Ch 1: A curse

Well, that's crap.

The dim glow of the computer screen illuminated Min Hoo's cluttered apartment, casting soft shadows across the walls filled with quickly folded laundry and stacks of ungraded papers. It was a typical late-night setting for him - chaotic yet strangely filled with comfort. The sound of clacking keys resonated in the stillness, mixing with the occasional rustle of his crumpled snack wrappers littering the desk.

Seated at his computer, Min Hoo leaned closer to the screen, his dark eyes scanning the latest chapter of "The Last Hero". Despite the chaotic blend of clichés and absurd twists, he was captivated, albeit begrudgingly.

"What kind of ridiculous plot is this?" he muttered, rolling his eyes at a particularly outrageous scene where the protagonist, Xue Yang, accidentally discovered his demonic heritage in the middle of a school competition. The thought of it made him snicker, though a part of him found himself inexplicably drawn to the absurdity.

In a fit of sarcasm, he typed, "This is the dumbest thing I've ever reread," pausing only for a moment to take a sip of cold coffee, grimacing at its bitterness. Yet, the allure of the story kept his fingers dancing on the keyboard as he moved on to the next chapter.

As minutes turned into hours, he barely noticed the time slipping by. His once bright white shirt had become rumpled, and his short black hair was tousled from running his hands through it in frustration and amusement alike. The clock on the wall ticked ominously as he glanced up, the numbers glowing a harsh 3:00 a.m. The realization crashed over him like a wave.

"Crap," he cursed under his breath, navigating through his cluttered mind. He needed to wake up early for his unforgiving job as a math professor—another day of strict routines and weary students awaited him.

Determined to wrap things up, he adjusted his glasses, which were beginning to slide down his nose with the weight of fatigue. Min Hoo took a deep breath, running a hand over his face in a failed attempt to shake off the weariness. He reluctantly clicked the power button on his monitor, the screen flickering to black, finally severing his connection to the colorful world of spell casters and demons.

With a heavy sigh, he stood up, stretching his stiff limbs, and made his way to his bedroom. Each step felt heavier than the last as sleep clawed at him, urging him to surrender. He flopped onto the bed, the comfort of the mattress enveloping him like a warm blanket. At that moment, Min Hoo felt a wave of relief wash over him, but he couldn't shake the remnants of the ridiculous story from his mind. With one final glance at the clock, he closed his eyes, letting exhaustion pull him under, drifting into the realm of dreams blended with nonsensical plots that would follow him into his sleep.

━•❖•━

The harsh beeping of the alarm clock sliced through the early morning silence, jarring Min Hoo from the depths of sleep. His eyes flew open, and panic surged through him as he fumbled to silence the blaring device. Glancing at the digital clock, he cursed under his breath – he was going to be late!

With an urgency that bordered on hysteria, Min Hoo rolled out of bed, his feet hitting the cool wooden floor. He could still feel the pleasant warmth of his bed drawing him back, but he dismissed the thought, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand. He stumbled toward the bathroom, flicking on the light, squinting as brightness flooded the small space.

He quickly grabbed his toothbrush and squeezed a generous amount of toothpaste onto it, barely pausing to admire the reflection of his slim build in the mirror. As he scrubbed away the remnants of sleep from his mouth, he splashed cold water onto his face with hurried motions, feeling the shock of the water jolting him further awake.

Time was against him – there was no room for lingering in front of the mirror today. He turned off the faucet, wiped his face with a towel, and made a break for his wardrobe. He tugged open the door to his closet, his heart racing as he rifled through the garments.

Settling on a crisp white shirt, he quickly pulled it over his head, struggling slightly with the buttons in his haste. Next came a fitted pair of black dress pants, which he yanked on with equal urgency, skipping any notions of sartorial elegance.

Feeling the fabric cling to his skin, Min Hoo glanced at the time again and felt a fresh wave of panic. There was no breakfast to be had today; he'd have to survive on sheer willpower and caffeine.

