Remillia's Dorm
Sitting cross-legged on my bed, I stared at the flickering holographic interface in front of . The numbers on the progress bar filled my anticipation with a rhythm of their own.
33%...
50%...
87%...
100% complete!
The screen glowed brighter as the system initialized, an array of digital text appearing before . This status window was a reflection of my abilities—or my lack thereof.
—————— Status Window ——————
Na: Remillia Lockhart
Class: ??
Weapon: Dagger
Gift: Keen Sense
I frowned at the question marks. Class? What did it all an? A dagger was my weapon of choice, certainly, but it felt insufficient in a world that prized strength and overwhelming power.
I scrolled down, my heart sinking with every number I encountered.
Physical Attributes
Strength: 1
Stamina: 1
Speed: 1
Precision: 1
Vitality: 1
These numbers felt like a punch to the gut. Was I really so weak? So... basic? A creeping sense of inadequacy washed over as I examined each category, the low numbers glaring back at like a judgnt from the universe.
ntal Attributes
Intelligence: 1 / 10
Perseverance: 1 / 10
Luck: 1 / 10
Charm: 1 / 10
I took a deep breath, the anxiety mounting. 1's across the board. It was humiliating.
Popularity Points: 5,000
XP Points: 10
Popularity Points? The only glimr of sothing more significant in this grim status update. They felt like a cruel joke in comparison to the rest. I could invest them into my physical attributes, but even then, would it be enough to truly change my fate?
[XP Points can only be used in ntal Attributes]
[XP Points must be allocated imdiately within 5 days; failure to do so will cause earned points to disappear]
A reminder rang in my mind. I had to be strategic with these XP Points. They wouldn't last forever.
[Reminder: ntal Attributes can't be maxed out. It can only reach up to 9]
"What a limiting system," I muttered under my breath, frustration bubbling within . How was I supposed to compete or even survive in this world with these ager beginnings?
I stared at the holographic screen. A holographic screen in which I am the only one who can see including Macaron.
'10,000 PP for one XP Point?' I couldn't help but scoff. 'What a blatant rip-off.'
And then, there was the absurdity of the maximum cap showing over 10 despite the system clearly stating it couldn't be maxed out. My thoughts were abruptly interrupted as I glanced down at Macaron, who was watching with his beady eyes.
"Hey, Macaron. Why are all my statistics only 1? Is there an error in this system? Or is this all Remillia's points?" I asked, my frustration bubbling to the surface.
"That's because you're not her. Don't worry Master! You were given 10 XP points for compensation of being here," he chirped enthusiastically.
"Huh? Wait, what do you an I'm not ?" I asked while staring at him suspiciously.
"Master... That's because you transmigrated into another body, therefore resetting all the previous owner's points," Macaron explained, fluffing his feathers a little as if to muster confidence.
I blinked at that revelation. It gradually started to make sense. 'So that's why the status window just showed up.'
But then a thought nagged at . I turned to look at Macaron, my curiosity only heightened. "How did you know that I entered a transmigration phase, hmm?"
"Uhmm, that's because—"
"Because what?" I pressed, narrowing my eyes at him.
Macaron let out a small sigh, his feathers ruffling nervously. "Sorry, Master. I don't really know the answer to that."
My confusion morphed into mild annoyance as I knit my eyebrows together. "Do you want to turn you into a roasted owl instead?"
Macaron shivered, his wings wrapping around his body defensively. His eyes shot wide and pitiful, almost like he was trying to channel so sort of puppy eyes. "I promise you I don't know a thing. I'm just here as your cutey little dium."
"Also, this is my first ti having a dium that is an animal and not an object," I sighed in defeat.
"Like I said, you don't belong in this world. You're special! So instead of having a boring dium, you have instead."
"Don't act cute. You look stupid," I retorted, unable to stifle a grin at his ridiculousness.
Hurt, Macaron pouted, bringing a wing over to shield his face like a sulking child.
"Macaron..."
"Yes, Master?"
"Don't pout. You look like a duck."
He finally surrendered with an exaggerated roll of his eyes, muttering under his breath while shooting the occasional side-eye. I shrugged it off, diving back into my thoughts.
