An average-height boy stood in front of a round mirror that showed his entire childlike figure. His white and black hair was neatly combed, not a strand sticking out for once. He leaned closer, tilting his head left and right.
His face looked younger than his actual age, almost as if he had never really grown past ten. The soft cheeks, the small chin, the round nose.. it was all there. Only his sharp gray eyes gave away the fact that he was older, carrying a weight that didn't belong on a child's face.
He frowned slightly. "I look like a kid dressed up for a family photo."
He wore a crisp school uniform—white shirt, dark blazer, and neatly pressed trousers.
His shirt was buttoned up neatly, tucked into his trousers the way Riven insisted. The collar still felt stiff, though. He tugged at it, sighed, and muttered:
"Aah... School uniforms can be so itchy."
For a moment, he just stood there, staring at himself in silence. He didn't dislike the way he looked, but he didn't feel like himself either.
"…Still me, though," he whispered, finally allowing a small, crooked smile.
He walked up to the desk at the other end of the room and picked up a blue book. Staring at the book for a while, he sighed and then gave a fragile smile.
Then he walked toward the big bed in the room, picked up a black backpack, and put the book inside it. He then reluctantly left the room, carrying the backpack on his back.
Alas, the previous Earth's most brilliant detective... now a member of one of the strongest Conclaves in the world... the brother of the Primal Darius... boyfriend of the first human to attain the Paragon title at the age of sixteen, Riven... was going to school...
Truly, fate was cruel.
'Tchh... I've dealt with worse.'
***
It had been two weeks since Le Wei found himself in the body of Zephyros Milnar. In those two weeks, he had learned a lot, though not much; it was still useful information.
He had also learned about Zephyros Milnar through the blue diary and some of the servants in the Milnar mansion. He had tried his best to avoid asking too many questions of his elder brother and girlfriend.
They shouldn't get too suspicious.
In the case of the servants, things were different, though he didn't approach all of them for questioning. The worker he truly trusted was Mr. Han, the driver. The man genuinely liked Zephyros, to the extent that Le Wei saw his grief over the repeated amnesia Zephyros suffered.
Based on the things he had learned, first, he discovered Zephyros's true attitude. To Le Wei's surprise, his attitude was the same as his own. The first clue came from the diary.
Mr. Han had also clarified, saying Zephyros used to be interested in solving mysteries about the Miasma and wanted to be Ordained.
That was where the two were different. Le Wei didn't want to be an Ordained nor have anything to do with the Miasma; he only wanted to find mysteries about his transmigration.
All his instincts told him his transmigration wasn't by coincidence or fate. Given the philosophy of the Living and Divine soul, he knew deep down something or someone was connected to his transmigration. Not that he wanted to go back to New Kowloon, but he just felt it was his responsibility to solve this mystery.
...And again, he prayed, truly prayed, for his transmigration to have nothing to do with the damned Miasma.
The dining hall was lively when he arrived. Darius was already at the table, shoveling pancakes into his mouth like he was starving. Riven sat across from him, sipping tea with the calm dignity of someone pretending not to be embarrassed by the barbarian beside her.
"Morning, shorty," Darius greeted with his mouth full.
"...Nice uniform. You look like you're about to join the chess club."
Zephyros glared at him, tugging his blazer straight.
"…At least I don't look like I wrestled the pancakes for dominance."
Riven nearly choked on her tea.
"Breakfast is serious business," Darius said, pointing his fork dramatically. "One day, you'll understand."
"Right. When I turn into a human vacuum cleaner."
The siblings locked eyes in a miniature staring contest until Riven intervened, sliding a plate across the table.
"Eat before you start fighting. Again."
...That's what both brothers had been doing for the past two weeks.
Zephyros sighed, sat down, and picked up his fork. The food was warm, fluffy, perfectly made by the mansion staff. Still, he chewed slowly, his stomach knotted by nerves.
"Not hungry?" Riven asked.
"Hungry," he admitted. "Just… nervous. First day and all that."
