Suits, smiles, polite laughter. He barely touched his food.
"You seem cheerful today," one of the visiting women said.
"Yeah," his mother added. "You can't stop smiling."
Robert looked up, caught off guard. "It was a good day," he admitted. "Really good."
Later that night, alone again, he watched the mosquito-turned-ball revert back to a tiny winged insect. It buzzed once and flew away.
He summoned his status screen one more time, reading:
Status
Name: Robert Rous
Age: 15
Level: 3
Gana: 21
CR: 0
"Step by step," he murmured. "We climb."
As sleep tugged at his eyes, he realized something strange: for the first time since he arrived, he didn't feel like an imposter. He felt… like himself.