How It Began

I wake up feeling incredibly weak. No matter how much I think about it, a human body shouldn't be this weak. Every time I walk, my bones cry out in pain. By now, all the people are gone. Moving in this body is just too painful.

"Ugh... why a beggar of all things? I can barely raise a finger. Why must I suffer like this? I swear to god, couldn't I at least get a bed?" I mutter.

"Hey, look! That kid's gone insane!" a voice shouts.

Turning my head, I see a group of about five drunks approaching me. Just by their looks, you can tell they're totally drunk, and damn, they reek of alcohol.

"Hey, kid, get off your high horse, WaKe Up To ReAlItY BUUUURRRPP!!" one of them hollers.

"Can you step back a bit? Your breath smells like crap," I retort.

"Huh? What did you say to me, you little shit?" he snarls.

"I said your breath smells like crap," I repeat, trying to sound as tough as I could. The drunks laugh, malice evident in their eyes.

"Listen here, you little beggar," one of them slurs. "You don't talk to us like that. We're the ones in charge here."

I can feel my heart beating faster, adrenaline starting to pump. I know that I'm no match for these guys, but I refuse to back down. "I don't care who you are," I say, my voice now shaking slightly. "You're not gonna lecture me when you smell like shit." The drunks close in on me, and I can feel their hot breath on my face.

"We're going to teach you a lesson, kid," one of them says, raising his fist.

I close my eyes, bracing for impact. But the punch never comes. Instead, I feel a sharp pain in the back of my head, and everything goes black. When I come to, I'm lying on the ground, my head throbbing with pain.

The drunks are gone, and I'm alone once again. I groan, trying to sit up, but the pain is too much. I feel defeated, like I'm destined to suffer in this body. I lie on the ground looking up at the sky, feeling like I don't belong here.

And then I see it.

"Dammit..." I mutter. I recognize what that is, but where the hell am I? No, more importantly, why the hell am I here? I've been so exhausted that I haven't paid much attention to my surroundings. I know I'm in someone else's body, but I haven't given much thought regarding anything else.

Painfully stretching my arms out, I gaze at the sky. It's a griffin, but this was no ordinary griffin. It's the kind of griffin I had described in the novel I wrote as a kid. The griffins in my story weren't typical creatures. They were magical beings with unique features that changed as they grew older.

This particular griffin had golden brown fur with a similar shade on its wings, large enough to cover its entire body. Around its head were pure white feathers that slowly turn gold as they run down its back to its golden fur, adding to its regal appearance.

As I watch it fly across the sky, I'm struck by its beauty. But what makes these creatures even more remarkable is how their features change as they grow older. Young griffins have brown fur and feathers, but as they develop, the color of their feathers and fur changes.

The color of the fur depends on their species. The ones with white fur are considered the fastest, while the ones with golden fur have a longer lifespan. The ones with brown fur are the most basic and considered the weakest, while the strongest and rarest are the ones with black fur.

The griffins also have a set row of feathers starting at the top of their head and running down to the tip of their wings. These feathers are larger than normal ones, and the colors of those feathers vary depending on each individual griffin's magic affinity. This makes them even more unique, and their feathers are highly coveted by many.

Only brown griffins have front feet resembling those of a bird, while white, black, and gold griffins have cat-like bodies, with the head and wings being the exception. These features make them agile and able to fly at high speeds, while also giving them the strength to take down prey much larger than themselves.

As I contemplate the griffin, it suddenly falls. "Tsk," I mutter, "poor guy, they've already killed him." It was most likely in the south district.

"This is my world, the world I wrote in my novel," I murmur. If I'm correct, I'm in the slums of the capital city of ‘Aurelia’.

Griffins aren't normally aggressive; they prefer to live in the mountains. I guess the knights have already stolen all the griffin eggs in the mountains. The kingdom wants to domesticate griffins for air travel, but that plan fails miserably. Griffins aren't meant to be domesticated; they get easily agitated and detest being tied up.

