As soon as the words came out of Akash’s mouth, a floating blue box appeared in front of his eyes.

  “It really works,” he whispered as he examined the words that it said.

  What drew his attention the most was neither the presence of stats and levels, nor the lone skill he seemingly possessed.

  This can’t be, I’ve seen those words written in the imprint before!

  He was sure of it, but there was also a chance that it was just a coincidence.

  “There was a game like that back on Earth, and I’ve even played it a little,” he was full-on talking to himself, “I only remember the main character and his friends, but there was no mention of the Von Hoebert house nor the Azalya kingdom where we’re located.”

  Why couldn’t that system guy just send me to Arms of Armageddon, a game that I played? Akash lamented his bad luck.

  He decided that a trip to the closest library was due as soon as possible, before turning his attention to the stats displayed in front of him.

  The absence of a class wasn’t likely a bad thing, yet. He was young, and Legilus didn’t make any fuss about him being a complete failure, so there was still hope.

  I’m sure the final test of aptitude has a lot to do with acquiring whatever class I’m meant for, he thought.

  Then, it was the stats. He had nothing to compare them to, so he couldn’t be sure how he fared against his peers. Again, it must’ve been neither impressive nor worrisome, otherwise his father and brother would’ve mentioned it at least in passing.

  His only skill, Airball, intrigued him the most, but was also his greatest source of concern. The previous conversation that he had with the Baron gave him the idea that his magical abilities weren’t up to par, hence needing training from Zarag, his older brother.

  “Airball,” he whispered as he extended his hand forward, but nothing happened.

  The experiment failed, so he tried to scan his mind in case Akash’s memories contained any tips on how to use magic.

  Sure enough, there were glimpses of the previous Akash using the Airball skill, but they were sparse. Whenever those memories resurfaced, he could feel tension in his stomach.

  As if the other guy hated that skill.

  “I guess some people can’t cope with the reality of their shortcomings,” Akash shook his head with a smile, “And the responsibility to do something with the cards he was dealt falls on my shoulders.”

  He tried again and again, but to no avail. From what he’s seen of Akash’s memories using that skill, he was doing everything right.

  Pointing his arm forward, chanting the name of the skill, then throwing the newly formed Airball in whatever direction he wanted.

  Something was missing, but he couldn’t find out through memories alone.

  “Alright,” he sighed, then proclaimed in a loud voice, to no one in particular, “Look, system. You’ve sent me down this shithole of a world, in the body of a former scumbag, and you expect me to keep going without any pointers? At least answer my questions.”

  Akash was met with radio silence.

  At this point, he’d been pushing himself hard already. He had a mountain of trouble back on Earth, and an even bigger one in this current world. Not to mention his regret for never paying enough attention to the Age of Dandelions video game; it would’ve helped a lot if he had more than surface-level knowledge.

  At least I know who some of the main characters are, maybe I can steal some of their opportunities for my survival, He thought. Then again, I don’t even know where to find them.

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  He held his face in his hands, overwhelmed.

  At this point, what he lacked the most was knowledge, and what he feared the most was being exposed as an impostor of the real Akash. The latter issue could be easily covered up, as the previous guy was, according to the memories he inherited, a wastrel who had nothing going on in his life except drinking beer and soliciting young women.

  The problem lies in information acquisition…

  After pushing the memories he got after the system transfer, he ended up with a vague idea of how the Von Hoebert manor was structured. There was a library, but he wasn’t sure whether it had good books, the conditions for entering it, or even its size.

  He didn’t have much choice, but as the son of the Baron, although an illegitimate one, it was likely that he wouldn’t face much difficulty in entering it.

  With the plan set, he jumped out of the bed and slapped his cheeks slightly. He needed all the motivation he could muster, as the task was nothing like he’d ever done before.

  As he left his luxurious room, he remembered his previous one. The difference in lifestyle was astronomical, but he always assumed that he’d be the happiest man in the world if he became rich one day.

  Huh, now that I’m technically rich, I have bigger problems than I ever did.

  He closed the door behind him, and with quick steps, he traced his way through the manor. It was vast, with hallways nearly indistinguishable from one another.

  Now and then, he’d come across a maid or two walking through the aisle.

  Some of them never paid him any attention, but the majority sped up their pace and avoided him like the plague. Whenever he looked them in the eye, they visibly squirmed.

  Still, some of those who avoided him were blushing at the same time, as if they were embarrassed rather than disgusted.

  I hope he didn’t fuck all of these girls, but who I’m kidding, of course a pompous noble brat would screw everything in his path.

  When he tried to focus on some of their faces, he could remember the previous Akash trying to grab their attention, however possible, and taking them to his room whenever he persuaded them to tag along.

