Imagination Overdrive: If I Think It, It Becomes Real

Morning came way too fast.

Like, I swear I just blinked, and suddenly, I was being forcibly dragged into consciousness like I got hit with a resurrection spell I never agreed to.

But whatever. Academy life waits for no one.

I pulled up to class, half-awake, half-annoyed, and immediately got hit with the usual:

Half the nobles looking at me like I'm a plague-infested rat.

The other half looking like they're seconds away from throwing holy water at me.

Nice to know I'm so beloved.

Naturally, I claimed my throne at the back, the VIP section for people who would rather die than participate.

Quick check-in:

✔ Died.

✔ Reincarnated.

✔ Magical academy.

✔ Protagonist energy? Eh.

✔ Villainess plotting something? Of course.

✔ Rival prince inbound? God, I hope not.

Speaking of villainous activity, Amiliya sat front and center, probably manifesting my downfall with sheer willpower.

Then, just as I was about to mentally check out, the old instructor walked in—the one whose face screamed "I have severe backstory trauma".

He cleared his throat. "Class, we have a new student joining us."

And then—because the universe hates me—he walked in.

The room froze.

The air got heavy.

The noble girls collectively lost their minds.

Even Amiliya was blushing, and that alone told me I was about to suffer.

And just like that, my arch-nemesis had arrived.

"This is Prince Julian, heir to the Silverthorne Empire. We are honored to welcome you here."

Julian stepped forward, looking like he just stepped out of a romance novel.

His voice? Smooth, composed, disgustingly perfect.

"It's my pleasure."

Oh great, he's polite.

That's even worse.

I muttered under my breath, "Ah, where's Mort then?"

No one laughed. Tough crowd.

The instructor with the tragic backstory ignored me like the walking L that I was and gestured toward an open seat.

"Please take a seat wherever you like, Prince."

Julian strolled through the class, moving at the slowest, most arrogant speed possible.

Then, right as he passed by my desk, he paused.

And then—oh boy—he hit me with that look.

That "you are the scum beneath my royal boots" look.

That "you are worth less than a slightly cracked teacup" look.

That "you're a piece of shit, no one likes you, go to hell" look.

Oh, we HATE each other already? Say less.

Well. Whatever. Class sucked. Moving on.

---

Lunch Break – AKA 'I'm About to Break Stuff'

So, turns out, I had never actually seen the cafeteria because the author forgot to describe it yesterday.

And wow.

This wasn't a cafeteria.

This was a five-star Michelin restaurant cosplaying as a school lunchroom.

Actually, scratch that. This was a 13-star hotel buffet, because I said so.

I grabbed some mystery food, took one bite, and ascended to another plane of existence.

Then, while I was strolling the halls for no particular reason, I overheard two noble girls talking.

"Did you hear? Prince Julian and Lady Amiliya are engaged."

Ah. There it is.

The plot development I was dreading.

I sighed. "Of course they are."

And that's when I heard it.

A voice. A familiar, annoying voice.

"Hello there, Leon."

I turned around slowly, like a man about to face his executioner.

And there he was. Prince Julian.

Standing there like he was the main character, exuding "I pay my taxes on time" energy.

And next to him? Amiliya, looking extra smug.

I sighed, already done with this conversation before it even started. "Ah, isn't it a little early to get humiliated?"

Amiliya flipped her hair aggressively. "Watch your mouth, commoner."

Julian chuckled, like I was his personal comedy act.

"You really do have a way with words."

I shrugged. "Hate to disappoint, but I don't make jokes."

Julian's smile sharpened. "I'd like to have a duel with you."

I deadpanned. "Of course you would."

He nodded, still smug as hell. "If you lose, you leave the academy."

I stared at him for a solid three seconds.

Then I sighed.

"And if I win?"

Julian blinked. "…That won't happen."

I snorted. "Okay, but like, hypothetically—"

"It won't happen."

"…But if it DID—"

"It won't."

I grinned. "Sounds like you're scared."

Julian's eye twitched. "Fine. If you win, I'll do whatever you want."

I clapped my hands. "Oh, fantastic! I've always wanted a royal butler."

Julian's smug expression wavered for exactly half a second before he snapped back to confidence mode.

"It won't happen."

I sighed. "Yeah, yeah. I've heard that before."

Julian stepped closer, gaze intense. "So? Do you accept?"

I sighed again. "Well, if I said no, the plot would stall, and we can't have that, now can we?"

Julian smirked. "Then it's settled."

Amiliya looked smugger than ever. "I hope you enjoy your last day here."

I looked her dead in the eye. "I hope you enjoy watching your fiancé get his ass handed to him."

Julian laughed. "Confident. I like that."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, yeah. See you at the duel, Your Highness."

---

[TO BE CONTINUED…]

Next time:

Leon fights a prince.

Someone gets put through a table.

There's probably an explosion.

Stay tuned.