Chapter 2 : I Tried to Chill the Universe Say No
It had been a few days since Kevin found himself stuck in this world. Strangely enough, he wasn't freaking out like he thought he would. Actually… he felt kind of chill about the whole thing.
Was it because of Iron Will?
That trait was supposed to make him immune to mental attacks.
Was panicking considered a mental attack?
Kevin didn't know, and honestly, he wasn't about to overthink it. What's good is good. If the trait was doing work, he'd take it. He wasn't complaining.
He also wasn't in any hurry to go back to Earth.
It's not like he had anything waiting for him there.
His entire family had been killed in the aftermath of The First Surge—the global disaster when dungeons and monsters first started appearing. He was only ten when it happened.
Friends?
Hunters didn't really do friendship. In a profession where death could strike at any moment, getting close to someone was considered reckless—borderline suicidal. Because if someone you cared about died right in front of you… would you still be able to focus on clearing the dungeon?
And in a dungeon, losing focus meant death. Hesitate for even a second, and that was it. One misstep, one emotional slip—and the monsters would tear you apart before you could even scream.
So, with nothing tying him to Earth, Kevin had done the smart thing: he started gathering information the moment he arrived.
From what he learned, his father's name was Lord Edric Grant—a powerful Margrave who governed nearly the entire western border of the kingdom. A big deal, politically and militarily. The kind of man who commanded armies and crushed rebellions before breakfast.
His mother had unfortunately died shortly after giving birth to him, and with his father refusing to remarry, Kevin was left as the sole heir of the Grant family.
Despite the loss, Lord Edric—though outwardly strict—had doted on him fiercely. He never handed out harsh punishments and mostly let Kevin get away with anything. He ensured his son had only the best: the finest tutors, the best weapons, the most luxurious clothes. Whatever Kevin wanted, he got.
And because of that, Kevin had grown up spoiled beyond belief. With wealth, status, and a father who overlooked nearly every offense, he'd become the textbook definition of an entitled brat.
He insulted guests, humiliated servants for fun, and once challenged a baron's son to a duel because the boy sneezed too loudly at dinner. And won.
Why? Because there was no way a baron's son could refuse—let alone try to beat—the heir of the Grant family.
That kind of unchecked ego turned Kevin Grant into something of a legend.
A very unpleasant one.
His reputation? Widespread. From the royal capital to neighboring kingdoms, he was known as "The Golden Failure of House Grant."
Of course, no one ever said it to his face—unless they had a death wish. Kevin had only found out after sneaking around the mansion, eavesdropping on a couple of unusually brave maids gossiping in the kitchen.
It didn't take a genius to piece things together.
The reason Kevin Grant—a custom character he'd made himself—ended up with such a ridiculous background had to be the traits.
Villain Tendency and Marked Reputation.
From what Kevin remembered, picking Noble Born during character creation usually just gave you some random noble from the capital. A viscount's kid with a bit of influence.
But here? He was the heir to the largest noble house in the entire western region. Practically royalty in the frontier provinces.
Whoever—or whatever—was responsible for throwing him into this world must've decided it had to make some kind of sense. After all, if a low-ranking noble had a trait like Villain Tendency, he'd have been executed the moment he mouthed off to someone more important. Probably years ago.
So of course, they had to make him untouchable.
Because with Villain Tendency, anything less would've gotten him killed before the story even started.
Thankfully, Marked Reputation only made him start with a bad reputation. The traits didn't prevent you from fixing it.
But still—trying to increase your reputation with Villain Tendency? That was going to suck.
Because unlike Marked Reputation, Villain Tendency didn't stop at background flavor. It affected everything—his tone, his posture, his expressions. It warped the way he walked, talked, even smirked.
He had to manually unclench his jaw from smirking sometimes. How the hell was that even a thing?
It was like playing a game on hard mode...
As the final boss.
Well, maybe not the final boss.
More like an early-game miniboss. The kind that gets soloed by the tutorial hero.
Because despite having the best teachers, the finest training halls, and every top-tier resource money could buy...
His swordsmanship sucked.
Like, embarrassingly bad.
