Chapter 7: Who the Hell Knows?!

The scene fell into a prolonged silence.

An Luo coughed awkwardly a few times and said in a low voice, “I never thought I’d end up in the world of my own novel. It’s just too unrealistic.”

As a liberal arts major, whenever An Luo described knowledge about the wizard world in his writing, he always did so indirectly.

After all, he didn’t have the ability to depict it directly.

He could only grit his teeth, pull some academic books, and clumsily imitate them, transplanting a few theories into the story using simplified language.

Pretending to be all profound and mysterious.

It was web fiction, after all, not an academic paper, so this kind of content took up little space.

He only needed to describe it when the protagonist was studying, then focus on the face-slapping and power-ups otherwise.

He never imagined that this novel world would come with a complete, detailed theoretical system!

It was like if he bullshitted that the protagonist had mastered controlled nuclear fusion, grabbed some theory books, and shoehorned bits into the novel as side descriptions—then transmigrated in and found out it was actually true.

Then the protagonist asked if there were any errors in the current theories and if he could clarify them.

Who the hell knew?!

He’d made it all up.

He hadn’t expected it to become real when he wrote it!

Even the author’s own knowledge level didn’t reach that height!

Meieruita offered no comment. He turned to the next page and said calmly, “Let’s continue.”

An Luo agreed and resumed the mechanical recitation.

Meieruita had strong self-learning ability and good memory, but he wasn’t photographic. Every few pages, he needed to pause and commit each term to memory.

During this time, An Luo’s appearance continued to change at a steady pace.

His golden hair gradually darkened until it became crow-feather black, and his features slowly shifted to match An Luo’s own.

It wasn’t just his face; the rest of his body transformed as well.

Lan Lian had been set as a Westerner with a large build, a noble young master with ample nutrition, so he was quite robust.

After all, someone who frequently rode horses, hunted, and whipped servants with a riding crop wouldn’t lack muscle.

An Luo had grown up in the modern era with no shortage of nutrition. His height stayed about the same, but his frame slimmed down considerably.

Standing there, he looked like a typical unhealthy Earth shut-in.

The only upside was that his ability to pull all-nighters seemed to have returned… if that could even be called an upside…

By evening, his body had fully transformed to match his real-world self exactly.

As his soul completely assimilated with the body, the faint, almost imperceptible sluggishness vanished.

This body was now perfectly fused with An Luo’s soul.

An Luo looked in the mirror. The familiar face offered some comfort, but it also meant big trouble.

If someone noticed his changes and reported it to a wizard… he was done for. He’d definitely end up sliced and diced.

He needed a way to cover it up.

But how?

As An Luo stared into the mirror, Meieruita observed him.

An Luo’s true appearance differed greatly from Lan Lian’s.

To use a metaphor, in Meieruita’s eyes, it was like a vicious dog turning into a lamb.

A pure white lamb kneeling at the Goddess’s feet in the church—innocent, soft, fragile, unable to survive alone.

Venture into the wild without protection, and its throat would be torn out in less than a day.

The once-fitted wizard robe now hung loose and baggy on his shoulders.

Meieruita watched An Luo and suddenly asked, “You said you never thought you’d come to this world. So how did you get here?”

“I don’t know,” An Luo replied. “I was on my way home, dozed off midway, and woke up here.”

“It’s strange.” An Luo recalled Lan Lian’s premature death. “When I arrived, I got Lan Lian’s memories. He died from some curse. But according to the plot, he shouldn’t have died so early.”

A dark glint flashed in Meieruita’s eyes at An Luo’s words.

“Not strange,” he said calmly. “The Wizard Tower forbids wizard apprentices from killing each other, but as long as it’s not caught in the open, it’s fine.”

“There are plenty of noble wizard apprentices in the Wizard Tower about to exhaust their gold coins. Once their wealth runs dry, they have to take high-risk tasks to earn contribution points and survive. Lan Lian was too flashy and free-spending; it’s normal for him to be targeted.”

An Luo got it.

As mentioned before, Wizard Tower apprentices fell into two categories. Noble-born ones were mainly for burning gold.

But gold always runs out. Once these nobles spent all their coins, with no more family support, and no advancement to higher apprentice or passing exams, they had to take dangerous tasks like commoner apprentices to earn contribution points.

Simple logic: pay-to-win first, then pay-with-life when the gold’s gone. No life left? Bye-bye.

So, some gold-poor veteran apprentice must have eyed Lan Lian, the rich dog?

It made logical sense, but the problem was, this deviated from the plot!

Could it be that since this became a real world, his original plot was just an outline, and the world developed dynamically around it?

“I suggest you don’t worry about long-term issues,” Meieruita interrupted An Luo’s thoughts. “Right now, consider that a veteran wizard apprentice has targeted you. If one curse fails, he’ll likely try again.”

