The Transmigrated Author

[Location: ??? - Darkworld, Sifter's Organization Base]

Vladimir ran a hand through his hair, a frown etching lines across his face.

"So... you're sending Jasper to accompany the experiment?"

Cyran nodded, a wide, almost manic grin spreading across his face.

"Yes! Perfect choice, really! Great opportunity..."

He trailed off, seeming to search for the right words.

Vladimir gave him a knowing look.

"Isn't he the one who failed to acquire the Stone of Light?"

Cyran let out a bark of laughter.

"Correct! But failure is... uh... stepping stone! Yes! To success!"

He punctuated the statement with a vigorous fist pump.

Vladimir narrowed his eyes. "Okay... just make sure he and the… subject…" he paused, his distaste evident, "arrive at the appointed location and time."

"Absolutely!" Cyran chirped, giving a mock salute. "Won't let you down! Promise!"

Vladimir shook his head with a weary sigh and turned to leave. Just as he reached the door, he paused. "And Cyran?"

"Yes?" Cyran said, tilting his head with exaggerated curiosity.

"Try to keep things... contained, this time,"

Vladimir said, his voice sharp, before disappearing into the shadowy corridors.

Cyran smiled, waving a cheerful goodbye to Vladimir's retreating back. Then, his head tilted as if listening to an unseen voice. "What should I do now...?"

He snapped his fingers, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Got it!"

Click!

...

...

...

An instant later, Cyran vanished, reappearing with a slight pop behind Jasper.

The unsuspecting man was crouched in the workshop, a broken drone clutched in his hands. ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm

"How can I fix this..." Jasper muttered, squinting at the damaged circuitry.

"Jasper!" Cyran screamed.

"AH!"

Jasper shrieked, startled. He whipped around to find his boss standing inches away and immediately dropped into a kneeling bow.

"B-boss!"

Cyran tilted his head, a puzzled expression on his face.

Then he pointed at Jasper dramatically. "Mission! Two days!" He paused, struggling to find the right words. "With experiment!"

Jasper nodded frantically. "Yes, yes! Whatever it is, I'll do it."

"Good!" Cyran chirped, "Now, experiment…" he trailed off, his brow furrowing, "...here tomorrow, maybe? Morwen coming today! To... to talk to you!"

"Yes… sir…" Jasper gulped, the mention of Morwen sending a shiver down his spine.

***

{Rel's POV}

[Paris, H?tel Plaza Athénée - Top floor - Room: 2# - Bedrooms]

[Saturday, 9:44 AM]

BANG!, BANG!, BANG!,

"Rellllll!"

Pounding on the door woke Rel from his sleep.

He groaned, fumbling for the blankets as Jan's voice filtered through the fog of drowsiness.

"Rel! Get up! We're heading to the arena today!"

Rel's eyes fluttered open, the room still swimming in dim light. He yawned, a long, mournful sound, and muttered to himself, "Can't I just sleep a few more hours…?"

Resigned to his fate, Rel pulled himself out of bed.

He dressed quickly, layering on thick winter clothing against the chill of the freezing morning.

A splash of cold water on his face did little to shake the lingering dregs of sleep.

With a final sigh, he shuffled out the door, blinking against the sudden brightness of the day. Jan and Bazz waited impatiently, already buzzing with excitement.

...

...

...

[Paris, Champs-élysées - Dawn's Blade Arena, Outside]

Reaching the Champs-élysées, the central hub of Paris, took surprisingly little time. I hadn't expected Dawn's Blade Arena to be located here – a prime location, for sure, but it felt a bit... obvious.

The Uber ride took about half an hour, though I'd dozed off for most of it. Still, the scene felt familiar, reminding me of the arena back in Australia.

It still had the same blacksmith stands boasting their latest works, then there was the dodgy scammers offering questionable upgrades, and the usual bustle of restaurants and cafes.

"Say, Rel," Jan's voice broke into my thoughts,

"Is this your first time here? Also, are you into fashion?"

I blinked, caught off guard.

He still wouldn't stop bugging me about my wardrobe...

I only dressed for the Parisian chill - I didn't even mean to look this way.

It made me wonder if it looked bad on me.

"No," I said, shivering slightly despite the sun. "Don't you feel it? It's freezing."

Jan chuckled.

"You could channel your mana, keep yourself warm. Isn't that easy for a genius like you?"

