Professor Ola heard what Colin said. Loud and clear.

For a moment, he had this strong urge to ask the question "Are you sure?" But he already knew the answer. Colin was a man of his word; he was always sure.

Without another word, he stood up and strode out of his office. He needed to see this for himself. Right now.

A 5.0 potential rating wasn’t just about one level higher than 4. It wasn’t a simple, incremental increase. It was an entirely different concept.

Sigurd’s potential rated level 4.3 because 4.3 was the best he could reach. BaiYun's potential rated level 5.0 because 5.0 was the best the measuring instrument could reach.

Level 5.0 meant "immeasurable."

However, BaiYun had no idea that he had just caused a stir. He was too busy feeling embarrassed, convinced that his so-called "system" had just played him like a fool—again.

"For the love of God..." BaiYun could do nothing but convey his frustrated anger. Thinking back, from the very first moment he encountered this system, he had a feeling—it was an absolute arsehole.

Five days ago, BaiYun woke up in the middle of a ruined village, the air thick with the metallic scent of blood. The grotesque sight of slaughtered bodies scattered around made his stomach churn. Gagging, he scrambled to his feet, heart pounding.

A quick glance at the tattered clothing of the dead and the medieval-style architecture told him one thing: he wasn’t on Earth anymore.

"I… transmigrated?" he whispered, still dizzy from the shock.

For a solid ten minutes, his brain refused to work, and he stood there in stunned silence.

It was no game. Death was real, as the limbs and heads on the ground told him so.

Then, slowly, he forced himself to calm down and started analyzing the scene.

The scattered pitchforks, the fallen bodies in peasant garb, the complete absence of armored warriors—the sight before him was no battlefield. It was a slaughter.

But beyond that, he knew nothing. No memories, no guiding voice, no mysterious old man appearing to explain things. Not even a conveniently placed letter.

"Hello?" he called out, waving his arms to his surroundings, hoping someone would appear.

Nothing.

Frowning, he raised his voice. "Isn’t there usually a beautiful goddess or something in these stories?"

"Did she just drop me here and call it a day?"

Silence.

No response. No narrator. No system. No beautiful goddess descending from the heavens to warmly welcome him to this otherworld and enlighten his destiny.

"Just great," he muttered. "I’m stuck in a blood-soaked ruin, and there’s not even a tutorial."

He sighed. Standing around wasn’t going to help. He needed shelter first. He started walking, trying to recall how transmigration stories usually worked.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

"Usually, you have to die first, right?"

He was pretty damn sure he hadn’t died. The last thing he remembered was having some fried chicken.

"If one doesn’t die, it usually takes an obsession, right?" He started to figure out why he transmigrated while being not dead.

Most protagonists had some grand regret—like hating their boring life or wishing for another chance.

He tried to remember if he had said anything along those lines before coming here.

He racked his brain… and then it hit him.

"I was wanting to get another bucket of fried chicken."

…No way.

Could it be…?

For a split second, he seriously looked around the area for fried chicken, just in case.

"Doesn't hurt to check." He shrugged.

And that’s when he heard it—a muffled snort, like someone trying very, very hard to hold back laughter.

"Pfft..."

His eyes widened. His brain clicked.

"I do have a system, don’t I?"

"And this fucker had been silently watching me run around like a headless chicken, just for fun?"

He had an idea. He clutched his nose, fanned the air, and gagged.

"Who’s farting?! Stop the pffting, it stinks!"

The laughter stopped instantly.

"Hey! That’s not funny!" the system snapped, clearly offended, as BaiYun compared his laughter to the sound of farts.

"Oh, my bad. I didn’t realize the mighty Mr. System was so sensitive. What, were you just waiting for me to die first so you could finally give me my first quest?"

BaiYun then cleared his throat and began mimicking a robotic voice:

"Quest Name: Lie Down and Be Dead. Quest Requirement: Lie on your side, not on your back. Quest Reward: Unlock ‘Silent Corpse’ skill—no snoring after death."

The system was not amused.

"Alright, alright, I get it," it cut in, clearly exasperated. "Just shut up for a second and let me explain."

BaiYun went quiet.

The system waited to make sure that BaiYun really shut up.

One second. Two seconds. Three…

At five seconds, BaiYun tilted his head. "Care to speak? What, did my free trial just end, so I have to subscribe to unlock the full conversation service? Even shady porn sites let you see some ass first! How about showing me an ad so I get to have another free trial?"

"I GET IT, OKAY?!"

The system sounded on the verge of tears. It regretted messing with someone like BaiYun, someone who could keep talking just for the sake of... well, talking.

But at least it finally got to the point: BaiYun had been pulled into this world because his mage potential was the highest ever recorded. The situation was urgent, so the system had to summon BaiYun directly.

BaiYun raised an eyebrow. "Urgent?"

"Well…" the system hesitated. "The body you’re in? It belonged to someone named Alan Green. And… uh… he’s been dead for almost two days. If I didn’t pull you over soon, your body would’ve started rotting."

Realizing that this fact might be a bit hard to take in, it quickly added, "Uh, but we did adjust his body to closely resemble your original one."

BaiYun stared at the sky, expression blank.

Then, very slowly, he exhaled.

"…Right. Of course."

For a moment, he considered ranting again. But then he remembered—the highest mage potential. A legendary start.

"…Fine," he said at last. "Whatever. Just give me my Starter Pack."

"Yeah, you wish!"

The system immediately shut him down.

Turns out, he wasn’t a cheat system at all. He was more like an encyclopedia, which could only provide publicly available information. For example, he could access any spell techniques written in a published magic book. But if it was an heirloom spell, he might not even know it existed.

In short, no instant skills, no free magic, no altering the real world—nothing.

"Oh, and one more thing," the system added. "Your mana level? It’s about the same as a regular person’s."

"Meaning?" BaiYun asked.

"Meaning," the system did a rough estimation, "you can cast, like, one Fireball a day before running out of juice."

BaiYun stared at the sky again. "…This world fucking hates me."