I had a long dream. I don't recall much about it, but I can recall some parts.

It was when I was eight years old. My childhood, the past life that I almost forgot.

I wasn't originally 27 years old like what my tampered memories suggest. I was originally 17 years old. There is only a difference of one year if compared to this 16-year-old body of 12193.

The tampering with my memories is excessively brutal. This is why I can't forgive whoever did this to me. An extra 10 years were forcibly implanted in my past life’s memories. Now, I am starting to doubt whether that past life is even real.

What even came first? The novel? Or this world? Which is based from A to B?

This is a conundrum. However.

The novel is real, that’s at least what I want to believe. Now, in my head, there are two existing parallels— my memories as a 17-year-old teen, and the memories of the 27-year-old writer. I don’t know who I am among the two.

What I can deduce is that the titles of the novels the two decided on are quite different. 17-year-old me decided on ‘Meanest Mob’, while 30-year-old-me decided on ‘Mutagenic Medieval’.

The former, Meanest Mob, has no proper ending and can be considered a eunuch novel. Meanwhile, the latter, Mutagenic Medieval, has a full story, with side stories and even a nice-sounding-epilogue. I remember the plot and the story of both works. And there are... differences.

…

When I woke up, I am already in the infirmary, bandages covering me from head to toe. I have been in a coma state for a week. I need to stay for a month more to fully recover.

Looks like I can maintain this mob life as I slowly fade and blend with the background once more. I just have to be more careful.

The trick is to avoid everyone's eyesight. Give it a month, and they'll forget me. After my recovery, when I attend class, I will try my best to be as inconspicuous as possible.

My [Mind Over Body] also have conceptual traits, albeit slight. So going invisible is not impossible. An individual's mutation will be able to interfere with concepts once they reach the Magical-grade. Lorie's luck powers are an exception, a rare case of diversion. Her powers are like the 'King of Concepts'.

Sigh... I stopped my self-reflection given the entrance of a visitor.

Celine, the academy doctor was surprised by my recovery. She said that a week is too fast for my fatally injured body.

"You didn't use your Special Ability did you?"

"I am unconscious ma'am, how can I do that?"

Special Abilities are like organs, they are both voluntary and involuntary. We don't have a way of knowing if my mutation was triggered by my injuries.

"Let's extend your rest for a week so that we don't have any problems in the future."

Sure, I am all-go for it...

Wait, how about my grades?

Celine saw her patient's bulging eyes. It looked comical, but she stifled her laugh.

I saw it! You laughed!

But.

"This is no joke, doc. How about my grades?"

"You will be fine, there is still next year to try."

No, there is no next year for me! I have to stay with the main cast. I need a close watch on them, since there are irreversible threats, that even I, the author of Mutagenic Medieval don't know.

"Doc, I can like..."

"You can't negotiate with me. There are far more concerning things you ought to answer, good luck with that."

Huh? After Celine took some of her stuff to the infirmary, she left. I can hear the loud slam of the door.

Then a gentle slide... then footsteps... there were two of them. A visitor perhaps?

"I am Merrick Wander, Head Professor. I have questions," The Master Magician introduced himself and his purpose in a brief and convincing manner. He continued "The person by my side is Jimmy Simmons, he won't participate in the interrogation. He is just an observer... Like a dropout who came back for a reassessment, since he is too much of a good for nothing."

"Isn't that too much? I am a professional journalist!"

"And I am a Head Professor."

"I wrote many articles, many rely on the—"

"I am a Head Professor."

"I am a renowned writer of—"

"I am a Head Professor."

Their comedic skit is not cheering me up at all. Invisible sweat gathered on my forehead. Jimmy Simmons, that's a living lie detector. Though not as accurate as Zia’s, he’s as much a threat to me.

Merrick's gaze has tangible weight, given his history of killing. "What happened to you? Don't you know the rooftops are off-limits?"

"Ummm... No? I didn't read the guidelines, hehehe...” which is the truth. “As to what happened to me... Sigh... This is embarrassing... I slipped." I playfully knocked my forehead like an idiot would when a person is lying, this is my most convincing act. I hope this works.

"Is that all?" Merrick glanced at his companion asking if there is something wrong with my statement. My observation abilities can see this clearly as day. They are in doubt, and Jimmy frowning that intensely isn't adding to my confidence.

"Are you using your ability?" Jimmy asked.

"Huh?"

"Your Special Ability. The principal told me that you can think simultaneously, allowing yourself a cloak from psychic mental-probings. Every lie detection is known to be psychic in nature, but not mine."

Jimmy is coming off clean with his lie detection abilities. I have a clue as to why. He can't read me, or he can only read a small glimpse of me. The reason why I am acting like an idiot while speaking relatively truthful words is to test the extent of Jimmy's powers.

"No, I am not using it." Again, I spoke the truth.

"You are unconsciously interfering with my Special Ability. I am certain it's not your intention, but it is coming off too naturally from you, like an instinct, so I had to inquire."

That makes sense. He won't come clean with his lie detection if that's the case. Psychic lie detection abilities rely on logic and constructive discernment, but Jimmy's power works differently. He weighs the sincerity of the soul.

My recent experience in the mysterious mental world allowed me to see my soul from a different perspective. This allowed me the feat of even fooling Jimmy's eyes, that is by evading the question while acting in an unconvincing manner.

I can't tell them I went crazy, fought my internal turmoil, and whatnot.

"There's no problem at all. He is clean." Jimmy said to Merrick subtly suggesting that it is time for them to leave,

"Last question, why did you go to the rooftop?" but Merrick's gaze is not leaving me alone. He crouched leveling his eyes to mine. I can feel his killing intent, this confirms that my Special Ability possesses conceptual traits. Feeling his killing intent is proof enough.

"I... I got depressed from becoming the champion, I guess..."

"Wait, you are the champion?" That was not the reaction I was expecting.

"..."

Even Jimmy is speechless.

***