"Move it, fatty! Out of my way!"
The words came sharp and loud, followed by a rough shove to Baston's shoulder. The bell had just rung, signaling the end of class and the corridor outside of Prius Academy's classroom instantly turned into a churning
river of students. Baston staggered sideways, barely keeping his balance as many students rushed past him like he was nothing more than an inconvenient
obstacle.
No one apologized and Not even one looked back. It was such pitiful scene. This wasn't the first time. It was already many times that he had forgotten the count.
Baston lowered his head and quietly adjusted his student's robe, ignoring the snickers that followed him down the hallway. His slightly round body made him an easy target. He was always easy to mock, to push, and to forget.
Unlike many people at the academy, Baston was bullied not by older students, but by his own classmates. The reason was simple. He was fat and he was also poor. In a place that proudly claimed equality, those two traits were enough to place him at the very bottom.
The academy loved to boast about fairness. It provided equal education, equal opportunity, and equal treatment under the kingdom's laws. But Baston had learned very quickly that ideals meant nothing when people were involved. He had only been in this world for a month but that was more than
enough time to understand the truth.
Fairness was a luxury. That thing was not meant for people like him. A month ago, Baston hadn't belonged to this world at all. He still remembered it clearly.
The smell of pine trees, the cold mountain air, and the crunch of gravel beneath his boots as he walked through the forest during a weekend camping trip. Nothing much happened as usual, yet suddenly, the
shocking sound came to him.
A deep rumbling crack reverberated harshly. Out of nowhere, a landslide occurred nearby. He turned just in time to see the slope above him collapsed. Rocks, dirt, and trees gathered together. Everything rushed down in a violent wave. There was no time to run that he even barely could scream.
A single massive rock struck him squarely in the chest and the world went dark. The pain was brief and he soon forgot about the fear.
After all, death had already embraced him tightly.
He couldn't do nothing in that situation. Even though he struggled hard to move, his fingers even refused to lift. His brain suddenly felt disconnected toward his muscle. This time, his life was revealed fully. He had many memories that he didn't want to forget. He had many plans he wanted to
fulfill. There were still many unfinished dreams he got inside his head. His future was still bright and he was still too young to leave.
All of it ended in an instant. He thought it was the end. When he opened his eyes again, he expected darkness if he really came to hell. A light when he visited the heaven. There was also a possibility of nothing at all since his life came to an end.
Instead, he found himself staring at a cracked wooden ceiling, breathing shallowly in a body that didn't feel like his own. At first,
he thought it was a dream. A strange and vivid dream filled with unfamiliar sounds and smells. After all, he was alive even though he just experienced death.
But as the days passed, the truth became impossible to deny. He had transmigrated into another world. Not into a heroic body blessed by fate and not into a noble lineage with endless resources. He had woken up as a fat boy from the lowest class of society. The realization was disappointing. At times, he wasn't even sure whether he should feel grateful for being alive at all.
This world resembled medieval times but it wasn't primitive. Magic existed here from a long time ago. It was woven into daily life deeply that it shaped technology in strange and unexpected ways. One of the clearest
examples lay in his hands which was a thick old book with a worn leather cover and faintly glowing runes etched along its spine.
At first glance, it looked ancient but it was worn down by time. Somehow, it felt painfully fitting with his current living. Everything
about his situation seemed equally miserable. His place was at the bottom of
society, his living space was damp and moldy, and now this dilapidated book. For a brief moment, he wanted to scream at the unfairness he had. But the thought passed just as quickly. After all, no one would listen.
After a few steady breaths, he forced himself to calm down. Lamenting his fate wouldn't change it. Right now, he was nothing more than a poor student in an unfamiliar world. He needed to act like one so he could mingle with people around. With that thought in mind, he lowered his gaze and focused on the old book in his hands. He thought the content would be also dilapidated as the cover yet he was wrong.
