The Novel's Professor

The stars sure are bright, he silently thought, while staring at the grand view of the night sky.

The stars were nothing but enviable. They were grand, bright, and ever-shining. A beacon of hope and light, something he could never be.

A life of void, and monotonous continuity, can only envy those like stars, for which he is nothing but a simple existence with nothing going on in his life.

The fumes of his smoking continued to spread, the air having an acrid, uncomfortable smell.

Once he was as bright as the star, it was when he was a kid. A kid with a cheery personality, unrealistic dreams and expectations. Now? He was just nothing sort of similar. If he had a childhood friend that recognized him, they would probably blink in shock to his current state. Depressing and apathetic.

Reality was just too cruel. Growing up was something many were usually excited about, including him, but when you actually experience growing up, you will realize everything that you thought as a child was fictitious at best.

Dreams and goals were just shattered by the cruel projection of reality. In that matter, men were just not born equal. Equality is nonsense when you have people better than you at birth.

There is simply a category; for those destined for success and whose life is thrilling. And a category for those like him who are destined for mediocrity and boring lives. Even if you put in hard-work, without talent and luck, it's simply fictitious to hope to be in the realms of successful people.

Then again, his life was never about seeking success. It was the feeling the came with it. Fulfillment.

The smoke slowly drifted away. That was when he snapped out of his daze and realized the cigarette ran out. He threw it away and stepped on it.

'I been thinking of useless negative things... lately,'

He thought while shaking his head. Taking out his phone, the screen reflected his appearance. Black hair, and eyes, with white skin. Average at its utmost, his face was young, not a baby face but likened of a young adult. "As I am a 26 year old young adult," he muttered in-a-matter-of-fact tone.

Turning on his phone, he messaged the author he's currently assigned to. Being an editor is one of his part-time jobs, specifically on web novels. The author he's assigned to is not that bad, his book is good too. Albeit a bit cliché and slow.

'Hey, Rio here,' he typed. His name, as it shows, is Rio. A very ironic name, like the blue bird from a cartoon that didn't know how to fly, but eventually achieved to. He continued typing, 'Where are you?'

He waited for several minutes, but the man didn't respond. At this point, he should just go to the man's place and talk about it in person, he thought.

—

The apartment where the man was staying at is unusually big, even if Rio came here a couple times in the past. It's simply a treat to enter such a house.

John Smith was the name of the author he was assigned to. John Smith was a friendly and approachable man. Rio originally thought he will never get along with someone so cheery, but life just turns around and give a big slap like usual. They were friends, great one's infact.

He was inside the apartment, yet Rio still didn't see John Smith anywhere. Maybe he was at upstairs, he thought as he tried calling onto his name, "John!"

He tapped his foot impatiently, as a few minutes pass yet the man in question didn't answer. This was rare. Usually he didn't go outside at this time of the night, he was a frantic writer. His dedication was truly insane. One time he wrote a full day without break. It was like information was being transmitted to his mind, Rio thought.

Who was he kidding? That's just bizarre. Then again, the man in question was an enigma itself.

"It seems like he isn't home yet," He muttered loudly, as he checked his watch. As he said that, a vibration came into his pocket. He took out his phone and speak of the devil. It was John. He messaged me, though the message was a bit weird.

'Hey, Rio. Do you like your life?'

That came off...randomly, but maybe it was something important. He thought as he answered.

'... Frankly, no.'

'Do you wish for... a more thrilling? A more fantasy like, magical like, life?'

Now that one was a weird question. His instincts were shouting red flags at the moment but he calmed it down. Instead of responding, he instead asked.

'What is this about? That's a weird question,' Rio messaged, which got an immediate response from John.

'Nothing, just answer it. Think of it… as a way to finish my novel.'

Oh, so it was that. Though why that question? Well oddly enough he was getting sleepy so he just answered as best as he could.

'Well, yes.'

Then John didnt reply anymore. It was weird if ever he thinks about this day again, however, intense sleepiness was overcoming his mental defenses.

No, no— It wasn't sleepiness. He was blacking out. He couldnt control his body anymore, he was in terror and shrill panic. But he couldnt move. It was like he's going to sleep forever. He tried his best, but was simply not enough, just like always. Trying his best was never enough.

