Chapter 1: I don't want to be here
I woke up as peasant girl no. 20.
The status window I saw in every webtoon I had ever read appeared in front of me like a dream. It was real. The fantasy thread that humanity sought to hold in their hands with the rise of transmigration stories had found me. A dream for those facing the harsh realities of a world where war was imminent and no amount of work could ever reward them with a place they could call their own.
Despite my love for reading such stories, despite all the cruel happenings in the world that had made me kneel on the ground for mercy. Even though this was a dream my teenage self would have always wanted.
"Lev," I whispered under my breath as I looked at my left hand with no jewellery in sight.
There was no time to mourn as a message popped up in front of the original status window.
-
MISSION #1: ATTAIN A SCHOLARSHIP AT THE MAGIC ARTS ACADEMY
REQUIREMENT:
DEXTERITY: 16/20
INTELLECT: 12/30
STRENGTH: 11/20
STAMINA: 23/20
MAGIC: 2/25
TIME LIMIT:
3 MONTHS AND 7 DAYS
-
I snorted when the word "academy" came into view. School had never brought any good memories and now in another world, I had to deal with it again. Sure, perhaps as a commoner this was possibly the best route I could go but being surrounded by teenagers again did not sound pleasant at all.
The floating message had no reward or punishment for not fulfilling it. Perhaps it was simply the world telling me what steps I should take next. I reached my hand into the air and clicked on the X on the top right. It closed the window just like a computer screen and my personal status window stared at me once again.
-
CURRENT TITLE: PEASANT GIRL NO. 20
NAME: ANASTASIA ISLIP
AGE: 18
BIRTHDAY: ????????
OCCUPATION: GATHERER
-
Oh?
It looked like the academy was more akin to a college than a high school. Still, it had been almost 15 years since I last stepped into a school. It felt like a tall order for a middle-aged woman like me to go through such a phase again. Post puberty of all times.
As I looked at my status again, the number attached to my title was too out of place. I pondered over the idea that I was truly transmigrated into a story, created by someone who numbered their creations. But for someone who had cared enough to number their side characters, was thinking of their birthday too difficult?
I turned to see my window, reflecting a little bit of my newly adopted appearance as well as the tall trees and massive bushes. The sun was shy behind trees but even I could tell it was dawn. I looked down at my clothes, cloth stitched onto cloth, even in the real world my clothes were never this ragged.
The memories are jagged, pieces I could not fit too well. My brain told me I must have died, according to all the stories I have read up until this point. Yet, not a single memory served to back up such a thought. Important memories feel locked behind a wall as my own name begins to fade away.
"Lev," I repeat. It would be too painful to forget such a name even as I am forced to live my life as a peasant in this unfamiliar world.
"Anna!" Someone called, and I knew it was for me.
A knock on my door and a pause before the door knob turned to reveal a teenage boy, clearly younger than me but had a build much bigger than mine.
"Are you still sleepin-" he stops when he sees me sitting on the bed.
"How are you still in bed?" he shakes his head. "Breakfast won't appear out of nowhere!"
-
CURRENT TITLE: PEASANT GIRL NO. 20'S BROTHER
NAME: BENEDICT ISLIP
AGE: 15
BIRTHDAY: ????????
OCCUPATION: ????
-
At least I know his name and age.
"Leave me alone," my voice was higher and more pitchy than what I was used to. I stretch my arms and pull the blanket away. "You won't starve from a later breakfast."
"But today is merchant day!" He whines and flails his arms around. I roll my eyes and hop off the bed, watching Benedict excitedly leave the room. "Breakfast!" He yelled.
A memory surfaced, one that did not belong to me. A flash of a much younger Benedict flailing his arms as I held a loaf of bread above his head, his cheeks were puffed up and his stature was scrawny. How could such a tiny boy turn out so much bigger in just a few years? I shook my head and my vision came back to the kitchen and panic started boiling.
I cannot cook.
Lev could cook, I remembered this well. He would cook the night before so I could bring homemade meals to the office to save money. It was often something simple such as instant noodles and egg, but other times he would make pasta, rice with chicken and spinach, or his speciality, mac and cheese.
The system seemed to have read my thoughts as a message popped up in front of me, a little more translucent than the previous status windows.