"Too much effort," I grumbled. "Not worth it this early."

"Heh, if you say so." He flashed me a grin. "Guess I jumped the gun on the fashion thing. Glad you don't know, anyway."

"Don't know what?" I frowned, suspicion gnawing at me.

"Don't worry about it!" Jan chirped, already changing the subject. "Now, let's get going, shall we?"

***

The closer they drew to Dawn's Blade Arena, the harder it was to miss the twinkle in Jan's eye.

He nudged Rel, a playful grin on his face.

"Man, I can't wait to see the look on your face today!"

Rel blinked, a crease appearing between his brows.

What did Jan have up his sleeve? His own attire was practical as ever, driven by comfort, not style.

He wasn't easily swept up in enthusiasm, but even he couldn't deny the curiosity Jan had sparked.

"You're perfectly dressed for it, too!" Jan added, his voice bright. "I just can't believe it!"

Bazz, focused on his own agenda, interrupted.

"So, which leagues are we watching today? Any rising stars we should keep an eye on?"

"Let's get everyone settled first," Jan said, a secretive spark in his eyes.

Bazz chuckled, his own hopes fixated on a different kind of rising star.

"Today might be the day we finally spot Aurelia in action! Maybe she's fighting under a hidden name... gotta keep our eyes peeled!"

As they reached the grand gates of the arena, a figure stood by the bridge, an air of stillness about her.

Sunlight reflected off blonde hair tied back in a neat bun. As their group drew closer, Valencia turned.

Her winter dress was striking – black silk flowing over her form, accented by crisp white cuffs and a delicate white collar.

The stark contrast mirrored her reserved demeanor, creating an impression of quiet elegance.

Jan's grin nearly split his face as they approached Valencia.

"Well, well, look who's here!"

He practically radiated smug satisfaction, which only deepened Rel's sense of unease.

He'd always found Jan's cheerfulness a bit overbearing, but this felt... pointed.

Valencia didn't smile back. Instead, her gaze swept over Rel, a flicker of something like distaste marring her otherwise composed expression.

A familiar unease settled over him.

He was always careful around her – one misplaced word or action could set her off, and he never quite understood why.

"Remember our little wager?" Jan asked, tilting his head with a playful air.

Valencia let out a soft huff, her posture stiffening slightly. "Unfortunately."

Jan gave Rel a quick, encouraging nudge that felt entirely too conspicuous.

"See? It'll be fun! Besides," he added, lowering his voice so only Rel could hear, "it's about time you two spent some quality time together." He winked, and Rel's face twisted in disgust.

Valencia's gaze bore into him, sharp enough to cut steel. For a heart-stopping moment, he thought a scathing remark was imminent, but then Bazz's excited shout shattered the tension.

"Look!" Bazz pointed enthusiastically at the arena's display board. "The matchups for the lower leagues are posted!"

As they started towards the arena entrance, Valencia abruptly pulled Jan back, her fingers tightening on his collar.

"Hold on a second," she snapped, her voice low.

"I knew there was something fishy when you invited me here... What are you planning Jan?" A flicker of anger marred her usually composed features.

Jan blinked, his grin faltering slightly.

"N-nothing! There are some really promising fighters in the leagues today. I thought you liked that sort of thing..."

He trailed off, trying to maintain his innocent act.

Valencia narrowed her eyes but released her grip, a sigh escaping her.

A memory flickered in her eyes – a glimpse of a younger Jan excitedly recalling his first arena experience back when they were students at the prep academy.

"Don't try that with me, Jan," she warned, her voice laced with a hint of begrudging fondness.

"You know I hate when you get all secretive."

Jan let out a sheepish laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Okay, okay... maybe I had another reason for inviting you,"

He admitted, a glint returning to his eyes.

"But it'll be worth it, I promise!"

Rel glanced back, catching sight of Valencia's hand on Jan's collar, her expression hidden from his view.

A familiar pang of unease washed over him – he already knew the subject of their conversation.

Valencia's dislike for him was no secret.

With a sigh, he turned back around, the words escaping his lips before he could stop them.

"I hate this MC," he muttered, the bitterness in his voice surprising even himself.

_________________

Authors Notes:

- Normal spars with swords always has a hidden rule that no aura or elemental attributes aren't allowed. Jan broke this rule during their spar.

- Valencia could've easily left the building but due to her nobility, she sticks by her word and promises.