No… that can't be right.

Right?

But still… the more I thought about it, the more plausible it seemed.

The Heavenly Principles didn't exactly strike me as the type to show me some random A.S.S. member possessing an annoying idiot just for entertainment.

There had to be a reason. A deeper link.

Like, what if this fucker was like me?

What if he was another transmigrator?

I mean, I wasn't one of those dumb protagonists

who spend three hundred chapters pretending reincarnation and transmigration doesn't exist until someone spells it out for them.

I always considered the possibilities and this one made sense.

What if he was from the same world as me?

What if he knew about the scroll from there and that's why the Heavenly Principles tried to warn me about the interference?

The theory sounded far-fetched, sure… But then again, so did the first idiot who said the earth was round when everyone was busy worshipping flat maps.

Still, this theory had one glaring hole.

Why the hell would someone willingly let an A.S.S. member possess them if they had read the novel?

That's not bold, that's brain-dead.

But then… there was one concrete possibility that filled even that hole.

The game.

What if the transmigrator never read the novel…

and instead, they had played the game I created based on it?

That would explain everything, the incantation, the scroll and the dumb decision-making.

They weren't following the original story.

They were following the fake one I crafted.

The game followed the story closely at the beginning part and the plot only diverged afterwards… so the possibility of him thinking it was a world based on the game was high.

Well, the theory seemed far-fetched but made sense… but who cares, really?

I mean, transmigrator or not… this bastard was going to die.

So, why bother thinking about his roots, right?

Still, if my theory was correct… this bastard had to be killed as soon as possible.

Because if he really knew about the other world, then once that A.S.S. member finished taking over,

it would know too.

And that… would be a cosmic-level disaster.

Right now, though, the possession wasn't complete. I could tell just by the way it walked—unsteady, uneven and like a snail.

Which meant I still had time.

Not much, but enough to end this before things got truly apocalyptic.

"Bearlo," I called, my eyes never leaving the shadowed figure ahead. "What's the damage?"

"I have one fracture and have lost a lot of blood," Bearlo replied, his tone calm as ever. "But I took a healing potion a few minutes ago. It should start taking effect soon. So, I can fight."

"Good," I muttered. "I will distract him… you go behind and get healed by Seraphina before joining me."

The bastard was walking slower than a snail right now, mostly because it didn't feel any threat.

But the moment I attacked… the two wills inside, the human and the A.S.S. parasite, would stop fighting each other and focus entirely on me.

Then, once I was dead, they would go right back to tearing each other apart.

Typical.

In the novel, this particular A.S.S. member had been an Elf.

Yes, those ungrateful bastards with a superiority complex that could put dragons to shame.

A.S.S., or Allied Sovereign Species was a pompous little coalition of races from worlds outside Nytharra, a bunch of self-proclaimed "higher beings" who thought this world were their personal playground.

And naturally, how could there not be a few of those insufferable elven fuckers in there?

Because of course the galaxy needed more creatures who looked down on everyone else while doing absolutely nothing productive.

But unlike in other stories, where Elves are all ethereal beauty, long legs and tragic grace, this world had decided to be mercifully honest.

Here, Elves were ugly.

Short, with overgrown heads, ears longer than their skulls and hair so thin you could count each strand like a limited edition.

So yeah, if some harem protagonist ever spawned in this world, he would have exactly zero elven waifus. Unless, of course, he was one of those "inner beauty" guys, you know, the type with a heart of gold and absolutely zero sense of understanding.

But even then, he would still be out of luck. Because these creatures were even more disgusting inside than they looked on the outside.

For some reason, their entire species had a twisted obsession with humans… not admiration, not curiosity… but experimentation.

And when I say "experiments," I don't mean the lab coat kind. I mean the kind that made breeding part of the research process.

Yeah. That was an actual thing.

In the novel, there was this one poor bastard who got captured and married off to an elven noble as a slave.

He died while somehow giving birth to her child.

And yes… he was a guy.

So, yeah, any hate against their kind was justified.

Hell, if I was ever handed some ridiculous god-tier power to wipe a race clean off this world,

I would pick those pointy-eared bastards without hesitation.

No moral dilemma or second thoughts.

Just one glorious, world-saving genocide.

Those smug, self-righteous freaks were annoying enough as it was.

In any case, now wasn't exactly the perfect time to be racist. But still, him being an Elf was an important piece of information.

Within the whole illustrious A.S.S., Elves were the ones who specialized in curses, rituals and all sorts of weird mystical bullshit.

Even their Nexus's signified that.

And this particular fucker was no different.

But—womp womp—bad luck for this disgusting bastard.

I was immune to that crap with my Myths and all.

Still, they had other ways to be annoying.

I looked at the bastard.

His shadowy, warped form had gone completely still as calm as a dead lake.

Those twisted eyes locked onto me and I could feel it, that thing could sense my hatred.

My killing intent.

And then…

"GIVE ME YOUR DICK!"

The fucker screamed and charged straight at me.

—

Author's Note:

Sorry in advance to any Elf fans out there 😅 — nothing personal! Just pure and equal-opportunity worldbuilding slander 😂

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