If I had known complaining about a game would get me killed... well, not killed, but reassigned but I would've kept my mouth shut.
Probably.
Okay, no, I still would've complained.
Because seriouslywho designs a game like that?
"Why would he pick her?!"
I slammed my mouse like it personally betrayed me. On screen, the protagonist of Heavenly Path: Murim Ascension stood bathed in golden light, holding the hand of the so-called "main heroine."
Elegant, pure and kind.
Boring.
"Out of all the heroines, you picked Miss Holy Saintness?" I leaned closer to the monitor like the pixels could hear me. "What about the yandere demon girl? She literally tried to stab you and then blushed."
...
Of course the PC didn't respond. Just soft background music and the heroine smiling like she'd never committed a crime in her life.
Disgusting.
I clicked through the ending scenes faster, skipping dialogue I'd already read five times. This was my sixth playthrough, and I still couldn't accept it.
"Cold Sect Genius? Ignored. Healer Girl? Friend-zoned. Yandere demon Girl? Vanished halfway through the story!"
I threw my hands in the air. "This game is a scam."
And don't even get me started on the tutorial villain.
That guy.
Absolute trash.
Zero-star talent with ugly personality. He exists only to get beaten up in the first hour so the protagonist looks cool.
"Honestly, if I were in that world, I'd do better than him with my eyes closed."
A few hours later, I was lying in bed, phone in hand, still scrolling through forums.
"Best heroine debate (FINAL)"
Top comment: "The main heroine is objectively the best choice."
I gagged.
"Objection!"
"Objectively wrong," I muttered, typing a reply that would definitely start a war.
My eyes grew heavy.
I blinked.
Once.
Twice.
"Whatever…" I mumbled, tossing my phone aside. "If I were the MC, I'd just take all of them."
I yawned, pulling the blanket over my head.
"Man… I'd even make that tutorial villain useful…"
Darkness swallowed my vision.
Then
Pain.
My eyes snapped open.
"Run!"
I didn't question it.
I didn't analyze it.
I just ran.
Branches whipped against my face as I sprinted through a dense forest. My body felt lighter than usual, but also weaker like it belonged to someone who had never exercised a day in their life.
Which, to be fair, could still be me.
"Why am I running?!" I wheezed.
Behind me—
Footsteps.
Not the kind of footsteps you hear from someone chasing you in panic.
No.
These were the footsteps of someone who already knew how this would end.
A cold sweat dripped down my back.
"This is a dream," I said out loud, because denial is a powerful coping mechanism. "Yep. Definitely a dream. I probably fell asleep watching some action scenes—"
A blade whistled past my ear.
I screamed.
"NOT A DREAM?!"
I tripped over a root, face-planting into the dirt.
My body refused to get up.
Footsteps stopped behind me.
Oppressive.
I slowly turned my head.
A man in black stood a few meters away, face hidden behind a mask. His sword gleamed faintly under the moonlight, clean and precise.
An assassin.
Because why wouldn't my dream include a professional killer?
"Please tell me you're just a figment of my imagination," I said weakly.
He didn't respond.
He raised his hand.
Something flickered through the air.
And then.
Darkness.
Voice.
Distant at first, like hearing people talk underwater.
"…young master…"
"…too late…"
"…poisoned…"
"Still breathing!"
My consciousness floated somewhere between awake and asleep.
Young master?
Who?
Not me. I could barely afford instant noodles.
"Damn those bastards," another voice said.
My brain tried to process that.
"Quick, carry him. We need to return to the estate before dawn."
I felt myself being lifted.
My body swayed slightly, and I resisted the urge to throw up—mostly because I wasn't sure if I even could in this half-dead state.
"…if anything happens to the young master…"
"…the clan will—"
The rest faded.
When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in bed.
A fancy bed.
Silk sheets. Wooden carvings. The whole ancient rich-person aesthetic.
I stared at the ceiling.
"…Huh."
I raised my hand.
Turned it.
Flexed my fingers.
"…Huh."
Definitely not my hand.
Too pale.
Too smooth.
Too… pampered.
I sat up slowly.
"Okay," I said, very calmly. "Let's think."
Step one: assess the situation.
Step two: panic.
"This is a dream," I concluded.
Obviously.
I mean, what else could it be?
Random forest chase. Assassin. Fancy room.
Classic dream logic.
To confirm, I did the most scientific thing possible.
I slapped myself.
Smack!
I froze.
"…Ow."
That hurt.
A lot.
I paused.
Waited.
Nothing changed.
No wake-up.
No transition.
No "It's a prank!" moment.
Just me, sitting on a bed, cheek stinging.
"…Oh," I said.
Then I started laughing.
Not a dignified chuckle.
Not a nervous giggle.
No.
