Michael had achieved the FFF rank—a talent reaper title that spoke of death itself. His stats told a grim story: strength zero, agility zero, mana zero, speed zero, vitality zero. Only his health registered at three out of three. Everything was abysmal, and Caleb knew exactly where those stats would lead. He'd read this scene a dozen times in his previous life, memorized every cruel detail.
Laughter erupted throughout the academy, wave after wave of cruel mockery. Students doubled over, clutching their sides as if Michael's failure was the funniest thing they'd ever witnessed. Some pointed openly at the Awakening circle, their fingers like daggers. Others whispered behind cupped hands, spreading the humiliation like wildfire. Eventually, when everyone had exhausted their amusement, Michael left the circle. He trudged to his seat at the back of the class, eyes lifeless, face buried in his hands. The weight of humiliation pressed down on his shoulders like a physical thing, threatening to crush him entirely.
"I wonder what would happen if I just stayed low-key," Caleb mused to himself, watching the broken figure retreat. "If I simply remained a side character and watched Michael's journey unfold." Part of him felt a twinge of sympathy—no one deserved this level of public degradation. But another part remembered the edgy revenge arc that would follow, the unnecessary cruelty Michael would inflict on everyone once he gained power.
The professor raised his hand, cutting through the lingering snickers. His expression was unreadable, professional. "All right, everyone. You are free to do whatever you wish."
Then came the words that made Michael's stomach drop. "Michael, to my office."
Caleb watched Michael's face drain of what little color remained. The boy looked like he might be sick right there in the classroom. Without waiting to see more, Caleb stood and walked toward his dormitory, his mind already racing with plans. He opened the door and found his two roommates inside—Emily Star and Billy Gray. In the original story, these two would become side characters killed off during a monster invasion. Disposable. Forgotten. Plot devices to raise the stakes and make Michael angrier, more determined, more edgy. But Caleb wouldn't let that happen. After all, his job was to ruin the story and throw it off balance as much as possible.
His two roommates would die around chapter 221—still a long while away, but their deaths felt inevitable in the original timeline. Caleb remembered the exact paragraph where Emily's body was described, broken and lifeless beneath rubble. He remembered Billy's final words, wasted on a protagonist who barely acknowledged them. Caleb would change that. He would balance everything, ensure the main character got what he deserved, and then kill the plot by saving these two individuals from murder. By keeping them alive, he would imbalance the story significantly. That was his goal: to disrupt the narrative, to ensure he became the protagonist while Michael remained just some powerful edgelord who had a minor hand in defeating the Demon King.
Caleb knew he couldn't defeat the Demon King alone—he wasn't delusional about his own abilities. But he'd at least let Michael participate, throw him a bone. If he really wanted to unbalance the story, he could simply let monsters kill Michael during one of the early arcs—then the story would have no protagonist at all. But where was the fun in that? Where was the satisfaction in watching a broken kid die before he even got started?
"Can you believe it?" Billy's voice cut through Caleb's thoughts, pulling him back to the present. "Michael got an FFF rank talent! Man, that must suck. I mean, I have a C rank, but still—that's way better than FFF. An F rank is already bad enough, but FFF? You might as well not even have an Awakening talent at all." Billy shook his head, genuine disbelief coloring his tone. He wasn't being cruel, just stating what seemed like obvious facts.
Emily remained silent, her expression thoughtful and sympathetic. She bit her lower lip, clearly troubled by what they'd witnessed. For such a kind person, Caleb had almost choked up when he first read chapter 221, where both she and Billy died. He remembered sitting in his room in his old world, reading that chapter with growing horror, his hands trembling as he scrolled through the brutal descriptions. The monster outbreak inside the academy had been massive—monsters ravaging the city, destroying everything and everyone in their path. Of course, plot armor had screamed for the main character Michael to survive, but one of the nicest female leads the author had created, along with Billy, had died in that chapter. Their deaths had served no purpose except to fuel Michael's rage, to make him brood harder, fight more recklessly.