-
MINI-GAME #1: COOK FOR THE FAMILY
REQUIREMENT:
FOLLOW THE PROMPTED MESSAGES WITHIN THE TIME LIMIT TO SUCCESSFULLY COOK A MEAL FOR YOUR FAMILY!
REWARDS:
DEXTERITY +2
INTELLECT +1
MAGIC +2
-
It was simple enough. Whenever I needed to add an ingredient, the translucent blue would appear just above it with a 10-second timer for me to grab it. It would use words like "a pinch" and "a spoonful", words I could read quickly enough to do. Sudden pictures of my younger hands in front of an arcade game cycled through my head as I completed the mini-game.
-
MINI-GAME #1: COMPLETED
A BREAKFAST STEW MADE WITH LOVE AND MAGIC
CURRENT STATS:
DEXTERITY: 18/20
INTELLECT: 13/30
STRENGTH: 11/20
STAMINA: 23/20
MAGIC: 4/25
-
If this was how to raise my magic, my very first mission's future felt as bleak as the real world's economy.
"Anna, is breakfast ready?"
An older woman peeped into the kitchen; she looked around my actual age, maybe just a bit older. Anastasia's mother, probably. It made me think of my elderly mother, now alone without my father to love her. I had been the one visiting the most often but now that I'm here, it would be my older brother's duty to care for her. Maybe Lev would visit her often too, since I looked so much like her.
"It's done," I reply as I put on the mittens and carry the pot of stew into the dining area. The cabin was small, almost claustrophobically so. Small apartments followed me everywhere I went, even to another world.
The family was small, with just a dad, a mum, me, and Benedict. There was no status window when looking at Anastasia's parents, the author must have had them as nameless figures in Anastasia's life. It was similar to mine, except for the ages and child order. Nonetheless, it was familiar enough to fit in without looking too suspicious.
"The merchants will be arriving soon," Father announced. "They are here for the spring forages we had picked out for the past month."
It sounded oddly scripted. I may not be the world's most amazing conversationalist but the way he spoke sounded as if it was information an outsider had to know.
Like a reader.
"I have all of them packed in crates." My voice left my throat before I could stop myself. My lips moved on their own without a brain to instruct what they should do.
Is this where the peasant girl no. 20 appears in the story?
"You are taking the magic arts academy entrance examination soon, right?" Mother took a spoonful and sighed, "Do you have to?"
I never went to university in the real world, so honestly, I didn't have to.
But...
"It would be helpful to our family." The lines flowed out without any thought. "If I could get a scholarship, you wouldn't need to worry about the school fees."
"That's if you get it!" Benedict teased as he gobbled up the bowl of stew.
"I have faith in you."
I whipped my head to look at Father, he had a proud smile that was similar to my own dad's. It was warm and comforting, which brought a huge smile to my face. Mum often looked out the window solemnly since he crossed the rainbow road, and while I never shared the same intensity, it was hard not to miss him at this moment.
My head hurt for a moment when I tried recalling their faces, but I gave up soon enough, and the pain left when I did.
No one else spoke; perhaps the dialogue ended here in the story. Yet, time still continued and the food was eaten. Mother had a worried look on her face, and I understood why.
"Have faith in me," I said out of my own will. She sighed and rubbed her temples, wrinkles evident on her hands.
"If it's what makes you happy," she says, "but it's not easy being surrounded by nobles."
Oh.
It was never about the money.
I looked down at my hands and stared at my fingertips. Magic. It was real in this world, which meant it was something different than the real world, something I could feel that I never could. Something in this body could do magic that no one had possibly done before.
My fingertips started to heat up as I focused on it more. There was no guide as to what magic was and what I could do, but something in me felt instinctual.
Foraging, forest, flowers.
Ant bites were the closest thing I could describe as my fingers lit up a small blue glint. I thought about the pink flowers I gave my mum every year, the shape, the smell, and the sight of a happy woman.
Pink carnations burst out of my hand, just like magic. Benedict almost fell off his chair, but Anastasia's parents remained seated with a soft smile.
"Thank you for worrying about me." I gave the flowers to Mother and she held the petals with both her hands. The stem was forgotten when I created the carnation, but it turned out to be unimportant in the end.
