PREVIEW:
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Carl Reyes had plans. Not great ones, but plans nonetheless. Graduate nursing school, maybe disappoint his parents a little less, and most importantly—not get isekai'd by a rogue lightning bolt.
But life (or some cosmic troll) had other ideas.
Now, Carl's stuck in a world where monsters lurk in the shadows, a sarcastic system loves making his life miserable, and his biggest accomplishment so far is beating a predator to death with a frying pan. Oh, and there's a "Return" button that promises he can go home… after a 24-hour cooldown. Because of course there is.
With no overpowered cheat skills, no destined hero status, and an ever-growing suspicion that he's a background character in someone else's epic, Carl has one goal—survive first, complain later.
(And maybe, maybe find a real weapon before his "Pan Wielder" title becomes permanent.)
If you like reluctant protagonists, sarcastic system messages, and characters who have no business being in a fantasy world, then welcome aboard. Just don't expect Carl to be happy about it.
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Chapter 1: The Book That Shouldn't Exist
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The Weight of Expectations (And How to Pretend They Don't Crush You)
The dorm room was quiet—too quiet. The kind of silence that made Carl's skin itch, like the universe was just waiting for him to do something productive.
The laptop in front of him blared an unfinished essay on human anatomy. Supposedly. But all he saw was a blinking cursor and the existential dread of a future he didn't ask for. Nursing school? Check. Medical school? Expected. High-paying job abroad? Non-negotiable. His parents had the whole damn script memorized.
Carl, meanwhile, had ad-libbed his way into pretending he wasn't suffocating.
His fingers drummed against the desk. Maybe, once upon a time, he thought nursing was a good idea. Maybe he even liked it. But somewhere along the way, it had stopped being his choice. And now, he was just another supporting character in The Life and Sacrifices of Our Dutiful Son™, a critically acclaimed production starring guilt, obligation, and parental disappointment.
'You'll thank us when you're older.'
'You don't know what's best for you.'
'We sacrificed so much for you—can't you do this one thing for us?'
Carl let out a slow exhale, rubbing his face. Guilt-tripping was his parents' Olympic sport, and damn, were they gold medalists.
So he played along. Smiled. Joked. Because when you're the funny one, no one notices when you're falling apart.
"Why stress when you can make a joke about it?" That was the philosophy.
When his mom nagged him to study? "Relax, I'm already a genius."
When his dad scolded him about his grades? "Hey, at least I'm still enrolled."
When his friends complained about their problems? He made sure they laughed—because as long as they were laughing, no one would ask if he was okay.
Carl had mastered the art of deflection. A professional, really. And right now, he needed an escape.
So, he did what any self-respecting procrastinator would do—opened a new browser tab and went down an internet rabbit hole.
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A Book, A Joke, and A Cosmic Middle Finger
He scrolled through conspiracy theories, creepy pastas, urban legends—the usual. Until he saw it.
A forum thread:
"The Book That Only Appears to Those Not Meant for This World."
Carl snorted. Oh, this was gonna be good.
Curious, he clicked. The page was filled with cryptic messages and anonymous testimonials.
This book finds those who don't belong.
It appears when someone is truly out of place in their life.
If you found this, it's because you're not supposed to be here.
Carl leaned back, unimpressed. "Right. And I suppose it also grants three wishes and a free therapy session?"
Still, he kept reading. Because boredom.
Apparently, people had seen glimpses of a strange, leather-bound tome in their peripheral vision—only for it to disappear when they looked directly at it. Some claimed to have read it but couldn't remember a single word afterward.
Carl rolled his eyes. "Let me guess, it also whispers ancient secrets in your sleep? Maybe teaches you the meaning of life? Pfft."
And then—the lights flickered.
The ceiling fan groaned to a stop. His laptop screen glitched, static crawling across the display. The forum page blanked out.
For a fraction of a second, a single line of unreadable text flashed on-screen. Strange symbols, twisting, shifting—like they weren't meant to be seen by human eyes.
Then—
Darkness. (Basically a blackout)
Not just in his room. Outside, too. The city lights beyond his window? Gone. It was like the world had simply… stopped existing.
Carl sat there, blinking at the void. Then exhaled through his nose. "Well. That's mildly concerning."
Then—
Lightning. Inside his room.
No time to react. No time to scream.
White-hot light swallowed everything.
And then—
Nothing.
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To Be Continued…