He'd heard it straight from those same gossiping maids in the kitchen.
What a brave Maids those two are.
Anyway, back to the moment he arrived in this world.
Not five minutes in, he'd been summoned to his father's drawing room. No dramatic welcome, no magical tutorial pop-up, just:
"Your father wishes to see you, young master."
The topic? Academy admission.
Apparently, the old Kevin—the original, entitled brat who previously inhabited this body—had been dead set on enrolling in Aethereon Academy. For reasons Kevin still didn't know.
Lord Edric Grant, however, had been firmly against it.
His reason?
"Everyone is considered equal in the Academy so you can't make any trouble."
Which was, frankly, complete BS.
There was no way a commoner could harm a noble and walk away unscathed. Everyone knew that. But the Academy did attract students from the highest tiers of nobility. Dukes. Marquesses. Even royalty.
Kevin's father might be untouchable in the western frontier, ruling the borderlands like a king in all but name—but the Capital was a different beast entirely.
If Kevin got into trouble with, say, the son of a Duke... or worse, a prince? Even Lord Grant's influence might not be enough to cover the fallout.
And knowing the old Kevin's personality, trouble wasn't a possibility—it was a guarantee.
Honestly? He agreed with his father.
Why bother with the Academy?
Meeting the main character? Getting tangled up in plot threads and noble drama? No, thanks.
The smart move was staying far away from all that.
He was rich, for god's sake. The Grant estate was massive. He had servants, chefs, a personal bathhouse, and enough gold to live ten lifetimes without lifting a finger.
Screw character development. This was early retirement with abs.
Maybe he'd even train a little. Swordsmanship wouldn't be that hard. It was his main weapon back on Earth anyway—sure, this body felt weaker than his hunter self, but the fundamentals were there. Muscle memory, instinct, discipline.
And so what if everyone thought he was a failure? He could afford to cry into silk pillows and hundred-year-old wine.
Life was finally looking up.
Then it happened.
A sharp chime rang in the air.
Ding!
Kevin blinked.
In front of him, a glowing blue window shimmered into existence, hovering mid-air like a transparent screen pulled from a game UI.
---
[Main Quest Activated]
Title: Enroll in Aethereon Academy
Objective:
Arrive at Aethereon Academy before the semester begins
Complete entrance registration
Attend the Opening Ceremony
Deadline: 60 Days
Reward: Story Progression
Penalty: Immediate Death
---
Kevin stared at it.
Then leaned back in his silk armchair, gazed up at the gold-trimmed ceiling of his private study, and let out a long, dramatic sigh.
And—
"AAAAARGHHH!"
He screamed, clutching his head and thrashing around like a child throwing a tantrum on a velvet couch.
"Now?! It decided to show up now?! Where the hell was it when I was actually looking for it?!"
He remembered it clearly—few hours after waking up in this world, he'd gone through every isekai cliché in the book. Standing in the middle of his room, waving his arms like a lunatic and shouting every possible command he could think of.
"Status!"
"Stats!"
"Character Sheet!"
"Inventory!"
"Show me my damn property!"
"System! Interface! UI! DAMN!"
Nothing.
Now, days later, when he had finally accepted his new life of lazy luxury and zero ambition, the window decides to show up—with a death threat attached.
He threw a pillow across the room. It hit a priceless vase. The vase exploded.
Just then, the door opened.
His ever-composed butler, an older gentleman in a crisp uniform, poked his head in with the calm professionalism of a man who had witnessed decades of rich people nonsense.
He glanced at the shattered vase. Then at Kevin, standing there wild-eyed, sweating, fists clenched, glaring at empty air like it had insulted his mother.
A long pause.
"...Very good, young master," the butler said calmly, before gently closing the door.
Click.
Kevin blinked.
"...He definitely thinks I've lost it."
He rolled onto his back, glaring at the ornate ceiling.
"Now I look insane and I'm gonna die if I don't go to a glorified anime school..."
With a groan, he pushed himself off the couch.
Fine.
If the system wanted him to go to that damn school, then he'd go.
But he'd do it on his terms.