When he opened it for the first time, he nearly dropped it in shock. The pages shifted and rearranged themselves before projecting faint lines of glowing text into the air. It was kind of magic book with magic
interface. This thing should be common because after all, he was living in the world of sword and magic.
Anyway, every student in the academy possessed one. The wealthier students owned sleek and advanced versions with crystal-clear displays. It had faster response and countless extra features. However, his old book was outdated.
The display flickered and the response lagged. Some functions seemed to be damaged. Thankfully, it still worked. That was enough for his current situation. To him who came from a world filled with smartphones and tablets, the old book felt strangely familiar. Inside, the pages displayed his personal information.
His name was Baston and his age was 15 years old. It was stated that he could attend this academy because of compulsory education. This law came from the kingdom and everyone had to obey it, including the poor him. However, there was a catch. He couldn't choose the one he wanted to attend. The fact that he came and stayed at this academy located at the small town had
already explained something.
Prius Academy wasn't famous. The place also wasn't elite. But still, it was legitimate. The kingdom mandated compulsory education for all citizens regardless of status. For a certain number of years, everyone whether they came from noble, merchant, commoner, or poor had to attend an academy. It was one of the kingdom's proudest laws. On the surface, it was admirable.
The academy taught general knowledge, literacy, mathematics, and history. It also introduced students to magic. Not just as a weapon but as a tool for development. Magic in this world came from mana, an invisible energy permeating the air. With training, people could sense mana, draw it into their
bodies, and manipulate it. The wizards converted mana into elemental spells.
The knights reinforced their bodies with it. The craftsmen used it to strengthen tools, improve efficiency, or activate magic devices.
Magic wasn't rare since it was everywhere. People could access it freely as long as they had ability. Yet, despite having the same
fundamentals, the outcomes were vastly different. After all, the world was rigidly divided. There were five social ranks. At the very bottom were destitute poor. Above them, there were commoners followed by merchants at next. After that, the status changed entirely as nobles. And at the peak, the royalty ruled above everyone.
Baston now occupied the lowest rung. It was the worst possible starting point. While nobles entered the academy with private guards, high-quality equipment, and endless allowances, Baston came with nothing but an outdated old book and an empty stomach. It was true that the academy accepted everyone. However, acceptance didn't mean equality. Baston understood this
better than anyone.
During the first week after his transmigration, he had still clung to naïve hope. He believed that as long as he worked harder, listened
carefully, and followed the rules, things would eventually improve. That belief didn't last long.
He saw how teachers lingered longer beside noble desks, offering additional explanations in hushed voices. He noticed how questions
from merchants' children were answered patiently while those from the commoners
and poor were brushed aside with vague replies. No one said it outright but the
message was clear. Effort alone wasn't enough. In this academy, potential was
measured not just by talent but by money and power.
At first, the unfairness burned him. Each slight and each dismissive glance pressed down on his chest like a weight. There were nights when he lay awake on the narrow dormitory bed, staring at the ceiling and
wondering if fate had played a cruel joke on him. Dying once only to be reborn into a life even more suffocating than before. What kind of reward was that? But, this bitterness alone couldn't fill his stomach.
Slowly, Baston began to change the way he thought. If brute strength and money ruled this place then charging forward blindly would only get him crushed. His survival came first while his pride could come later.
Because of this, he observed intently.
He watched how students interacted. Who spoke loudly, who stayed silent, who bullied openly, and who did it through others. He memorized schedules, shortcuts, and blind spots. He learned when to lower his head and when to disappear. If this world valued strength then he would grow strong. If it worshiped status then he would climb. But not now since it wasn't his time yet.
For now, Baston would play the role everyone expected of him. The timid and harmless fat boy at the bottom of the academy. After all, no one feared a pig. No one ever noticed when a pig learned how to sharpen its tusks. The academy didn't hate the poor. It simply didn't need them. Teachers were paid salaries. The facilities cost money and resources were limited. Because of this, the system bent quietly and efficiently in favor of those who could pay.
