Misfit of the first year

Noah's POV:

I was on my way to the academy library, mostly to look into matters regarding the history of this world.

Grandpa used to say, "By gazing into the distant stars, we light the path for the coming future."

If I need to understand my situation regarding transmigration, the most likely clue I could get is this world's history. History, after all, would likely contain records of paradoxical events, such as the mass teleportation of the city RavenSoli, which happened just before the great technological leap, four hundred years ago.

But all the codices are kept in archives rather than the library, so I might have to look into the archives as well.

The library was situated somewhere between section B and section C, almost fourty kilometers away from A3 hostel, which made it illogical to walk there.

Begrudgingly, I took the decision to book an electric cab, though it did put a hefty dent of fourty credits in my purse.

***

I arrived at the academy rotunda—a shrine dedicated to Sebastian Rosethorne the First, also known as Saint Sebastian.

Entering the sunken courtyard beside it, I descended the stairs leading to the academy library, which was located underground.

Opening the library gates, I was greeted by a wooden tower crowned with a circular base that served as the counter. Atop it was a sizeable armillary sphere—once a state-of-the-art tool, now just a decorative antique.

With a leisurely gait, I began to explore the aisles of books.

"Erm...Nano, can you scan books? You know...those X-ray scans of many things like they do in superhero comics?" I asked, hoping for an easier method to find the data I needed.

[I am capable of scanning books with an X-ray method, similar to superhero comics. However, the data retrieved would be jumbled as the pages would be stacked together, causing the text to appear either mirrored or straight-]

"Okay okay, I get it," I interrupted Nano, feeling a pang of disappointment.

It seemed I would have to turn the pages manually for a proper scan.

Trying to recall a particular piece of information from the novel, I made my way to the librarian's desk.

"Afternoon!" I greeted with a strained smile as I ascended the elevated platform.

"Good afternoon! Hello! How can I help you today?" The librarian replied warmly.

"I'm searching for books on data analysis, historical chronicles, glossaries, decipherment guides, and... magical formulas," I explained, my gaze scanning the shelves.

*It smells like agarbatti,* I thought, noticing the lit oil diffuser on the counter. Two others were busy working behind it.

"Certainly, I can help with that. Do you have any specific titles in mind?" The librarian said.

"Titles? Hmm... Lemme think. I'm looking for books like 'The Alchemist's Handbook,' 'Arcane Codex,' 'The Compendium,' and anything else you can recommend," I requested, my thoughts jumping from one subject to another.

"I can certainly assist you with that," she replied, her fingers already tapping away at the keyboard.

"We have several books on those topics. Please follow me!"

The librarian guided me through the labyrinth of the library's aisles, past countless bookshelves.

The soft rustling of pages and the occasional hushed footsteps of other patrons were the only sounds around me.

Eventually, I was led to a section dedicated to ancient linguistic models and historical records.

The shelves were lined with everything from basic introductory texts to advanced academic volumes, offering a comprehensive range of materials on the subject.

Subtly, my attention was drawn to an almost empty ledge on a particular shelf.

It held just one book.

Curious, I picked it up—an old, black leather-bound tome, its surface weathered and rough to the touch. The title, inscribed in archaic script, was barely legible.

"'A How-to Guide for the End of the World?'" I read softly, my fingers tracing the faded title on the cover.

'What a strange title,' I mused, flipping open the first page.

"A book by Kael..." I read. Just then, thunder rumbled in the distance, and the library lights flickered wildly before steadying once more.

No last name, huh...

Soon, the librarian interrupted my thoughts as she handed me a weighty tome. "Here you go," she said with a friendly smile. "This should have everything you need. And please don't mind the lights; we get power surges during storms because the place isn't properly earthed."

"It's alright. Thanks a lot," I replied, returning her smile

***

.

.

.

It was one of the cafe shops.

A group of students huddled together in the cafe, Myung Joon cracked a joke that received no laughs, except for a boy who bootlicked him. Power is pervasive and in a hierarchical system like arcanum, where credit replaces den, power dynamics often encourages the weak to engage in such behaviours.

The allure of powerful connections was undeniable, and many students were more than willing to trade their dignity for the prospect of a brighter future.