An Luo: “…Makes sense.”

His face went wooden.

Forced transmigration was one thing, but into his own novel, surrounded by crises.

First, his fragile alliance with the protagonist could shatter anytime. Once Meieruita squeezed out his value, he’d want him dead.

Second, the soul’s influence turned Lan Lian’s appearance into An Luo’s. Discovery meant wizard dissection.

Now, a broke veteran apprentice was gunning for him to loot his gold.

Wasn’t he the author? This was his world!

Why was he so screwed?

An Luo: “…I want to go home.”

He was wrong. Truly wrong.

Happiness was all relative.

If he could go home, he’d gladly work overtime like an ox every day!

Seeing An Luo on the verge of breaking down, Meieruita proposed, “If you’re willing, I’d like to move in with you.”

“We have an agreement. I haven’t mastered any witchcraft yet, but if he tries again, two people are better than one, right?”

An Luo felt like he’d been pardoned.

The protagonist was dangerous, but he still had use value; Meieruita wouldn’t act now.

Living together might let him borrow some protagonist halo!

Meieruita wasn’t the type to jinx those around him. He was reliable.

Way safer than living alone.

He agreed without hesitation. “Sounds great!”

“Move in quick!”

The faint wariness in An Luo’s eyes vanished completely, replaced by welcome and anticipation.

Meieruita smiled enigmatically. “Thanks. I don’t have much stuff; it’ll be quick.”

The protagonist’s belongings were minimal; one trip and he was moved in.

A threat lurked in the shadows, leaving An Luo uneasy, but with Meieruita there, thinking of the protagonist halo, he relaxed a bit.

An Luo glanced out the small window. He saw nothing useful.

He knew moon phases and position could tell time, but that was it.

Put him to the test, and he’d be clueless.

Meieruita glanced outside. “It’s about seven in the evening now.”

Time for dinner. An Luo was getting hungry too.

The most “popular” food among wizard apprentices was black bread.

Tasteless and hard as rock, but cheap and easy.

Many noble apprentices, funds tight, resorted to this food they’d once scorned.

But even with money, options were basically white bread.

Still hard; needed toasting and soaking to chew.

Luxurious? Dip in honey or jam.

Lan Lian was rich, so white bread with a jar of jam.

Why not cook? Nobles couldn’t; commoners had no time.

And with this world’s abysmal cooking, even trying yielded nothing good.

The world’s prototype was medieval West, after all.

An Luo had eaten white bread for lunch.

Luxurious by standards, but still awful to him.

Dinner too.

He sighed, opened the food cabinet, took out two white loaves, and gave one to Meieruita.

After some prep, they fished them out of bowls with grim determination.

Meieruita had brought his black bread stores, but since An Luo shared, he accepted.

He tried white bread for the first time that day. Compared to black, it was a delicacy, though An Luo seemed dissatisfied.

Observing, Meieruita noted An Luo shared not to flatter, but casually, as if food wasn’t precious.

Even white bread was ordinary, almost inferior to him.

Shared without thought.

“Were you a noble before coming here?” Meieruita asked.

“Hm?” An Luo shook his head. “No.”

He started to explain but stopped.

Transmigration was real; what if Meieruita got curious about Earth? Become top wizard by endgame and visit?

Turn Earth into his resource farm?

Nah.

He mumbled vaguely, “I’m just an ordinary guy. Nothing special.”

“Mm.” Meieruita didn’t press.

An Luo wasn’t lying, but Meieruita didn’t buy it.

Soul assimilation made his skin smoother than a girl’s, hands callus-free except a prominent one on his right middle finger—clearly from long-term writing.

Compared to Lan Lian, An Luo seemed delicate and frail.

Such pretty, slender looks were what big-city nobles chased. Lan Lian tried imitating but always looked awkward.

An Luo was picky with food too.

Meieruita recalled: “I was on my way home, dozed off, and ended up here.”

Dozing on the road meant a vehicle, not as driver.

No worries about lost items, quiet surroundings.

Not a commoner’s ox cart or rickety wagon—must be private carriage.

Smooth roads too; bumpy rides weren’t for sleeping.

All signs pointed to noble birth, from prosperous lands.

But contradictions: nobles scorned commoners innately, acted superior.

An Luo didn’t.

Maybe because Meieruita, though commoner, was the “protagonist” An Luo wrote, and he saw himself as Meieruita’s “father,” so different treatment?

Meieruita knew how to handle nobles.

Play it right, and he could extract more from An Luo.

“I’d like some jam, if possible?”

“Sure, I’ll grab it.”

As An Luo turned away, Meieruita raised a brow in slight surprise.