Saruto sat on the edge of a silky golden bed, his hands clasped together, fingers laced and hovering near his mouth.
His blank stare fixed on the mirror across from him. The room was silent, no maid, no noise. just him, and his spiraling thoughts.
'So… all my hard work is wasted? Just to get transported into one of my favorite games? No—wait—it's not even the game. This is the official lore world the MOBA devs cooked up as background flavor text!'
His jaw tightened. His thoughts reached a boiling point.
"YOU GOTTA BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!!"
The shout echoed, muffled but still forceful enough that even the magic enchanted, sound-proofed walls struggled to keep it contained.
Somewhere down the hall, a faint "Young Master?" could be heard, followed by confused silence.
Saruto slumped forward, burying his face into his palms. "Out of all the heroes I could possess, it had to be this garbage asshole!"
He groaned so loud it sounded like the death cry of a broken office worker, although he's already one.
A moment later, he collapsed back onto the bed, golden sheets pooling around him. His voice dropped into tired acceptance.
Sigh heavily, "From what I remember… this body belong to a hero called Crowbar Guy, not even a real name. My favorite hero to use in the game… but the lore? God, I hate it the most."
He rolled onto his back, staring at the intricate chandelier above.
Inside his mind, the commentary began again.
'Gameplay-wise, Crowbar Guy is a top meta pick. His kit is insane—heavy crowd control, bruiser stats, and that busted passive. The longer he fights, the stronger he gets.'
'Bonus damage, reduced incoming damage… the passive even has a cool name: Aggressive. Perfect for snowballing. And since he's a starter hero, everybody knows how to use him. Easy pick, high reward.'
Saruto exhaled through his nose. His expression hardened.
"BUT!!" His voice cracked into the air, rattling the bedframe. "I absolutely hate his official lore! Why the hell does he have to start out as some arrogant, trash-tier noble brat?!"
He sat upright, pointing an accusing finger at the mirror as if scolding the reflection itself. "The son of a baron, hated by everyone because he's a spoiled prick! Of course he was doomed!"
His voice gradually dropped, the anger bleeding into weary sarcasm.
"Anyways… later on, his life turns into complete hell. First, he disrespects the duke's daughter aka his forced-fiancé and arrogantly challenges her to a duel."
"Naturally, he gets humiliated and loses pathetically cuz she's one of the lore hero too. Boom. Family destroyed. Title stripped. His own citizens chasing him out with pitchforks."
Saruto flopped back down again, one arm across his eyes.
"But his noble pride stays intact. The guy can't drop the act. Every town he wanders into, he gets kicked out. Then he's kidnapped by traffickers. Noble to beggar, beggar to slave—spiraling downward until…"
He let out a long exhale, the memory of the lore sour in his mouth.
"…until he finally snaps. Driven to insanity, he grabs a random crowbar and starts his so-called 'anti-hero redemption arc.' which is cringy as hell."
Saruto's tone turned bitter.
"Halfway through his climb back up, he dies. Brutally. Killed by none other than the duke's daughter, the same woman who ruined his life. Well… to be fair, he ruined himself first. Still… what a trash story."
He threw an pillow at the mirror with all his frustration. "WHO WRITES THIS STUFF?!"
Started ranting to no one but himself. "AT LEAST ADJUST THE STORY TO HIM APOLOGIZING TO HER INSTEAD OF BEING DRIVEN BY REVENGE!"
"OR BETTER YET! CHANGE THE ENTIRE STORY SO HE'S NOT A PRIDEFUL SHIT-HEAD!"
As Saruto raged, a thought hit him like lightning. His eyes widened, a figurative lightbulb popping above his head, only for him to snatch it and toss it aside with a grunt.
"Wait a sec… aren't I literally him now?" His tone dropped low and thoughtful.
"And I've actually got a good startup here, don't I? If I jus—"
The door suddenly burst open.
"AH?!" Saruto jolted upright, his sentence cut off as he whipped his head toward the intruder.
Standing there was a young man around the same age as his new body, or maybe a little younger.
He had everything Saruto didn't: blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, a lean, muscular frame. In short, he looked like a model hero ripped straight out of a recruitment poster.
"Elder Brother!" the young man shouted, fists clenched. "Why did you destroy the elderly couple's restaurant just because the food didn't taste good?!"
Saruto froze, the memory clicking into place.
'Right… I forgot. This so-called good-startup comes with a catch: his trashy reputation.'
He exhaled, long and weary, leaving the blonde man visibly confused. Slowly, Saruto pushed himself up off the bed and approached.
'Since I'm already flagged as a bad guy… might as well live the part. Just… with a little less dignity.'
He placed both hands gently on the man's shoulders, looking him dead in the eye.
"I'm sorry… for what I'm about to do to you." His voice trembled, tears welling up for dramatic effect.
The man's brow furrowed. "Wha—??"
Saruto's knee shot up. A light but direct strike landed squarely on his target. The blonde man's face twisted, but before the scream could escape his throat, Saruto covered his mouth with one hand.
"Shhh…" Saruto whispered, easing him down toward the floor like a lover parting ways. "It's okay. You had a righteous heart… but not the balls."
The man collapsed in silence, eyes rolled back, body trembling in agony that he couldn't release. Saruto solemnly closed his eyelids with two fingers, sealing the scene like a melodramatic play.
Then, Saruto bent down, scooped the blonde dude up in his arms, and cradled him like a princess. His mouth was still forcefully covered, muffling whatever pitiful sound tried to escape.
To any onlooker, the man looked like he was dying from embarrassment, humiliation, crying and pain.
Saruto, however, walked gracefully toward the open window. With the poise of someone tossing out a piece of trash, he simply leaned forward and dropped him out, not a single hesitation at all.
He dusted off his hands, brushing them clean like nothing had ever happened.
'Hm... That blonde guy? he's probably Crowbar Guy's younger brother, meaning he's an hero but I never used him before, despite having the most broken ultimate that grant him a second life through sheer determination.'
Saruto thought, his expression turning oddly sentimental.
'His hero lore is simple, but still cool. Born as a noble with no talent in swordsmanship, yet he clawed his way up through sheer grit and effort.'
"Just like me..." Wiping the fake tear dramatically as he walked away, sobbing an eyeful of droplet.
"But I accidentally ruined it. Now… it's carved into the record of his lore."
Behind the act, a crooked and devious smile spread across his mask expression.
'Hehehehe…' But the grin froze instantly.
Right in front of him stood the same maid from earlier. She had returned, carrying a silver tray with a teapot and cups neatly set upon it.
Her voice was sweet and gentle. "Ohh~ Young Master, your tea is ready. And don't worry… I didn't see a single thing. So your evidence is safe!" Beaming with innocent and sisterly affection.
Saruto's face locked into a flat expression. Unfortunately, on his new body, that flat look came off as… well, more like a perverted grin by default.
Inside, his thoughts spun. 'That's literally admitting you saw the whole thing…'
Then, as his brain clicked into gear, his expression shifted into quiet thoughtfulness.
'Hm. Now that I think about it… she's also one of the lore heroes.'
His eyes narrowed as he studied her carefully. 'Quiet footsteps. A sisterly, affectionate tone. It's obvious. That's Elena, the assassin-mage hero… disguised in a maid outfit.'
*
To be continued.
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Synchronization: 000.3%