Full-on, slightly unhinged laughter.
"HAHAHAHA—this is amazing!"
Because if this was a dream?
Best dream ever.
And if it wasn't?
…Well.
Still kind of amazing.
I swung my legs off the bed, nearly tripping because apparently this body had the balance of a newborn deer.
"Alright," I said, steadying myself. "Let's see where I am—"
The door burst open.
A young man rushed in, dressed in servant robes, eyes wide with relief.
"Young master!"
I blinked.
He blinked.
We stared at each other.
"…Yes?"
He rushed to my side, grabbing my arm like I might disappear.
"You're awake! Thank the heavens, you're awake! I thought… I thought we lost you…"
I looked down at him.
Then at myself.
Then back at him.
"…Quick question," I said. "On a scale of one to ten, how real does this feel to you?"
He froze.
"…Young master?"
"Just answer the question."
"…Ten?"
I nodded.
"Great. Same here."
Which meant—
Oh.
Oh no.
A sharp pain stabbed my head.
Memories flooded in.
Not mine.
But his.
A name.
A status.
A reputation.
And unfortunately—
A very, very familiar role.
"…No way," I whispered.
The servant looked alarmed. "Young master, are you alright?"
I ignored him.
Because there was only one thought in my head.
Tutorial villain.
Zero-star talent.
Clan disgrace.
Destined to get beaten half to death in the opening arc.
"…You've got to be kidding me."
Out of all the characters.
Out of all the possibilities.
I became him?
I grabbed my head.
"This is rigged," I muttered.
"Young master, please rest—"
"Do I look like I can rest?!"
He flinched.
Right.
Maybe yelling at the only loyal person here wasn't a good start.
I took a deep breath.
Exhaled.
"Sorry," I said. "Continue… being concerned."
He nodded, clearly confused but too polite to question it.
Good man.
I stood up again, pacing the room.
"Okay. Let's think."
If this really was that world—
Then I knew exactly what came next.
The assassination attempt.
The return to the clan.
And then—
The humiliation arc.
Where the protagonist shows up, beats me senseless, and starts his legend.
"…Yeah, no."
Not happening.
Not on my watch.
I stopped pacing.
Straightened my back.
"For the record," I said, pointing at absolutely nothing, "I refuse to follow the script."
Silence.
Then—
A voice calm mechanical voiced echoed through me head
[Loading...]
I froze.
"…Oh."
[System Activated]
I slowly turned my head, like I might see the source.
Nothing.
Just empty air.
"…I knew it," I whispered. "I knew this kind of thing would happen."
Because of course it would.
Transmigration?
Check.
Trash character?
Check.
Near-death experience?
Check.
System?
Bingo.
A faint blue screen flickered into existence before me.
[Welcome, Host.]
[You have been selected as the inheritor of the Dual Path System.]
[Classification: Alchemy & Martial Optimization System]
I stared at it.
Then I grinned.
"Oh, this is going to be fun."
[Main Quest Generated]
[Quest: Survive the Prologue]
[Description: You have been reincarnated into a predetermined death scenario. Avoid your scripted demise.]
[Time Limit: 7 days]
[Reward: Beginner Alchemy Manual, Body Refinement Pill x3]
[Failure: Permanent Death]
"…Wait."
I leaned closer.
"Permanent?"
The screen did not elaborate.
I crossed my arms.
"Alright," I said. "Let me get this straight."
I ticked off my fingers.
"I got isekai'd into my favorite game."
"Not as the hero."
"Not as a genius."
"But as the worst possible character with a death flag already installed."
[Correct.]
"And now I have seven days to not die."
[Correct.]
"And if I fail, I die for real."
[Correct.]
I nodded slowly.
"…Yeah, that sounds about right."
I looked at my reflection in a nearby bronze mirror.
A pale face.
Slightly handsome.
Definitely not intimidating.
More like… punchable.
"…We're going to have to fix that."
I cracked my knuckles.
Then immediately winced because they hurt.
Right.
Zero-star talent.
Forgot about that.
No problem.
I turned back to the floating screen, grin widening.
"Alchemy system, huh?"
If I couldn't rely on talent—
Then I'd cheat.
"Alright," I said. "Let's break the game."
Somewhere far away—
Fate shifted.
Just a little.
And the "tutorial villain" who was supposed to die quietly…
Started becoming something else.
Something the story was never designed to handle.
And honestly?
I couldn't stop smiling.
"Seven days, huh?"
Plenty of time.
Probably.
Hopefully.
"…Okay, maybe not plenty."
But enough.
More than enough.
Because this time—
I wasn't the one getting beaten in the prologue.
I was the one rewriting it.
And maybe I'd even fix the heroine choices while I'm at it.
Because seriously.
That main heroine?
Still a terrible pick.