  They never resisted his advances for the most part. They were commoners, and he was the son of a baron. No matter how twisted a person he was, they saw whatever personal relationship they had with him as a possibility of changing their lives.

  He kept walking, thinking of how difficult it’d be to masquerade as Akash convincingly.

  Honestly, it’s not that bad. I’ll just pretend to be incompetent for a while and flirt with lovely maids. He smiled, I can’t say I hate it, though.

  Before he even knew it, he was in front of a door unlike all the others he’d seen on his way here. It was made out of dark brown wooden planks, and the rust on the nails keeping the structure together spoke of its age.

  Library. The plate hanging on it said in the weird local language that he could understand for some reason, and without further ado, he opened the door.

  A loud squeaking voice came out of the joints, and he grimaced as he forced it open.

  Stepping inside, he looked around, but no one was at the entrance. Two meters from the entrance stood a long desk, which he assumed was the receptionist’s, though no one was there.

  No matter how he tried to dig through his memories, he knew nothing about the library. The previous Akash wasn’t the type of guy to go to a library, as he thought he was better than that.

  As time goes by, I’m feeling less and less sorry for the previous ‘me’, Akash thought, he was a total scumbag, and with his lack of competence and his background as the bastard son of a street whore, he has no saving grace.

  At this point, he viewed himself neither as David, nor as Akash. He was the amalgamation of the two, and he could no longer unknow those memories he was given.

  Then, his thoughts stopped. He was already in front of some bookshelves. There were many of them, but no more than twenty.

  Thankfully, they were organized by genre, and he was interested in History to gain a better grasp over the situation. He even hoped to find something that relates to the limited knowledge he had about the Age of Dandelions game, to see if he was in that video game’s world.

  He was also interested in Magic Theory, to learn the correct method of casting spells. His inability to use his only skill, Airball, was a hurdle he needed to overcome as soon as possible.

  Walking around the tight aisles between the bookshelves, he arrived at one that held the books for History.

  He skimmed through the titles he could read on the book spines until one caught his attention.

  “A Brief History of Rievlend,” he said under his breath, “If I remember correctly, that’s the name of this world, and from the simplicity of its title, I bet it fits my needs.”

  He took it, then went ahead and picked a random book about the basic theory of simple magic.

  There were many empty tables around in a straight line, so he went ahead and picked one of them to serve as his desk for the day.

  He looked left and right, and sure enough, people were sitting around. None of them had the signature hair color and features shared by his father and brother, so they didn’t stand out as much.

  Some of the girls still had maid outfits on, but many of them were in regular robes and dresses of different colors that appeared to be made out of a thin textile.

  They appeared to be engrossed in their reading, and he didn’t recognize any of them, so he looked around once more.

  The men were sparse, only two of them. One was an old man wearing a suit like Earth’ tuxedos, and the other was a young boy whose stature was barely big enough to be able to lay his eyes on the books even while sitting on a chair.

  That’s the head butler, and that’s his grandson, Akash’s memories flashed up, identifying the two of them.

  He couldn’t see what they were reading, but by the looks of it, they enjoyed themselves.

  With a smile at the possibility of understanding his current situation a bit more, Akash opened the history book and skimmed until he found parts that caught his interest.

  And he found something of value quickly enough.

  The current kingdom where he was located, Azalya, shared borders with three other countries. One of them was the Imperial Alliance, four times the size of Azalya.

  It was an impressive political body that emerged because of a great war’s bloodshed. The generals of three countries agreed to put their differences aside after the elimination of their royal families and decided to follow the only remaining king out of the four of them.

  What he was looking at was the family tree of the surviving royal family. Each member had a picture next to his name, or an artistic depiction if there were no images available.

  “I can’t believe what I’m seeing,” he opened his eyes widely, “It’s that game from the game, as if he were a real person instead of a computerized drawing!”

  Alexy Der Loweherz, the protagonist of the Age of Dandelions game. Medium length scarlet red hair in a messy hairstyle that covered half of his forehead. Thick eyebrows, and below them were a pair of sharp eyes in a similar color to his hair. His features had a unique sharpness to them, and his smile revealed a part of one of his canines.

  I’ve heard he was a nice guy, maybe I can pretend to be a fortune teller, warn him about the big bad boss of the game, and leech off of him? Akash thought earnestly.

  However, unbeknownst to the dark blue-haired bastard of the noble family, someone was standing over his shoulder for the past minute.

  It was an old lady with long, braided white hair that extended past her shoulder blades. She had a dark green robe on that concealed the majority of her figure, except for her hands. A pointed hat, matching the color of her dress, covered the top of her head.

  “Look, look, look,” the old lady clicked her tongue on top of his shoulder, “What do we have here?”