I'm grateful—really—for my parents' eagerness to see me up and running again, but damn, they won't even let me take a single day off from rehab sessions.
I'm starting to regret choosing the filial, polite-child persona.
To make matters worse, the private doctor my dad hired is an arrogant, obnoxious guy—though, admittedly, he is a professional at his job.
Have I mentioned the difference in how comatose patients are treated in this world compared to Earth? It's literally a world apart.
"Your initial rehab progressed far better than even most adults," he said, that irritating smirk plastered on his face. "It speaks volumes about your adaptability. Given that, it's only justified that your rehab should be more aggressive, right, Zachary?"
I really wanna punch him in the face for that smirk alone.
Enjoy your brief position of superiority, Dr. Alex Dwargo. Because soon—
It wasn't until a few days later that I found the changing daily routines manageable, and far less mentally taxing. With my mind no longer constantly fatigued, I finally had ample time and focusing ability to begin a deep inspection of my Life Code.
It took several days just to finish examining a single section—the Material (Physique) Code. The main reason was simple: my current brainpower couldn't process World Runes at a higher pace. Pushing further risked draining my consciousness of its clarity.
Diving into the Mind Code first wouldn't help. Not only was it far more complex than the Material Code, doing so would only hinder my overall recovery rate.
Halfway through the inspection of the Material Code, I discovered something unexpected—something pleasant.
Why?
Because this body had, at some point, ingested food capable of introducing evolutionary traits down to the genetic level. If it had been harmful, I wouldn't be nearly this happy. I could see faint remnants of metadata from those foods embedded within the Material Code, successfully altering its structure. The changes were minute, but they resulted in an observable increase in overall potential.
Just what kind of miracle medicine was I fed before waking up?
Altering a being's Material Code is no trivial matter, no matter how small the change. Such a process must be consciously guided—either by oneself or by someone deeply versed in the Language of the Codes.
To even attempt such an alteration, one must understand not only the five basic Edicts, but also several branches of the Existence Code.
For clarity: one section of Code—such as the Material Code—corresponds to one Edict. All living beings possess a Life Code. Most have at least two Edicts, and at most five, within it.
Inanimate objects, especially mundane ones, possess only a single Edict: the Material Code.
Mastering even one Edict would take hundreds of years. Even with generous assumptions, mastering all five basic Edicts would still require thousands.
Add the prerequisite branches of the Existence Code needed to safely alter a mortal's Life Code, and—congratulations!
You'll graduate in around one hundred and fifty thousand years!
Anyway, the current keyword here is ingested. According to what I've seen so far, I really don't expect this world to held such deep secret. Natural foodstuffs that can exhibit such effects are in no way common based on my past life knowledge.
I just hope that whatever that thing is, no XenoGods caught winds of it. If it did? at my current level and in the near future, I'm bailing.
Flinging that dreadful possibility to the back of my head, my focus immediately shift to another immediate dilemma.
The path I should take to obtain strength.
With that discovery about that natural ingestible materials that can strengthen a living being's Material Code, my dream of living a cozy and lazy life can be officially thrown out of the window.
I can't sense Mana in this world, which means magic is a long shot.
Daoic Enlightenment? Hmmm, haven't seen weird phenomenons occuring yet. Not even on news channels.
A very harsh dilemma because this world looks and feels mundane. I would have also stayed ignorant if not for my discovery....
Can I curse?
FUCK!!!!
....
My mood over the next few weeks wasn't good.
I was forced to wake up early every day for tor—I mean, rehab. I stayed up late every night to finish inspecting the other two Edicts of my Life Code, and still had to brainstorm viable paths I could take to become stronger.
So far, it was mostly bad news—with one exception.
I discovered something about the foodstuffs capable of altering a living being's Life Code. They were herbs and spices that grew naturally on the Archi-Malavia continent.
Some of them, at least.
I found this out from Neil, my Dad, who seems weirdly knowledgeable about the effects and benefits of local herbs and spices regularly used in local cuisine.
If it is indeed like what I found out from him, that means the people of this region occasionally ingest foodstuffs that could strengthen their Life Code. In extension, their Life Level.
Then something clicks in my brain one night. The chronicle of King Ard Adamas Malais that sounds more mythical than real. His feats. His strength, smartass-ness. It all made sense now.
Heh.