After all, it couldn't go free forever just as what the academy intended to.
The Nobles received private guidance. The merchants bought better materials. The commoners scraped the rest. And the poor were left to survive alone. It was fair as many people said. After all, money and status
were also forms of strength.
By the time lunch break arrived, Baston's stomach was already growling. The cafeteria buzzed with noise as students flooded in. It
was divided cleanly into two sections. One side for ordinary students and the other side for nobles. The difference was impossible to ignore.
In the ordinary section, students crowded around long counters, forming messy lines. The air was thick with noise, impatience, and
hunger. In the noble section, students sat comfortably at polished tables. They
ordered from menus and waiters brought their meals directly. Private rooms even
existed for those who didn't want to be disturbed.
"Damn it… It's crowded again," Baston muttered, "At this rate, I'll spend the whole break just standing here."
The academy provided a free lunch for those who couldn't afford meals. A sandwich plus a drink which was quite enough to survive.
Unfortunately, it wasn't enough to be satisfied. The students who couldn't afford meal only needed to show their identity card. It would be scanned by a magic device before a selected meal was provided. Baston already knew what he'd get.
"A sandwich and a drink…" he thought bitterly, "This body needs at least twice of that."
Nearby, a group of students laughed as they waited for their custom meals.
"Look at that line. It's ridiculous," one said.
"Don't mock them," another replied casually, "They just don't have money."
"True. At least my father understands. He said lining up like that was dangerous."
"By the time they get food, break time's almost over."
"That's why free meals aren't worth it."
Baston kept his head down. He'd heard worse. Fifteen minutes later, he finally reached the counter. A plain sandwich with a small drink. It was quite pitiful meal but he ate it quickly. One bite, two bites, and it went
continuously before the food was gone. Still, the hunger remained. It wasn't enough. He knew it. He understood the cause. He realized he needed more. But since he had no money, he couldn't afford additional dishes. Life was indeed cruel to him.
When the bell rang again, Baston threw the empty wrapper away and followed the others back to class. The afternoon lesson was all theory and mind-numbing. The elderly teacher droned on about magic applications in civil infrastructure, lighting systems, and communication devices. It was deemed as important and necessary but this lesson was unbearably boring. Nobles lounged at the back with half-asleep eyes while the poor and commoners sat at the front, forced to stay alert. They couldn't yawn since it was forbidden. If they dared to sleep, punishment would await. A paper ball suddenly flew through the air, propelled by magic and smacked into a student's forehead.
"Pay attention," the teacher said calmly.
"Yes, teacher…"
The class laughed. The embarrassed student clenched his jaw. His gaze drifted forward and landed on Baston. The fat boy was innocent but his status cursed him to always become a scapegoat. After class, Baston felt it immediately. That unpleasant pressure of being watched. He hadn't even reached the dormitory path when someone blocked his way.
"Hey, fat pig…" someone said, making Baston stopped, "You laughed at me earlier, didn't you?"
The insult came from Panto. He was a son of wealthy merchant. Surrounded by lackeys, he dared to do anything he wanted. People
quietly backed away since no one wanted to get involved. Baston knew how this
usually ended but he wasn't the same person he had been before.
"I… I don't know what you're talking about," Baston said softly, "Please don't hurt me."
"Liar!"
"You laughed!"
"Teach him a lesson!"
The group closed in. And then, Baston ran immediately.
"Help! Someone help me!"
He bolted through a narrow gap, surprisingly fast for his size. The laughter behind him soon echoed loudly.
"Did you see that pig run?"
"Survival instinct, huh?"
Panto laughed, feeling satisfied over his fake strength. Baston disappeared into the dormitory and from the shadows, he watched them leave. A faint glint of cold light flashed through his eyes. They could laugh whenever they wanted. His body might be weak currently but he believed it was temporary. Someday, he would make them regret it.