With everything still spinning from sleep, he grabbed at his glasses, sliding them onto his face as he stepped toward the door, making a mental note of the day's lessons and how he would avoid the students who disliked him. It was shaping up to be another day full of teaching, grading, and the burdens that came with being a strict professor of mathematics.

As he made his exit, the familiar feeling of dread settled in his stomach, but he brushed it aside, focusing instead on making it to the university without further delay.

Min Hoo burst out of the apartment building, the heavy door slamming shut behind him. The chill of the morning air greeted him, sending a shiver down his spine. He started down the narrow staircase, his footsteps echoing in the otherwise quiet hallway, urgency propelling him forward as he navigated the steps two at a time.

As he reached the ground floor, he pushed open the exit door and stepped outside into the bustling street. A gust of wind whipped around him, carrying with it the unmistakable scent of impending rain. He looked up just in time to see dark clouds gathering ominously overhead, their inky colors swirling like a painter's splotches on a canvas.

His heart sank as he patted down his pockets, quickly realizing the dreaded truth – in his hurry, he hadn't grabbed his umbrella.

"Great," he muttered under his breath, a frown etched across his pallid face. He grimaced at the thought of becoming drenched, but there was no time to linger on it. He needed to get to work.

With quick strides, he approached the edge of the sidewalk, his eyes fixed ahead as he mentally rehearsed the day's lectures. Thoughts of the equations he would teach consumed him, drowning out the environment around him.

Engrossed in his thoughts, Min Hoo didn't see the changing signals of the traffic lights. The world around him faded as he prepared to cross the street, his mind racing with calculations, until it was too late.

Suddenly, a deafening horn blared, pulling him from his reverie. He lifted his gaze just in time to see a car speeding straight toward him. Panic surged through his veins as his heart raced. He barely registered the red light and the screeching tires before the impact hit him – a bone-jarring moment of collision that sent him sprawling onto the asphalt.

Time seemed to slow. He felt the breath knocked out of him, pain blooming through his body as darkness edged at the corners of his vision. The sounds of the bustling street, the shouting of bystanders, faded into a distant murmur as he lay on the cold ground, the world around him spiraling into chaos.

━•❖•━

After a long time of darkness, Min Hoo abruptly opened his eyes, seeing a dark forest in front of him. His body seemed unusually light. Until one moment. The sharp pain in her arm made Min Hoo pay attention to his hand...More precisely, for the rest of the hand. Blood dripped to the ground from the sleeve, which was soaked through with blood.

Suddenly, Min hoo's body lunged forward, followed by a loud growl from behind him. The only thing he didn't understand right now..

Why doesn't he feel fear?

The pain in his arm became minor, obscured by a loud noise in his ears, making Min hoo feel dizzy. Unknowingly, Min Hoo let out a groan of pain and abruptly stopped. There was a large hole in his chest from which blood was oozing out in large quantities. Min Hoo's eyes rolled upward and soon everything was plunged into darkness again.

Min Hoo suddenly opened his eyes, a sharp, tingling pain piercing his chest. Instinctively, he clutched at his chest, but to his surprise, there was no wound, no hole. His breathing was rapid and uneven as he tried to calm himself.

Slowly, he took in his surroundings. He was lying on a soft, plush bed, a delicate canopy hanging overhead. Carefully, he sat up, feeling a strange lightness in his limbs. His fingers seemed unusually long and slender, the skin impossibly pale and smooth.

Overcome by curiosity, Min Hoo hurried to the nearest reflective surface. The face staring back at him was not his own. Long, white hair framed a handsome, attractive visage, with sly, golden eyes. This was not the face of Min Hoo, the prickly mathematics professor.

"What the hell is going on?" he murmured, running his fingers over the unfamiliar features. His heart raced as he tried to make sense of the situation. How had he ended up in this strange body, in this unfamiliar place?

The man's head began to spin a little and he heard a female robotic voice in his head. "Hello, host. I am System 031, your guide in this new life. You ended up in the body of the antagonist Mo Chou, the elder of the Hanqin school. Congratulations!"