Looking at the status window again, the glaring question mark next to 'class' caught my attention. It was as if it was beckoning to make a choice.
"Why does my class have a question mark?"
"That's up to you to change it. You can enhance your abilities and skills or choose another weapon that is suitable for you. Since the old Remillia was experienced with a bow, her class typically fell into the Archer category," Macaron explained.
"What? So I need to be evaluated first before I fall into any category?" I asked, incredulous.
"Yep!" Macaron confird, puffing up with pride.
"Then how would I know if I have any skill or ability?" I asked, my brow furrowing.
"Lucky for you, since you're not from this world, the creator granted you five abilities of your own as a starting point!" Macaron said excitedly.
"So I'll just write any ability that I want to have?" I asked, feeling my heart race.
"You write your chosen abilities, but if it's an unreasonable ability, the system will edit it out, and you can confirm or reject what you want," Macaron clarified.
This was it—a blank slate for to craft sothing spectacular. I sat up straighter, my mind racing with possibilities. Sothing that would complent my dagger skills.
————————————————————
Abilities:
∆Master Knifeman: All kinds of daggers and knife have already been mastered
∆Predator's Instinct: Gives heightened awareness of my surroundings, allowing to anticipate and dodge attacks before they happen.
∆Dagger Retrieval: After throwing a dagger and hitting a target, it will imdiately return to my sheath or hand as long as I envision it coming back.
∆Serenade of Daggers: Enhances all of my senses, causing each dagger thrown to multiply by ten for five minutes. After that, the daggers will return to their original quantity.
————————————————————
I paused after typing the last entry, taking a mont to savor the rush of ideas flowing from my mind to the screen.
'Mmm... This is good for now. I can just add the other one later.'
Taking a deep breath, I hit the "Confirm" button, my heart racing as the screen processed my entries. The swirling energy of the status window pulsated around , and I felt the anticipation building thick in the air.
Suddenly, a series of notifications flashed on the screen:
——— Processing Abilities ———
Evaluating feasibility...
Cross-referencing with current attributes...
Confirming against system regulations...
I was nervous thinking that one of the abilities I wrote would fail.
Finally, the screen settled, and a new window appeared:
——— Ability Integration Complete! ———
All selected abilities have been deed feasible and successfully integrated into your status!
With my abilities securely integrated into my status, I shifted my focus to the next phase of my transformation: upgrading my stats. The thought of enhancing my stamina and vitality was paramount in my mind; as a close-range fighter wielding daggers, I'd need the endurance to keep going and the resilience to withstand counterattacks.
"Alright, I have 10 points to distribute," I muttered to myself, scrolling through the list of stats displayed on the holographic screen.
I ntally counted the benefits of each stat. Strength would boost my attack power, agility would enhance my speed and evasiveness, and stamina would directly affect how long I could fight without tiring. Vitality would increase my health, allowing to take more hits.
But then, an unusual stat caught my eye: Luck.
"Luck? What does luck do exactly?" I wondered aloud, intrigued. I had never considered it an important attribute in my past life, but maybe in this world, it held a different aning. It could affect loot drops, critical hit chances, or even outcos of certain encounters. Could a higher luck stat make things easier for ?
The thrill of power surged through as I finished my maniacal laugh, a delightful madness I hadn't felt in ages.
Then I noticed Macaron had nearly turned into a dot on the corner of the room. He was scooting away, looking like a feathered creature attempting to escape the madness of its master.
"Why are you there?" I called out, wiping tears of laughter from my eyes, half-amused by my own antics.
"Ah? ? Don't worry about , Master. I just want to stretch my legs, that's all," he chirped defensively, glancing back with wide eyes that twinkled with mischief and a touch of concern.
"Crazy bird," I muttered under my breath, shaking my head as I refocused on the stat window floating before . I was filled with a bubbling excitent. With 10 points to allocate, I felt an irresistible pull to invest everything into my newfound ntal attribute: Luck.
'How co I'm the one who's crazy when you were the one acting crazy a while ago,' Macaron thought.
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