"You'll be fine." She reached across the table and nudged his plate closer. "Besides, if anyone bullies you, I'll..."
"She'll crush them," Darius cut in, grinning. "She's terrifying when she's mad."
Riven ignored him. "You're stronger than you think, Zeph."
Zephyros didn't argue, but his expression said he wasn't convinced. The other thing he figured out about the previous Zephyros was that the bastard only completed elementary school and left high school.
...And now, today, Le Wei was paying for it.
After the meal, he went out to meet his ride to school.
Driver Han was waiting by the car, as punctual as ever in his spotless black suit.
Zephyros slid into the back seat, still tugging at the stiff collar of his uniform. Han glanced at him through the rearview mirror.
"Young Master Zephyros, ready for your first day?"
Zephyros groaned. "It's Zephyros. Not bottled water."
Han only smiled.
Darius, sprawled comfortably in the front seat, chuckled. "Don't bother fighting it, kid. First week of school, someone's bound to give you a nickname. Might as well get used to it."
"Very reassuring," Zephyros muttered, pressing his forehead against the cool glass.
He saw Riven getting into another car; she was going to her school, the one for Ordained.
'Damn... So beautiful... Why don't they wear uniforms?'
The car rolled down the long driveway, morning sunlight spilling through the windows. For a while, no one spoke.
Zephyros stared at his reflection in the glass, his gray eyes looking back at him, too old for his boyish face. He tightened his grip on the backpack strap.
This wasn't just school to Le Wei. At its core, school was the best place to unravel mysteries and discover new things. Not because of the labs, libraries, or lessons. It was the students who attended.
Each of them came from a different household, be it pauper or influential. Yet, there was no doubt his school was going to be filled with spoiled brats. These brats came from influential families. Nothing screamed mysteries more than influential families.
...But there was one problem.
Fighting monsters was one thing. Pretending to be normal? That felt like the real challenge.
Some time later, Darius was dropped off in front of the sector, and then Zephyros was dropped off in front of his new school minutes later.
He stepped out of the car, said his goodbye, and faced the school.
The school was bigger than he expected. Wide stone steps led up to glass doors, and students in the same uniform as his were moving in groups, laughing, talking, or rushing as if the world would end if they were late.
Zephyros stood still for a second, gripping the straps of his backpack. Compared to fighting Silkfang Howlers or unraveling strange mysteries, walking into a building full of teenagers felt… strangely harder.
"…Great," he muttered.
"…I've faced hardened criminals, solved intense cases, died by potassium, and survived in a decayed forest against horrors, but now I'm back to facing math tests."
A group of girls walked past him, whispering and giggling. He caught a few glances, and his stomach tightened. With his childlike face, they probably thought he was someone's little brother who had wandered onto campus.
"Don't stare, don't stare…" he told himself quietly. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and started walking toward the doors.
Inside, the hallways buzzed with noise—shoes squeaking, lockers slamming, voices bouncing off the walls. For a moment, Zephyros felt like a stranger dropped into another world. Not a world of portals or mysteries, but a world of routine, homework, and... cafeteria food.
And in some ways… it was scarier.
His homeroom was on the second floor. After a long search, he found it after awkwardly checking the paper in his hand three times and ignoring the stares of passing students.
"Class 2-B… How the hell did he skip Class 1?" he whispered under his breath when he finally saw the sign above the door.
He hesitated before walking in. Should he introduce himself? Should he just slip in quietly? Jump in? Aura farming? Whatever that meant.
His mind ran through all the strategies he had used in solving mysteries, and none of them seemed helpful here.
In the end, he just pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The room was full of chatter until a few people noticed him. Slowly, the noise died down. Dozens of eyes turned toward him. Zephyros froze.
"…Uh." He cleared his throat. "Hi. I'm Zephyros. Transfer student."
He made sure to keep his surname a secret. Who knew how popular Conclaves were… especially the Milnar? He had learned a lot about the Milnars from Han, but all that could be explored later. Now, he had other problems...
