《Meanest Mob》41. Author’s POV?

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Lethargic and without any light in my eyes, I woke up regretfully as another day greets me with its blinding radiance.

Mom used to open the curtains for me. Yeah, for me... When I know, it's just her way of screwing me.

That was ungrateful of me, but this is what a mom's love is like. It's either I take it or I take it... You really don't have a choice.

As usual, it's 10:00 in the morning already and the hustle and bustle of the real world are already this noisy.

I plugged my ears with music as I eat my breakfast chips. It's very unhealthy, but who cares if it's death that I seek? Big brother can take care of my parents as it is...

He has a good job, a pretty girlfriend, and a life. I am not saying I want to die because I don't have that kind of stuff. I simply live my life the way I see fit. Call me dreck of society, trash, or whatnot— a hopeless weeb that can't accept reality.

But color me impress... I love the way I live!

That's why I am even doing it in the first place. I cracked my neck as I consume my daily dose of entertainment. You name it— manga, novels, and games... I am a hopeless degenerate, and I will remain that way for days to come.

"It's time I should add a chapter to this baby of mine... Let's see what I can do... Chapter 42, what should I write?"

As a 17-year-old, it has always been my fantasy to transmigrate to a magical world filled with novelty... But I just can't... Nah, even if I have a choice, I won't. I guess this is why it remains a fantasy. If I am crazy enough, I could turn it into a goal actually...

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Come on! This world has everything I need! The other world doesn't have internet, good food, and 2d waifus... Seeking danger is nothing but a foolish attempt of the hopeless, I am not that hopeless... Yes, I might be a disobedient son, but 'reality' is what I prefer it to be… I won’t let others’ versions of realities interfere with mine.

I am working on this current project of mine, focusing my entire being on it. I even halted my many side projects and have slept a lot less just to give my time to this— Meanest Mob! It's about a guy reaching his 30s who mysteriously transmigrated into his novel... Not so complicated, right? I can make it complicated, but I am still on the fence as to how to create the proper mystery...

"Monster! RUn FoR YoUR lives!"

Huh? Where's that scream coming from? That sounds like mom... Monster? She must be exaggerating, right?

"Call DA SECurity!"

Is it dad? He's just behind my door. What's the need to shout for? We live in a subdivision, so if you want to find security, just wave by the window... Why bother this useless son?

Ye lovely parents of mine are disturbing my thought process, I can't concentrate...

I opened the door irritated by my parents' attempts to convince me of going out, and what greeted me... is me—

My already gloomy complexion has gotten darker. It's as if my life is being drained by the bloody sight in front of me. There was an uncanny sense of familiarity, then there is fear.

What the hell is happening?

A face that shares my own, a familiar mole under his right eye with that pale and thin complexion. It is unmistakably me.

It smiled, flashing his monstrous set of teeth resembling a wolf's. The smell of blood invaded my nose. Just by the door is the pool of blood, and the person lying on top of it is my father in his disfigured form.

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"HEEEEeeeelp!"

It was a pathetic cry, but this is the only thing I can do. Fear is overtaking my sense of reason.

I screamed only for the monster to grab me by my throat.

I... I remember...

***

I woke up. This time, it's the real world. This is definitely the real world. I can feel the wind streaking against my cheeks, it's painfully cold as the night is both chilly...and deadly.

No one will notice a falling youth from this height, especially with the interference of the night. I tried to scream, but I can't... The egos are interfering with the control of my body.

‘Old maaan, where are you!? What’s the meaning of this?’ I screamed in my mind and called to the voices in my head, but I got nothing.

The egos.

They are... hostiles.

It's pretty obvious now. Someone tampered with my memories. No, it's not just my memories, but also the flow of my reasoning. The fact this transmigration didn't bother me a bit is concerning. And more so, that— I ignored the presence of the voices in my head.

Why would I ignore them? Negotiate with them?

Me, going into this academy is planned, guided not by my own will but by another.

And this another has come to decide to dispose of me. The trigger word 'in the box' caused me to suffer from whatever collar is restricting me. As my negative emotions continue to snowball, this collar finally broke.

I am done with playing the third perspective.

There is only me now— I am the first perspective!

Only my own strength can save me now. There is no way to drastically increase potential-grade, but there is a way for me to become stronger— the path of an anomaly, the outlier power sourced from human inspiration and ingenuity.

Hidden deep within my memories are stocks of knowledge unreachable to my current amnesiac state. I have to find a way to them.

They say the speed of thought is equivalent to the speed of light given that the delivery of neural codes in the brain is sent through bioelectrical signals. I only have 8 seconds more to go until I become a meat paste.

8 seconds, do or die...

I delved deep back into my mind. Back into the nightmare that awoke my sense of reason.

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