He straightened his clothes, ran a hand through his hair, and stormed out of his room.
It was time to have a word with dear old dad.
***
Kevin stood in front of his father's study.
He hadn't wasted a second getting here. Two months. That's all he had. And he didn't know jack shit about getting into that academy.
Worse, the quest wasn't even optional. He couldn't reject it.
His insides still boiling with frustration over those stupid floating windows. Apparently, anger and mild frustration didn't count as a mental attack under Iron Will.
He'd planned to knock first—really, he had. But thanks to Villain Tendency, his hand moved on its own—snapping the door open like a noble demanding tribute.
Lord Edric Grant looked up from his desk, unimpressed.
"Could you knock?"
Kevin strolled in like he owned the place and didn't bother sitting. He stood before the desk like it was a throne and Edric was a courtier being granted an audience.
"I've changed my mind about the academy," he said coolly, eyes half-lidded in lazy arrogance.
Edric arched a brow. "Again? I thought you agreed not to go."
"I did. Then I reconsidered." Kevin crossed his arms, tone turning sharp. "It would be humiliating if House Grant's only heir didn't attend the Academy. Even the crown prince is enrolling this year. Or are you saying a prince has more spine than your son?"
There was a pause. Edric exhaled slowly. He rubbed his temple with two fingers.
"It would be even more humiliating if you took the exam and failed."
Kevin smirked—slow and crooked. "Then it's a good thing I don't plan on failing."
Edric's eyes narrowed. "Is this about your fiancée?"
Kevin blinked once. Then tilted his head slightly, voice laced with condescension. "Do you really think I'd change my entire future over a girl?" He scoffed. "Please."
That did it.
Edric's hand slammed down on the desk—hard. The heavy oak cracked under the force, a sharp crack echoing through the study like a gunshot. Papers jumped. An inkwell tipped over.
When he spoke, his voice was raised, strained, and raw.
"I told you—I CAN'T afford to babysit you if you start trouble at that academy!"
Kevin didn't flinch. Didn't even blink. Another lovely perk from Villain Tendency—he'd become practically allergic to intimidation.
"Then don't," he said smoothly. "Let me burn or shine on my own. Either way, the name Grant will be remembered."
Edric inhaled sharply, eyes flashing—but then he closed them, forcing the breath out through his nose like he was wrestling a storm into submission.
His voice, when it came, was quieter—but cold.
"Fine. You'll take a test. My test. If you fail, you're not going. I won't let you drag this house into ruin for your pride."
Kevin gave a shallow bow, more mocking than respectful. "Understood. I look forward to showing you how little you understand your own son."
Then he turned on his heel and swept out of the study.
***
Kevin left the study, jaw tight, footsteps echoing sharply down the hall.
Gods. What the hell was that?
He hadn't meant to act like such a prick. Really. He came in with a plan—calm, reasonable, just ask for permission, maybe drop a subtle argument about appearances or prestige.
Just play the respectful son card.
But the moment he opened his mouth, it all went sideways.
Villain Tendency was already working overtime—twisting his tone, sharpening his glare, injecting venom into every word like he'd rehearsed them for the role of "arrogant bastard #1."
And the worst part?
It worked. He sounded confident. Commanding. Like someone who crushed negotiations for breakfast.
And then there was that line.
Fiancée?
He kept his face stone-cold when Edric mentioned it, but inside?
He was reeling.
He had a fiancée?
What the hell?
No one told him he had a fiancée. Not the maids, not the butler, not even the damn system window.
Was it some noble engagement thing?
A political alliance?
Childhood promise sealed over tea and shortbread?
And why did dear old dad bring her up out of nowhere?
Was that why the old Kevin had wanted to attend the academy so badly?
To prove himself
To keep a promise?
To follow her there like some lovesick noble idiot?
Kevin nearly groaned.
What next?
A secret love letter?
A tragic duel over feelings?
Gods, please no.
Whatever it was, it sounded like drama. The kind he had zero interest in getting sucked into.
And now, apparently, he was going to magic school.
Against his better judgment, he found himself wondering
Just how bad could it be?