The problem with this world is that air travel can't be created. I designed it this way, and most characters are aware of why it wouldn't work. In the atmosphere, there's an unstable amount of energy, and this energy creates unusual storms and weather patterns. Creatures such as griffins, dragons, and other flying beasts can detect incoming storms.

That's why humans have been experimenting on creatures like griffins and trying to domesticate them. In the future, there will be an accident where the griffins break out and cause chaos.

Seeing that there aren't any other griffins, this group was already killed off.

As I lie on the ground, still irritated by the fact that I'm stuck in my novel, I suddenly notice something in front of me. It's a dark blue screen that seems to project out of thin air, displaying white text. The screen hovers in the air, unnoticed by anyone else. It feels like my own private interface.

Curiosity gets the better of me, so I reach out to touch the screen. To my surprise, the text changes as soon as I touch it. It now reads [status window] in bold letters. As I focus on the words, the screen shifts to show a plethora of stats and information about my body.

The 'physique' stat immediately catches my eye. Instead of the expected 'human physique', it reads [Cursed physique]. No wonder I feel so weak and helpless.

As I continue to peruse the status window, I realize that I can hear a voice in my head. It's not really a voice, more a projection of text, but it's clear and concise.

[The system greets you], the text reads.

[Connecting to the host, please wait]

I can't believe it. This feels like something out of a game. But as I look around and see the harsh reality of the world I'm in, I realize that I'll need all the help I can get.

[Connection Established]

The system doesn't speak to me directly, but projects text that only I can see. It's quite vague, which is frustrating.

I wonder how I can use this system to my advantage. The text on the screen seems more like an interactive guide, and I can't interact with it as I would with a game controller.

That's when I notice the [tasks and missions] window. This is something I'm more familiar with, and it gives me a sense of purpose.

The system will give me tasks and missions to complete, and I can earn points based on the difficulty of the task. These points can be exchanged for things such as affinities to magic weapons, swordsmanship techniques, as well as a vast selection of skills.

But the tasks and missions aren't just handed out; I'll need to progress the main story of the novel to unlock more of them. It seems like it wants me to engage directly in the main story.

As I continue to explore the system, I can't help but feel annoyed by the text projections. The system has a personality, and it teases me at every turn.

[You're seriously still a beggar, Lmao ꉂ (´∀｀)ʱªʱªʱª], the text reads, making my blood boil.

"What the hell is this?" I shout at the system, and it responds with more teasing.

[You're pretty feisty, huh? I like that. Maybe I'll give you a mission. Hmmm... How about you go slap a knight in the face for 100 points ಥﭛಥ]

I can't deny that it's a helpful tool, and it might just be the key to getting stronger in this chaotic world. Seriously though, why does it respond back like this?

The system has many interesting features I wouldn't have expected. After playing around with it a bit, I find out why I feel so weak. The [cursed physique] is all to blame.

[Cursed physique]-[Curse-★★★★★☆]-[Limits skill slot capacity to 4]-[Weakens all bones by 35%]-[Increases energy waste by 80%]-[Increases damage taken by mental attacks by 75%]

Why the hell did I get a cursed physique? No, how did Brey get a cursed physique? You cannot be born with a curse, because curses are not natural; they are a byproduct of experiments with OAS magic, meaning you can't naturally be born with a curse. This implies that Brey isn't just some random kid. Who the hell is he connected to?

Forget it, I'm going to get a headache if I think about it anymore. The biggest problem with this curse is the [energy waste]. Damn it, everything uses energy. Energy can be viewed as the source of power within my novel.

Everything is created with energy; there are multiple forms of energy, but they are created from the same source and aren't limited by any sort of physics. In terms of magic, each person has a different amount of energy waste; when someone casts a spell or incantation, some mana escapes, the more mana that escapes, the less talented you're considered, and that applies to aura as well.

Since it's a five-star curse, I can't get it removed at any temple unless the saintess herself has a look, but dealing with a five-star curse is expensive and might take years before the removal process is complete.

Another problem is that I'm limited to four skills, which doesn't pose much of a threat. However, if I need to replace a skill, all of my pain receptors will react, just thinking about it gives me chills.