Caleb had honestly hoped Emily might become Michael's girlfriend or something, provide some light to balance the darkness. But the protagonist was far too edgy for romance, too consumed by his revenge fantasies and self-pity. So Caleb had known that wouldn't happen, had watched the potential relationship wither before it even began.
His mind flowed back to the present. He looked around the dormitory and saw Emily and Billy still chatting away, their voices a comforting backdrop. They were so alive, so real, so unaware of the fate that had been written for them. Caleb felt a fierce protectiveness surge through his chest.
"No matter what, I'll let these two survive," Caleb said quietly to himself, the words a solemn vow. "And I'll make sure I imbalance the story so much that even the author won't know what I'll do next." He smiled slightly, imagining some cosmic writer somewhere frantically rewriting their outline.
Caleb stood up, stretching his arms above his head. "Hey, I'm going to get a glass of water. Does anyone want to come with me?"
Emily walked over, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Her movements were graceful, natural. "Yeah, sure. I'll come." She seemed grateful for the excuse to move, to do something with her hands.
"Nah, I'll stay back," Billy said, not looking up from his game. The glow of the screen reflected off his face. "I already had some water just a few hours ago, so I'm pretty good."
"You sure?" Caleb pressed, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah, I'm sure." Billy waved them off without breaking his focus, his fingers dancing across the controller as they headed out.
Caleb had picked this exact time to get water for a reason. This was when Michael would leave the professor's office and begin his internal monologue about everyone hating him—which was honestly very edgy but entertaining in its own cringe-worthy way. He wanted Emily to experience what an edgy protagonist could actually be like, to see the warning signs early. Of course, she didn't know she was in a novel, didn't understand that her entire existence had been scripted. But she didn't need to know that to recognize this guy was probably one of the edgiest people on any web novel website.
Caleb wished Emily could experience web novels the way he had, could understand the tropes and clichés that governed their world. After all, he'd gotten to read them because he wasn't originally from this world—he was from real life, from a place where stories were just stories. He wished he could show her all the web novels out there, both the slop and the good ones, the masterpieces and the garbage fires. Stories like *Lord of the Mysteries*, *Shadow Slave*, *Reverend Insanity*—he wished he could share those with her, discuss the plot twists and character development over coffee. He wished he could show everyone these web novels, open their eyes to the narrative structures that bound them.
But he had three goals now, crystallized in his mind like commandments. First, to make fun of the protagonist's edginess as much as possible during his time in this new world. Second, to disrupt the balance of this novel completely, to shatter every expectation. Third, to meet the author so he could thank him—or possibly punch him, depending on his mood. Caleb knew the author was probably some type of deity or god, some cosmic entity who'd created this entire universe with a keyboard. But he still wanted to meet the person who had created the book he'd read for so long, who had consumed months of his previous life. He wanted to meet the person who had dedicated 3,401 chapters to his readers, who had built this intricate world. Caleb had no idea how much time the author had lost writing this web novel, how many sleepless nights and abandoned social obligations it had cost. But it didn't matter—he wasn't in real life anymore. He was living inside the novel he had read, breathing the same air as characters who'd once been nothing but words on a screen.
As they walked toward the kitchen area, Michael emerged from the professor's office. He walked down the halls toward the same destination, mumbling to himself like a method actor preparing for a role. His shoulders were hunched, his gait defeated. Caleb knew that in about five or six seconds, the monologue would start—he'd memorized the timing perfectly.
"Why does everyone have to hate me?" Michael muttered, his voice bitter and raw, cracking slightly on the last word. "Why does everyone have to treat me like garbage just because I have an FFF rank talent? They're just going to treat me like I'm nothing. I swear, I swear one day I'll get stronger."
Caleb tried not to laugh as he recited the words silently, word for word, alongside Michael's mumbling. The dialogue was even more ridiculous hearing it spoken aloud than it had been on the page. He really tried to keep from bursting out laughing, but it was difficult. His chest tightened with the effort of suppression. Emily was watching, her attention divided between the water dispenser and the strange boy muttering to himself. Caleb just poured himself some water and nearly spit it out. He was laughing too hard internally, to the point where a slight chuckle escaped and tears began rolling down his face.