His eyes closed, his body fell as a thud rang out in the room. It was unknown what happened. As his thud rang out, the door opened as it creaked.

—

Ah…what happened? His eyes were still closed, only to hear loud chatterings in the area. Frankly, it was annoying. He didn't like crowded places. The voices kept getting louder and then he opened his eyes in sheer annoyance.

"…Eh?"

Eh? Where..am I?

His eyes darted around the room, noticing the unfamiliar walls and ceilings, along with several people.

..Where is this?! No, no— first, what happened?!

Frantically panicking, he resolved his thoughts and started to calm down and view the situation more calmly.

The room was big, it was an office. Desk were all placed in the room, on top was papers and bags, Rio checked the desk he was on, and there was a nameplate. It was named, 'Rio Salem'.

"…Rio Salem?" Sure, the first name was his, but the last name was completely different. Salem isn't his surname. Now he didn't know what was happening. Why is he on the desk of this supposedly Rio Salem?

The chats of nearby people were loud enough, so he deigned to listen to gain more information about what is happening.

"So, do you think there's gonna be some promising students this time?"

"Well, the son of a duke is attending, and supposedly a talented kid from the middle of nowhere,"

"Ooh, wildcards eh? The son of the duke? Like the dukedom who specializes in Martial Arts and Sorcery?"

Students…Rio proccessed the information 'calmly'. Oh well, even if he was panicking inside it's not like he's showing it. Somehow this weirdly bizzarre plot is familiar, but put aside the familiarity later and review the situation for now.

So. He got knocked out last night by suddenly blacking out in John's house. He woke up on a teacher's office with no knowledge of whatever is happening, and apparently dukes and royalty still exist! Martial Arts and Sorcery?! If he had not known better, he would have thought he was in a fantasy…world.

No..way right?

Rio stood up and slammed the table, taking everyone's sudden notice. The other teachers glanced at him, noticed he was sweating.

"Are you okay, Salem?" A few concerned ones asked, while others just casted a curious glance and resumed talking.

"No, n—, Yes. I'm fine…thank you." He nodded, still in daze. However distracted he was, he still caught up to what he was called.

"What did you call me?" Rio asked in a hurried tone, worried as if confirming something ominous. The other party was bewildered and confused, but still tried their best to answer, "..Salem?"

Something in Rio's mind shut down, and boom he directly fell on the chair as he sat down. Noticing the odd vacant stare that Rio was giving, the other party distanced themselves.

My name…is Rio Salem..? Isn't that the name of the teacher here on this desk..? So…I'm Rio Salem? No, no, it's too early to say. Let's check a mirror. If my appearance is different then…

Seeing a rather large tablet on the desk, he picked it up and put the screen into his face.

That's where everything has been confirmed.

This is not…him. He didn't have brown hair nor as handsome of a face. His new face was like a piece of artwork compared to his original one. He tried opening the tablet with just the sheer absurdity of the situation. Then that's where things got more absurd.

Year, 2400, August 1.

He feels like laughing. In just one single day, everything he knows about has been turned around. Reality, or rationality simply disappeared. Who is he anyhow? Is he Rio from 2021, or is he Rio Salem from 2400? He doesn't know, truly.

Everything has gone weird, crazy and insane. He blacked out in his friend's house, woke up in a different body on a futuristic world, apparently theres also magic and martial arts here. What is this a dungeon litrpg?

Everything is just so bizarre that he simply smiled mirthlessly. It's he gone insane or the world gone insane, frankly he hopes it's the latter. At this point It wouldnt be a surprise if something like dragons or dimensions appeared.

Other people, teachers, were starting to notice his weird vacant stare. It was as if a madman, no, it was like a human discovering nihilism and embracing nothingness.

"…Salem?" Others called out to him,

Rio turned around from the mirror, focusing his vacant blank stare on the person that called him. He didn't know what he should do in this situation, so he simply smiled, and ask.

"Yes,"

The others just felt weirded out, like it was occultism or mystic. Rio didn't know he was already branded as a weirdo on his first day.