I have approximately two weeks left until the day of Stella's assassination attempt. Everett will do his job becoming a better person, and I can sit back and pull strings from afar.

When I was in my previous life, people I knew always asked me to mediate events. Whether it be an argument or asking someone out, I would usually be involved. The operations would usually be successful, this is because I organized them. Whenever someone messed up, I would just use a backup plan.

A backup plan is always important to have, especially in an important scenario. For example, if you're in a boxing ring and you miss a jab, your opponent has an opportunity for a swift counter. However, if you planned beforehand, you could bait them into a counter and then counter for yourself.

If Everett were to somehow fumble the ball, I could utilize my unlimited knowledge of the human psyche to get him back on track. If Liara were to lose interest, I would make her see more of Everett's good side, not like he has much.

Honestly, if Everett manages to fuck up a plan as perfect as this, he deserves loneliness. Even in the novel, while he was a great friend to Aaron, he had the worst personality imaginable. That dumbass piece of shit bastard tried seducing every member of Aaron's harem and more. This isn't my qualm as I actually admire this trait. The problem is even when he gets a girl to fall for him, he disregards their feelings for other women. This ultimately led to his death at the hands of a high-ranking demon noble who he also seduced. Aaron then killed her for revenge, but the whole situation was on Everett.

"Raine!"

Casey interrupted my internal long-winded tangent about how bad of a person Everett was. He was sitting in the middle of me and Cassandra in class staring at a worksheet with a puzzled expression.

"Raine, what exactly does this mean?"

He pointed to a mathematical equation on the paper that looked like an average math question. Wait a minute, what the hell? I look at the question number and see that it's the last question on his paper. I quickly scan the rest of the questions and saw that he had answered all of them correctly.

"You answered the rest of the questions correctly?" I tilt my head a bit, "That's quite impressive."

"Yeah! It was easy after you explained it to me so many times."

I try to hide the shock on my face. While this isn't an impressive feat at all, compared to Casey from the novel, it's downright groundbreaking. I looked back at the problem and began walking him through it, step by step.

"Ah, thanks, Raine."

"It's no problem."

Casey looked bashful as he thanked me. He quickly picked up his paper and went to deliver it to Sophie. He and Sophie began speaking to each other, presumably about his progress, which left Cassandra and me alone.

"Thank you, Raine."

"Hmm?" I turned to see Cassandra writing on one of her many worksheets. She seemed to have two stacks of about thirty pages each sitting next to her. She must be studying extremely hard. I wanted to ask her what she was talking about, but she started speaking before I could open my mouth.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

"Casey would always become frustrated when he worked on the class assignments and it used to drive me crazy. But in the past couple months, he has been studying diligently. He has been acting out a lot less too, and it's thanks to you, Raine."

"Me?"

While I have been tutoring Casey for around two months, I didn't think that I was making huge waves. In the novel, Casey was someone who had an incredibly hard time learning a new concept, especially if it was academic. I was surprised to see such impressive results in a short period. However, this is mostly due to his young brain still developing and not me.

"Cassandra, while I did contribute to his initial learning, the rest has been entirely Casey's doing. You have no need to thank me."

"..."

Cassandra didn't say anything else, she simply nodded and went back to her work. I shrugged and put my head back down. I was so unfathomably bored. Having to relive the younger years of my life with full consciousness is excruciating. I sighed and looked over to see what lesson Cassandra was on.

"What are you doing!" She exclaimed as she pulls the paper away from me.

"Woah calm down, I just wanna see what you're working on."

"It's none of your business, so back off!"

Damn. I thought we had grown closer in the past couple of days, but she's still quite bitchy. Oh well, I suppose there's no rush in changing her. I still have plenty more years to work on her annoying attitude.

I turned away from her and placed my head back on my desk. I felt my eyes get heavier as my vision grew increasingly blurry. I closed my eyes and felt my consciousness slowly drift off.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Jason."

"..."

"Jason."

"Huh?"

As I lay my head upon the cold, hard floor, I felt the rough hand of someone nudging my shoulder. I slowly raised my head and opened my eyes. I looked around the room I was in while half asleep. It was an empty room that was only filled with white. I continued looking around until my eyes finally settled upon the silhouette of a person. I looked up to see a tall man wearing dark clothing and a black long coat with a red lining. His head was covered with a smooth black helmet with a vertical red line down the center.

The man stared down at me from my left side. His arms were folded and his gaze emitted immense pressure that made it hard to focus. Perhaps he took notice of this because the pressure had dropped considerably after that.

"Jason North, right?"

"No, ah, I mean yes, hold on a bit", I raised my hand to rub my head, "I'm sorry, who are you?"

He spoke in a semi-computerized voice that sounded similar to an echo. The man stood up straight and unfolded his arms and I saw that he wore black gloves on his hands. He raised one of his hands and pointed toward me. The gloves looked as though they had wires running from the knuckles to the fingertips. I noticed that one of the gloves had an unusual image that looked like many spheres within a larger sphere printed on the back.

"The names Mitchell, and you're the one that Author-person had reincarnated without permission. It took me a bit of time tracking down your soul while searching through so many universes."

Mitchell, as he called himself, spoke of searching through universes as if it were a trivial matter. Just who on earth is this person?

"I can see that you're a bit confused, that's understandable. Right now, your soul is being held by me in this space, which is just outside of your current universe."

"Huh? You're saying that I'm not in my body?"

I looked down at my hands. They were the hands of a young adult man. Mitchell waved his hand and a mirror spawned out of nowhere. He pointed to it and without hesitation, I rushed to look at myself. I was completely nude, my face and body had been the same as when I was in my previous world. My short, silky black hair shone while my bangs hung just above my crimson eyes. I stared at my pale and slender, yet muscular body; chiseled from years of exercise.

Damn! I just realized this now, but I was fuckin hot! I began to grin as I continued downward. When I reached my lower portions, my smile immediately faded and turned into a frown. I had lost all confidence I had previously and looked away from the mirror, embarrassed.

"Womp womp. That's a shame for such an absolute specimen of a man, lol."

"Shaddap, who even are you?"

I couldn't tell, but I was damned certain that he had a smug face beneath his helmet. In my anger and disappointment, I huffed out the same question I had asked him earlier. He simply waved away the mirror and spoke calmly once more.

"I told you already. My name's Mitchell, Mitchell Scards."

"I know that but what exactly are you?"

I had no idea who this man in front of me was at all. I had never even heard of the name 'Mitchell Scards' in the novel. For the first time in my new life, I met a powerful being that had never been mentioned before at all. His very existence was a mystery to me and a threat to my very existence.

Mitchell simply stared at me and took a step back to think about the question. After a moment of thought, Mitchell looked like he came upon an answer. He looked at me with a finger up as if he had just thought of something and began speaking.

"Well, I suppose I'm filling in for the god of this world."

"Huh? What does that mean?"

Mitchell looked at me once more, this time, I could feel his grin through the pitch-black helmet. He stood with his hands on his hips. His next words left me in complete and utter disbelief.

"It means", He paused a moment before completing his sentence, "I am a god, boy."