"I swear, when I gain my power—" Michael continued his monologue, completely oblivious to his audience. Caleb spoke the words in his head simultaneously, perfectly synchronized. "—I'm going to kill everyone who called me trash."
Tears kept falling down Caleb's face, and he had to bite his lip to keep from laughing aloud. The metallic taste of blood touched his tongue as he bit down harder than intended.
"Why are you crying?" Emily asked, walking over with concern etched on her features. Her hand reached out tentatively, hovering near his shoulder. "Is something wrong?"
Caleb wiped the tears away quickly, his fingers coming away wet. "No, it's nothing. I'm just—" He tried to suppress another wave of laughter as Michael continued his dramatic monologue in the background. "—I'm just tired." The excuse sounded weak even to his own ears.
He knew that wasn't a good excuse, but what could he say? That he was internally laughing at the edgy protagonist? That he found Michael's suffering hilarious because he knew it was all manufactured drama? That would make him look bad, callous and cruel. And he didn't want that, didn't want Emily to see him as just another bully.
"Oh man, this is hilarious," Caleb whispered to himself as both he and Emily got their water and walked back toward the dormitory. He could still hear Michael's voice echoing down the hallway, promising vengeance to empty air.
Billy was playing his game, headphones on, paying no attention to anyone or anything beyond his screen. The rapid clicking of buttons filled the room. When Emily and Caleb walked in, Billy took his headphones off and looked at them, his eyes adjusting to the real world.
"You two back?" he asked, stating the obvious.
"Yeah," Emily confirmed, setting her cup down carefully.
Caleb was still breathing hard from suppressed laughter, his chest heaving slightly. Water dripped from his mouth, spilling onto his shirt where he'd nearly spit it out from trying not to burst out laughing. He finished drinking his water, threw the cup in the trash with more force than necessary, and Emily did the same with considerably more grace.
"Anyway, do you guys know anywhere I can train my skills?" Caleb asked, composing himself and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Yeah, there's a training hall down the hall," Billy said, setting down his controller with a decisive click. "I can show you if you'd like." He seemed eager for the distraction, for a reason to stretch his legs.
"Sure. You just going to stay here, Emily, or you coming with us?" Billy asked, already standing and heading toward the door.
"I'll come," Emily decided after a moment's consideration. She glanced around the dormitory as if making sure she wasn't forgetting anything.
With the decision made, all three roommates walked out the door and down the hall. They took one left turn, then one right, their footsteps echoing in the corridor. Finally they arrived at the training hall with its multiple training dummies standing like silent sentinels. This area had been closed off before everyone had their Awakening—just a wall, a dead end that students had walked past without a second thought. But after everyone completed their Awakening ceremony, the wall had been taken down and the training hall revealed, as if it had been waiting there all along.
All three walked inside, and Caleb felt a surge of determination course through his veins. The air smelled of leather and sweat, of countless hours of practice. This was the beginning—the beginning of everything. The beginning of giving the readers what they deserved: a story that wasn't cliche, that didn't follow the tired old patterns. He would make sure this story became as unbalanced as possible, would tip the scales until the whole narrative structure collapsed. If the original story was gold, his version might as well be stardust compared to that—something more ethereal, more unpredictable, more alive.
"You know what? I'm tired of these tropes," Caleb said aloud, staring down the dummies that lined the area. His voice carried a new conviction, resonating in the open space. Both Emily and Billy turned to look at him with curiosity, their expressions questioning.
"It's time to throw the story off the rails," he continued, clenching his fists until his knuckles turned white. "It's time to make sure people don't know what to expect. It's time to finally beat the edgy protagonist and take his place." His words hung in the air like a declaration of war.
Of course, he didn't say that last part aloud—but the thought burned bright in his mind as he stepped forward to begin his training. Emily and Billy exchanged glances, clearly confused by his sudden intensity but willing to go along with it. Caleb selected a training dummy, running his fingers along its worn surface. This was where it started. This was where he would become strong enough to rewrite fate itself.