-
NOTICE
YOU HAVE GAINED THE FOLLOWING:
MAGIC +2
INTELLECT +1
CURRENT STATS:
DEXTERITY: 18/20
INTELLECT: 14/30
STRENGTH: 11/20
STAMINA: 23/20
MAGIC: 6/25
-
That was convenient.
After breakfast, it was a clear scene change. Benedict carried the crates, and my body moved on its own to prepare for the merchants. Small pushes against my limbs dictated to me where to go to follow the story. It was not the most pleasant,t but thankfully not the worst experience.
Being 18 again felt awkward. My back felt stronger, likely due to the original body's foraging past. My joints were not cracking ever so often, and I could walk miles without stopping to catch my breath. On the other hand, maybe Anastasia's body was built differently, as I was a lot less fit at 18, considering I was not anywhere near a health-conscious person.
The stall that belonged to the Islip family in the marketplace at the centre of a bustling town was small. It could barely fit all the plants, berries, and other greens that were in the crates. Thankfully, a status window popped up every time I took a plant into my hands, showing the name as well as the effects it had. From healing properties to magic enhancement, the handy system told me everything I needed to know.
When the sound of horses and wheels got louder, other stall owners worked quickly while some were already prepared, standing behind their products. Benedict had begun stacking the empty crates while Anastasia's parents had not come with them.
The people bustling around the town all felt like real people, yet if I squinted a little, their movements were stiff as if the mindless chatter had no substance. Everything here was scripted, yet the gentle breeze on my skin felt too real to be a dream.
We sold a decent amount of products, a little more than half. There were enough silver coins to last for the month before the next round of large sales to the merchants.
-
NOTICE
YOU HAVE GAINED THE FOLLOWING:
MAGIC +1
INTELLECT +1
STAMINA +2
CURRENT STATS:
DEXTERITY: 18/20
INTELLECT: 15/30
STRENGTH: 11/20
STAMINA: 24/20
MAGIC: 7/25
-
What a cheat system. No wonder main characters in system manhwas became so strong so quickly.
As the days went by, everyday activities gave me stat bonuses. When I travelled through the deep forest, when I looked at each forage closely, when I cooked a meal, or when I tried to perform any sort of magic, I would gain a stat. It was as if the system was forcing me to hit the requirements for the mission.
Magic in this world was simple, it was the power of imagination. Becoming childlike again and picturing unbelievable feats such as a field of flowers or a flaming fireball was difficult at first, but it slowly got easier. The more my magic stat increased, the more visible the imagination became.
There was no mana or MP bar anywhere in my stat window, but at some point after doing a bunch of magic, my head would feel a migraine coming. The reason for the headache was easy to identify, especially since magic was highly connected to the mind.
Anastasia's schedule was easy to follow but not so easy to do. It was a blessing that her body was light and was used to the harsh terrains of the forest and the status window popping up at all the potential resources around the area. Her parents were often not around much, it was mostly her and Benedict foraging in the woods when the sun was high in the sky.
They would be at the dining table only at breakfast and dinner making the robotic schedule unnerving, to say the least.
My already scarred hands continue to scar, a cut appeared ever so often from the thorns of plants that were upset at being pulled. I wrapped them in a cloth and brought them to the stall twice a week to sell to the locals that lived in the town area. The walk from the cabin to the bustling town was far and it reminded me of the times I had to walk because my bus card ran out of money.
"I can't believe this is more soul-sucking than corporate." I took out the folded fan I had conjured a few days ago with magic and fanned myself. Benedict walked behind me to enjoy the gust of wind while the sun was beating down.
"It is such a hot day," Benedict sighed, not acknowledging my complaint.
"Corporate job," I said out loud.
Nothing.
Things I said out of free will did not receive proper responses half the time. If I said anything related to the real world, everyone reacted as if I had not spoken at all. They may even respond with an answer that deviated from anything I had said. As I encountered more awkwardly scripted conversations with the locals, Anastasia's family, and any other human in sight, it felt like my sanity decreased each time.
There were posters around the town square, locals requesting items they needed or a service they needed someone to do. An odd job posting kind of idea. I picked up those that needed magic, and even trying to have decent conversations with the townsfolk proved to be difficult. It felt closer to NPCs than actual human, even though I could feel their touch.