Karthik, however, remained detached. His focus was fixed on his phone, the screen's glow lit his face. After a few moments of intense concentration, he let out an exasperated groan. "I lost again!"

Myung Joon, curious, leaned in to peer at the screen. "Isn't that the new game? What's it called again? Chuss? Chase?"

Karthik's response was tinged with condescension. "It's chess. The game is called chess."

"Ah... chess," Myung Joon repeated, struggling to commit the term to memory.

Chess was an innovative strategy game that challenged players to outthink their opponents on a battlefield of 64 squares.

In a market crowded with complex and flashy games, chess stood out for its minimalist design. In an industry often criticized for pay-to-win mechanics and reliance on RNG, chess's emphasis on strategic thinking and planning attracted many players and soon this newly released game became popular among teens.

Both Myung Joon and Karthik belonged to class A2 of 1st year. And they were both the best students of class A2.

With their ranks of superiority, it was clear that this was an assemblage of the first year's elites.

But why would first year elite assemble like this?

"Alright, enough of that," Ellie cut in, her tone carried a sharp edge. Just then, Freya made her entrance.

Ellie tapped her watch with a touch of annoyance. "Well, look who finally decided to show up."

Freya slipped through the revolving door, rolling her eyes. She walked over to the occupied booth, letting her bag slide off her shoulder and slumped into a seat. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Training dragged on today—thanks to an absolute idiot causing a scene."

Ellie's eyebrow arched, curiosity piqued. "An idiot, you say?"

Myung Joon, who'd been quietly nursing his coffee, leaned in, catching the drift. "Let me guess—'the misfit' of first year?"

The name Noah Grey, now infamous as the 'Misfit of the 1st Year,' had already become a byword for trouble, spreading through the academy like wildfire.

Freya's face twisted in irritation as she settled in across from Ellie. "Noah, that waste of space, yeah. Just my luck he's been dumped in my class."

"More like bad luck," Ellie shot back, a smirk playing on her lips as she took a sip of her drink.

Thomas, ever the instigator, couldn't resist diving in. "So, about that bathroom incident—any truth to it, or just idle gossip?" He leaned back, arms folded, a grin spreading at the thought of fresh scandal. He and Ellie, both from Class A2, , lived for this sort of drama.

Karthik sent him a look, eyebrows raised as if to say, Come on, mate, before turning back to his coffee. "Pass the sugar, would you?" he muttered, choosing not to engage with the pettiness.

Freya scoffed, giving Thomas a sidelong glance, but she clearly decided the question wasn't worth the breath.

Sensing the shift in the air, Myung Joon cleared his throat, smoothly redirecting the conversation. "Anyway, let's not get bogged down in that. We've got bigger fish to fry."

He leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice. "The Dungeon Trials."

"Got any ideas?" Karthik asked, the group instinctively drew closer, sensing the discussion was about to turn serious.

Myung Joon placed his espresso cup down with care. "I've got a few," he said, though a flicker of doubt crossed his face. "But whether we can actually pull it off… I'm not so sure."

Ellie, never one to back down, frowned. "Why the hesitation? What have we got to worry about? A3, A4, and A5 are hardly a threat." She leaned back, arms crossed, exuding a casual confidence.

Karthik gave her a measured look. "Sure, but what about class A1?"

Ellie's confidence faltered, the bravado slipping as silence fell over the group.

Karthik leaned in slightly, his eyes narrowing with intent. "You know who I mean."

Ellie bit her lip, suddenly unsure.

"Aeravat Indrath, yeah?" Myung Joon said, his tone even but his gaze sharpening. "But he's not our only problem." He let the words hang in the air for a moment. "We've also got Takahasi, Aurora, and Emily to contend with."

Karthik smirked, his determination returning. "I reckon I can handle Aurora and Emily. But Takahasi…" His voice trailed off, doubt creeping in. "That one's a bit trickier."

Myung Joon leaned back, offering a reassuring nod. "Leave Takahasi to me. He won't be an issue."

Freya, who had been quietly listening to the conversation, suddenly put the pieces together. Her eyes widened slightly as the plan took shape in her mind.

"And that leaves Aeravat," she said slowly, a note of realization in her voice. "So, what—you want me to be the spy then?"

A hush fell over the table.