Eiden Millwynd, an orphaned child, your average beggar next to the bakery down the street.

He spent most of his childhood sleeping on cardboard sheets under streetlights, scavenging scraps and dodging thugs. It wasn’t until his older cousin found him, barely ten and freezing under a bridge, that he moved into a run-down apartment with cracked walls, leaking pipes, and a window that refused to shut. But it was home.

Despite everything, Eiden dragged himself through high school. Top of the class. Discipline forged in hardship. But excellence didn’t matter when you couldn’t afford tuition. No college, scholarships that have only been offered to the rich—and the sickening feeling of reality. So he worked.

He’d spend most of his waking hours working as a construction worker, and worked part time as a mechanic just to make ends meet. And then, at midnight, when the city was asleep, he finally let his passion frow—drawing panel after panel for “Second Chance: World's Strongest Hero”, the novel that his cousin bought for his 17^th birthday, it was his favorite novel. He was happy to be given the opportunity to adapt it and bring its world to life with his own hands by a small studio, who didn’t pay him much—but it was enough for him.

But one fateful night, after finishing panel 3 of chapter 237, his head dropped. He was just going to blink for a second.

Then—black.

And then—THUD!

Pain.

His back ached. His elbow stung.

He blinked, confused by the polished marble tiles and lavish golden doors at least two stories tall, towering behind him. The half-shattered bottle in his hand reeked of wine. What the hell?

Voices.

"Lord Victor, Lady Jane… we tried to hold him down all night, but it was no use… Master Leilyn is out on the porch again."

Footsteps thundered. Two regal figures appeared—stiff posture, silk sleepwear.

“Leilyn, get a hold of yourself!... What were you thinking?” a woman with short curled, black-purple faded hair, scolded as she checked if he was injured. It was Countess Jane Saphyre, his mother of this world… apparently .

“When will you grow up! Do you have any idea what people will say about this family?!” a man with dark red-ish hazel colored hair yelled followed by a frowning disappointed look on his face. “Why did I even bother to ask…”

Leilyn?

Eiden’s mouth opened, but no words came. His heart pounded. His eyes darted. His brain screamed:

Where the hell am I?!

He scrambled up, staring at his clothes—embroidered silk and noble crests. The mansion around him looked like it cost more than every dollar he’d ever seen.

This isn’t… this isn’t my apartment…

“What—what is this? Is this a prank? Did I get kidnapped?!” he stammered. “Okay, okay, I’m gonna wake up. Any minute now. Haha—very funny, brain.”

He punched himself in the face. Nothing.

Another slap. Still here.

He stared at the stunned nobles before him.

“Oh no… this was not what I expected for a Tuesday morning…”