Extra copper coins awarded from these postings helped ease the family's finances. Benedict appreciated the desserts I could afford every once in a while. While my coin pouch had never been full before, food on the table remained consistent, and I never had to go hungry.
By the time a month had passed excruciatingly slowly, I had already hit my mission's requirement—well above the minimum for some stats.
-
MISSION #1: ATTAIN A SCHOLARSHIP AT THE MAGIC ARTS ACADEMY
REQUIREMENT:
DEXTERITY: 29/20
INTELLECT: 32/30
STRENGTH: 20/20
STAMINA: 43/20
MAGIC: 34/25
TIME LIMIT:
2 MONTHS AND 1 DAY
-
Once my strength had hit the minimum, I stopped consciously going for activities that could increase my stats. My days became shorter, and more time was put into foraging for the family and picking odd jobs for extra coins.
The merchant guilds that came monthly were the townfolks' biggest source of income. I guessed it was the only way for external funds to be pumped into the town.
This meant that for the month when not many merchant guilds came, the local prices would rise, and the odd job postings would pay out less.
Capitalism in another world.
"Let's cut down on the desserts and snacks," Mother said, pointedly looking at me.
"I could try to conjure a cake?" I questioned as I hovered my hands over a plate.
I imagined a strawberry shortcake, whipped cream surrounding the cake, something, something sweet.
What landed on the plate was whipped cream and half a strawberry with no actual cake. I heard Benedict's laugh echo across the room as I begrudgingly admitted defeat.
Turns out I could not bake or cook in real life or magic.
Anastasia had no friends, or at least no one she particularly talked to. Everyone around town was friendly but nothing beyond pleasantries. I could not find anything about Anastasia's academic past with the only indication of education being literacy. No one seemed surprised I could read and write and there were basic magic books at home on the shelves. Something inside me nudged the idea that I was homeschooled, which seemed very likely considering no schools were nearby.
That meant every day was boring. If I was not working I was just staring off into space. The sky gave me clouds to watch but I wanted nothing more than a screen to waste time on. Nothing happened in the peaceful town and there was little to no entertainment around the place.
The most interesting things were the bards that came once in a while and performed at the town square. I would send a copper coin flying when their performances ended, and they would occasionally put together an encore if enough people gave them coins.
A world without electronics was painfully boring, I wanted so badly to go home.
There were a few things I tried to get home with magic. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine myself back in the real world where magic was fake and Lev was sleeping next to me. Images of our apartment that had only enough room for the two of us as little bits of pieces of furniture pieced together in my memory. They felt tangible. The bean bag chairs in the living room, the refrigerator full of groceries, the shelf full of Japanese and Korean comics. All of it.
I opened my eyes.
Nothing.
The more I forced my mind to imagine, to recall, to bring me back to the life I knew, the more my heart ached. A place I called home for years with my love is gone.
Tears ran down my face as the moonlight peeked through the windows. I wept until my throat was dry and my hands were numb. This was supposed to be for those who suffered, and who were betrayed by people they love. All the chosen ones hit by a truck were orphans or had no one they loved. Why me?
It may have been a difficult life, sure. But I loved someone and was loved by him. Living in this world had every element of my teenage wishes to be special, but if I could choose, I would have never chosen to be here. I would choose Lev every time, my darling dearest.
I thought it would be alright.
However, with my hands itching from pointy leaves and my heavy reliance on little memories that the author had placed in this character's mind, it felt like even normal activities were daunting. The lack of my usual screen time, the practised conversations of the people in this story, and everything in between.
Everything sucks.
I miss you, Lev.
I don't want to be here.
-
NOTICE
I KNOW YOU DON'T.
-
Wait what? The status window appeared to me amid my tears. The surprise overtook my emotions, and I blinked slowly.
The prompt closed on its own within a second as I stared blankly at the blanket over my legs.
"Author?"
No response.
"System?"
Nothing.
Getting no reception became the norm ever since my eyes opened in this world. The system could hear me. Is it watching me?
"Hey, don't look at me when I'm doing my business in the outhouse I already hate how unsanitary it is," I spoke into the air, hoping my message reached whoever or whatever was in charge of the system.
I lay down on the mattress and closed my eyes.
For now, I shall sleep.