This El Malais Kingdom is really interesting.
Truly, very fascinating.
Unfortunately, my current inability to inspect other beings' Life Codes remained the main source of my foul mood.
Still, the few weeks of recovery were productive—mostly because I channeled my annoyance and irritation with my situation (and for that guy) into fuel for my workouts—and the physical results became impossible to ignore.
I could walk normally. Heavy food no longer upset my stomach. More importantly, the hormonal growth that should have occurred years ago—stalled by prolonged inactivity of both body and mind—was showing clear signs of compensation.
Late-onset puberty triggered by situational attributes wasn't gentle. It reshaped the body aggressively. Fortunately, the cuisine prepared by the maids, with directions provided by Dr. Dwargo, accelerated recovery at an absurd rate. Years of lost development were being repaid in weeks time.
Somewhere between this period of time, when things began to stabilize, I experienced a normal, but embarassing to admit. I got a... cough! (wet dream) cough!
From that point on, growth came in bursts. My height increased by tens of centimeters over the span of days. Bone density improved. Muscle adapted rapidly. My body grew tougher, more resilient—and endlessly hungry.
The appetite was the worst part. Very demanding despite this body's fragility. But hey, it's getting better so I'll complain less.
....
[Location: West Vagrania, Urus Amuria Nation — Far West of the Southern Eurysterr Continent]
3rd Month, Year 402 of the AR Calendar
Anton jolted awake on the bed with a sharp gasp. His eyes darted around the room, filled with fear, panic, and confusion—as if something was deeply wrong.
To any onlooker, nothing seemed out of place. But to the young man himself, everything felt alien.
The unfamiliar architectural style was the first thing he noticed.
"Did I survive? Did someone save me?" Anton muttered under his breath. He remembered he was chased in the confine of his own house by a masked person. With a knife.
Then another unfamiliarity registered—his voice. It didn't sound like the one he remembered.
Anton lifted his hands into his line of sight, and his eyes widened. These weren't his hands. Even the complexion was different from anything he recognized.
His gaze swept across the room again, searching for answers—until it landed on a mirror hanging on the wall.
Anton almost flew toward it.
Standing before the mirror, he stared at the reflection—and froze.
Disbelief crept into his mind, accompanied by a growing fear of the unknown.
More accurately—
"Who the hell is this handsome bastard?!"
It took quite a while for Anton to calm down and shake off the rising arousal he felt from seeing his own reflection. At this point, he was almost beautiful.
Taking a few deep breaths, Anton looked again, his eyes carefully scanning the image and noting what had changed from what he remembered.
A high nose bridge. A razor-sharp jawline. Blue eyes. Messy blond hair. His shoulders were broader than before. Taller, too—around 190 centimeters, or 1.9 meters.
The room's interior décor looked modern, yet several elements were either missing or replaced with unfamiliar counterparts—different in shape, size, aesthetics, and apparent function.
It seemed the only possible explanation was that he had woken up in someone else's body.
Something felt delayed—then finally—
"ARGHHH!!"
Anton screamed at the top of his lungs as a violently obnoxious migraine assaulted his brain.
Memories belonging to this body surged to the forefront of his mind, flashing rapidly and vividly like a long movie. A painfully long one—though in real time, it ended in barely ten seconds.
BAM!
The door to Anton's room was kicked open as two burly men, both taller than Anton himself, stormed inside.
"The fuck are you yelling for?!" one of them shouted, his expression menacing—clearly furious at being interrupted from whatever he'd been doing.
The second man didn't speak, but judging from the twisted frown on his face, he was just as pissed.
Anton.... No, Adam Elliot's mouth opened, but no words emerged.
From the body's memories, Anton realized these two men were Cedric and Brutus Elliot. His stepbrothers...
He also now knew his identity,
"Nah. No way. I- I'm Adam Elliot...?" The realization hits him harder than the knife he tanked with his abdomen. Because....
Adam Elliot is the protagonist of his novel. This world : The stage of a grimdark story.
He's the author, who thinks it'd make his light novel way better if he torture the protagonist continuously. Physically and mentally.
It did make the story better, and he made a lot of money from the novel, almost becoming a millionaire author.
Unfortunately, a crazy fan who got too absorbed in the story, felt that Anton is an evil guy and did the unthinkable....
Anton died in the hands of his novel's fan.