Min Hoo's eyes widened in shock as he listened to the robotic voice. "What do you mean, 'new life'? And how did I end up in Mo Chou's body?"

The System didn't answer his questions directly. Instead, it said, "You know the novel 'The Last Hero' that you read so many times? Well, it seems like you've been transported into its world. Congratulations, you are now Mo Chou!"

Min Hoo felt a wave of disbelief wash over him. This had to be some kind of sick joke. But as he looked around the unfamiliar room and felt the strange lightness in his limbs, he couldn't deny that something was very wrong.

"Wait," he said, his voice trembling. "If I'm Mo Chou...then what happened to the real Mo Chou?"

The System chuckled, a sound that sent shivers down Min Hoo's spine. "Oh, don't worry about him," it said. "He no longer exists in this reality."

Min Hoo felt a chill run down his spine at the thought of being trapped in someone else's body forever. He tried to stand up but stumbled, his legs feeling weak and unsteady. He looked down at himself and saw that he was wearing a white silk robe with red trim, unlike anything he would ever wear in his old life as a mathematics professor.

As Min Hoo struggled to come to terms with his new reality, the System continued to provide him with information about his new life as Mo Chou. It told him about his position as one of the ten elders of Hanqin School and explained that he was known for being cold and hypocritical towards others, especially towards Xue Yang, the protagonist of 'The Last Hero'. It also informed him that he carried an umbrella at all times and had a blade hidden away in subspace or on his belt in a scabbard with golden patterns.

Min Hoo felt sick to his stomach as he listened to these details about Mo Chou's character and actions. He knew that if people found out about this switcheroo, they would never believe him – they would think he had gone completely mad. And what if they tried to hurt him because they thought he was Mo Chou? The thought filled him with dread and anxiety.

As Min Hoo continued to adjust to his new body and surroundings, the System informed him that there were special points awarded for completing various tasks within the novel's world – but if those points were ever lost or taken away due to failure or misconduct, Min Hoo would die in this body forevermore. The stakes were high indeed – but Min Hoo knew that he had no choice but to adapt and survive in this strange new world if he wanted any hope of finding a way back home.

Min Hoo ran his hands through his new silky long white hair. He looked like some kind of damn deity...although what else would you expect from that asshole Mo Chou?

Min Hoo took a deep breath, attempting to steady his racing heart. The room around him exuded an air of elegance, but all he could focus on was the absurdity of his situation. He had spent years teaching students the rigid rules of mathematics, only to wake up in a body that belonged to a villain from a novel he had grown tired of reading.

With newfound determination, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. His body felt strange—tall and slim yet powerful. The silken robe clung to him in ways that made him feel exposed.

He took a tentative step forward, testing the unfamiliar terrain of this world. Each movement felt fluid, almost graceful. Min Hoo moved towards a window draped with fine fabric and pulled it aside. Sunlight poured in, illuminating a vast expanse of verdant mountains and serene landscapes beyond. The sight was breathtaking; even he had to admit that.

But then he remembered: Mo Chou was supposed to be cold-hearted and hypocritical. Was that what people expected from him? How would they react if he didn't fit into their villainous mold?

His thoughts spiraled as he scanned the room for anything familiar—a sign of who Mo Chou really was or any clue on how to navigate this new existence. A small table caught his eye; atop it lay an intricately designed umbrella with gold embellishments that mirrored his own eyes.

"Great," he muttered under his breath. "An umbrella. What am I supposed to do with this? Fend off the sun while plotting my villainous deeds?"

Just then, the System chimed in with its robotic tone, "The umbrella is an essential part of your character's persona. You will find it quite useful."

"Useful for what?" Min Hoo shot back at the disembodied voice, exasperated by its ever-present interruptions.

"The world may demand your compliance with certain expectations," it replied cheerfully, completely unfazed by his frustration.

Before he could retort further, a soft knock on the door interrupted their exchange.