'I totally blew it.'
He regretted it instantly. His voice cracked halfway, and he felt his ears heat up.
A boy from the back snickered.
Someone whispered, "He looks like a kid…"
Another voice added, "Isn't he too small for this class?"
Zephyros forced himself not to react. He had been called worse by hardened criminals and… Darius, of course.
He walked to the empty seat by the window and sat down, placing his bag carefully beside him.
In front of him was a girl with pink hair and round eyes. She looked his height but didn't possess the childlike face he had. She stared at him and then quickly looked away.
"What? You don't have cute boys in your household? Hehehe. Wait, did I say that too loud?"
The girl turned to him with an angry expression and pulled out her pen, aiming the sharp point at his neck.
Zephyros swallowed hard.
...At least the teacher walked in a moment later, sparing him from the deadly pen and more attention.
'Ouch.'
He was wrong, the teacher could not save him from the wrath of the pen.
****
The first period was history. The teacher droned on about ancient wars, scribbling dates and names on the board. Zephyros tried to focus, but his eyes kept drifting to the window. Outside, the trees swayed gently in the wind, and for some reason, it made him think of the misty forests he had walked through two weeks ago.
The only part he paid attention to was when the teacher talked about the Miasma. Apparently, Miasma was a generally integrated topic in every subject, and this made avoiding it harder for Zephyros.
"Parasite…" he muttered under his breath without realizing.
The girl in front of him turned and frowned. "What?"
"Nothing." Zephyros waved her off quickly.
The truth was, he couldn't stop thinking about it. Even here, surrounded by the normal hum of school life, the word haunted him. Parasite. A shadow feeding off him, and yet… keeping him alive.
He shook his head and scribbled nonsense in his notebook, pretending to take notes.
About half an hour later, the class ended, and another teacher arrived. She was a woman who looked to be in her early twenties. Zephyros paid attention to her teachings because she was literally an Ordained, and her subject was based on Miasma and also because she was... true beauty.
'No, just her teachings.'
Her class ended sooner than he expected. It had the same duration as the first class; Zephyros just lost track of time and wasn't exactly bored in the woman's class.
...Finally, it was lunch break.
By lunch break, Zephyros was already exhausted. Not from the lessons, but from the constant effort of pretending he fit in.
The cafeteria was a sea of noise and clattering trays. He stood at the entrance, tray in hand, scanning the tables. Everyone was already in their little groups—friends laughing, athletes boasting, girls gossiping. He had no group.
"First day, and I'm already the lone wolf," he muttered. "How dramatic."
He spotted an empty seat in the corner and made his way there. Sitting down, he poked at the food. Rice, soup, and something that might have been meat. It wasn't bad, but compared to Riven's cooking over the past two weeks… well, nothing really compared.
'Aah... Better make her my official waifu soon,' he smiled.
The smile disappeared when a shadow fell over him.
"You're the transfer, right?"
Zephyros looked up. A tall boy with short brown hair was standing there, tray balanced in one hand. Behind him were two others, clearly his friends.
"Yeah," Zephyros replied cautiously.
The boy grinned. "You look younger than us. What are you, twelve?"
His friends snickered.
Zephyros sighed. He had expected this. "Older than I look," he said simply, returning to his food.
But the boy didn't leave. He leaned closer. "What kind of name is Zephyros, anyway? Sounds fake."
Zephyros raised an eyebrow. "Better than yours. What was it? Generic Bully #1?" He gestured with his hands, emphasizing the hashtag.
The laughter stopped. The boy's smile faltered. His friends exchanged glances.
For a moment, Zephyros thought he had gone too far. But then the boy chuckled and sat down across from him.
"You've got a mouth, I'll give you that. Name's Kieran."
"…Zephyros."
"Yeah, I got that. Welcome to 2-B, kid."
It wasn't exactly a warm welcome, but it wasn't a fight either. Zephyros figured that was a win. For some reason, he felt he had found his perfect foe and also a perfect friend.
A frenemy.