"Elder Mo Chou?" A timid voice called from outside.

Min Hoo froze, panic gripping him like ice claws. He had no idea how to respond or what kind of character Mo Chou had been in front of others. He glanced around as if searching for answers in the lavish room before finally taking a deep breath.

"Come in," he managed, trying to sound authoritative despite feeling utterly lost inside.

The door creaked open, revealing a young man with wide eyes and messy hair dressed in plain robes—clearly not one of Mo Chou's followers but someone who seemed genuinely anxious about interrupting an elder's morning routine.

"Your breakfast is ready, Elder Mo.." the young man said hesitantly.

The voice of the boy who entered was a little shaky, as if he was really afraid of Mo Chou. Although it was not surprising considering the character of the original Mo Chou. Ming Hu raised an eyebrow, but immediately relaxed his face when he received a scolding from the System, because Ming Hu should walk around with an indifferent and cold face while in the body of an antagonist.

Min Hoo nodded to the kid, thinking that this unremarkable guy was Mo Chou's personal servant in the novel. The man followed him into the clean, private dining room of his hut. And yet, Mo Chou, who had a bad reputation in the novel, lived quite well. Min Hoo sat on a soft cushion in front of the low table, straightening his back to further match the elder's statuesque figure.

While the servant served chopsticks to the table, Min Hoo looked around the dining room. In his past life, he could not have dreamed of such an estate. When the boy began to leave, the man said in a sharp voice.

"Stop." said Min Hoo in Mo Chou's body, frowning slightly. But then he still tried to subtly soften his tone, because when the former mathematics professor looked into the fearful eyes of this guy, his heart seemed to be pierced by a million needles. "...What is your name?" Min Hoo in Mo Chou's body decided to pretend that he simply forgot the name of an insignificant servant in order to hide the fact that he did not know him at all, since this was not in the novel.

The servant, caught off guard by Mo Chou's sudden address, froze mid-step, his body trembling slightly. His eyes were wide with trepidation, a stark contrast to the calm indifference that Mo Chou's visage was supposed to project.

"I...my name is Xiao Wei, Elder Mo Chou," he stuttered, bowing deeply to hide the fear that tinged his every word.

Min Hoo, in Mo Chou's body, observed the young man's reaction closely. Xiao Wei's genuine unease made the professor's heart clench with a strange sense of guilt. He had never held authority over anyone in his previous life, let alone terrified someone to this extent.

"Very well, Xiao Wei," Min Hoo said, infusing his voice with a cool detachment that he hoped would pass for Mo Chou's usual demeanor. "You may go now."

Xiao Wei bowed again, relief washing over his face as he backed out of the room with hurried steps, leaving Min Hoo alone with his thoughts and the sumptuous breakfast spread before him. The aroma of freshly steamed buns and brewed tea wafted through the air, enticing yet somehow tainted by the unsettling exchange that had just transpired.

Min Hoo reached for a bun, his slender fingers brushing against the warm bamboo steamers. He broke it open, revealing the soft, white interior, and brought a piece to his lips. The taste was familiar, comforting even, but it did little to ease the discomfort of his current predicament.

As he chewed mechanically, his mind raced with questions and concerns. How was he supposed to navigate this new life without arousing suspicion? Would he be able to maintain Mo Chou's facade while searching for a way back to his own world? The weight of his new reality pressed heavily upon him, making each bite feel like a chore.

The System's voice suddenly echoed in his head, "Remember, Mo Chou is known for his elegance and precision in everything he does, even in the simple act of eating. Be mindful of your manners."

Min Hoo glanced down at his hands, realizing that he had been holding the chopsticks clumsily. With a sigh, he adjusted his grip, taking care to mimic the graceful movements he had observed in countless period dramas during his former life.

He took another small bite, this time savoring the flavors as he forced himself to relax into Mo Chou's persona. The situation was far from ideal, but he knew that he had to adapt if he wanted to survive in this strange new world.