The Omni-Anime world had so many geniuses! What was wrong with adding me to the mix?
Author: White Had No Album
Synopsis:
As everyone knew, without some talent and strength, it was impossible to get by in an omni-anime world!
Every day, you either encountered an academic prodigy who casually scored full marks or an "ordinary" high school student from a billionaire family;
Bestselling authors and national idols blocked your door every day, while musical prodigies were as common as stray dogs by the roadside!
How was an ordinary person supposed to survive in a world like this?
"Oh, I'm not an ordinary person either? Then never mind!"
Although he had no system to help him, Sakurakoji Talent had been born with a family background, talent, looks, and parents that other protagonists could rarely obtain even after a lifetime.
The only problem...
"What do you mean I was born with several debuffs? Can I even live to twenty?"
"There are so many geniuses in the omni-anime world. Why do they have to keep targeting me?!"
As Yamada Ryo, Hoshino Ai, Kawaragi Momoka, Hiratsuka Shizuka, Sakurajima Mai, and others kept appearing...
His gaze turned disdainful.
"Hmph. Looking at you all is less worthwhile than looking in a mirror."
"Hm? Contact with them can cure my illness? Then I have no choice but to go!"
"You know, I have no subjective intention of being a scumbag, but objectively, that fact may still exist."
"A Shura Field? That sounds dangerous. I wonder if dressing as a woman and using an alternate account could help share some of the burden."
"My XX girlfriends who love me super-super-super-super much?"
Volume One: The Daily Life of Attracting Bees and Butterflies: Chapter 1— I'm Perfect, but I'm Sick
New York, inside a manor villa.
A young girl stood motionless outside the door of a room at the end of the path. She wore a Japanese-style dress hem patterned with sakura, had a pair of symmetrical ahoge on her forehead, and long, smooth black stockings of hair cascading down her back like a waterfall, with two ponytails tied on either side.
She held her hands before her chest, took a deep breath, and gently knocked on the dark wooden door before her.
"Big Brother, it's Ashiri. May I come in?"
She did not have to wait long before a faint, muffled response came from inside.
"Ashiri? Come in."
"Yes, I'm coming in."
Turning the handle, Ashiri felt somewhat nervous as she slowly pushed open the gates to this Demon Lord's Castle.
The dark energy of the Demon Lord's Castle instantly surged out, swallowing her and the surrounding air alike. It quickly cut them off from the bright outside world. Dim candlelight swayed before her eyes like soul flames that shook the heart.
A bone-deep chill pressed against her body, making her delicate frame shudder as she involuntarily trembled. The hoarse cries of nether crows seemed to ring in her ears, as though welcoming her arrival.
One step apart, and it was as if they were two different worlds.
Ashiri hugged her arms, seeking a little warmth. Then, puffing out her cheeks slightly, she walked into the Demon Lord's Castle that struck fear into countless people's hearts and casually slapped a hand against the wall.
Smack!
The dark energy was swept away in an instant by the Goddess of Light, revealing the disorderly room within. A broad bed occupied only one corner of the room's center. Surrounding it were cabinets, chairs and sofas, a huge standing electronic display, and a bookshelf covering an entire wall, with a one-person-wide worktable in front of it.
Numerous sheets of paper covered in all kinds of content were scattered across the worktable and floor, trampled mercilessly by someone.
The sudden light clearly left the resident of the Demon Lord's Castle unable to adapt.
"Ah! My eyes! My eyes!"
A figure before the worktable covered their eyes and cried out. Their originally pleasant voice had turned shrill and piercing, as though they had suffered a massive attack.
The maids sweeping fallen leaves in the garden heard the commotion, exchanged a few glances, and smiled knowingly.
"Big Brother, how many times have I told you? Working in a dark environment is bad for your eyes."
"I think suddenly turning on the main light is what's bad for my eyes!"
The room's owner, Sakurakoji Talent, rubbed his clear red eyes with a resentful expression and looked toward his full younger sister, complaining unhappily.
"That's still your fault for refusing to change even after I've told you so many times."
"I did turn on the desk lamp."
"It's precisely because you only turned on the desk lamp that I said it was bad for your eyes."
Sakurakoji Ashiri crouched down and picked up the large amount of "trash" scattered across the floor. After sorting it, she placed it neatly on the worktable. She then packed up the scraps that had truly become garbage and threw them into the trash can.
"And why do you never turn on the heater when you work? You'll really catch a cold like this."
The swaying soul flame was, in fact, the Artemide desk lamp sitting on the worktable. The tangible chill came from the winter draft pouring in because the window had been left open.
"Isn't it nice? Immersing yourself in nature and living in harmony with it is the only way to create excellent works. Besides, you can hear the returning migratory birds singing in spring. Beautiful, isn't it?"
"But I only heard crows cawing. Besides, it's January. Spring is still a while away."
"Ah, no wonder it sounded so awful. It even ruined my mood."
"..."
Sakurakoji Ashiri closed the open window and turned on the heater before looking helplessly at her elder brother. There was nothing wrong with her brother, except that something seemed abnormal about his personality and way of thinking.
People often said artists were a group made up of perverts and homosexuals. Yet even her parents and uncle seemed like normal people compared with him.
After a long while, Ashiri spoke with some regret.
"Is it Big Brother today?"
"Mm. That's the mood I'm in today."
"What a shame desu."
"Hey, hey, my adorable little sister, could you not treat the two of us so differently? I'll be sad, you know. I really will be sad!"
Sakurakoji Talent expressed his dissatisfaction with his sister while glancing at the full-length mirror beside him.
A peerlessly handsome, androgynous figure was secretly looking back at him in perfect sync, with two strands of ahoge identical to Ashiri's falling over his forehead.
Snow-white hair fell to his hips. His pure, crimson eyes reflected everything in the world. His neatly fitted suit hugged his slightly thin frame without making him look bulky in the slightest. No matter who saw him, they would call him an elegant young nobleman.
He had already been in this world for more than a decade. In his previous life, he had started with a disastrous opening and ended with a hasty conclusion.
He had gotten the whole package: a gambling-addict father, an unfaithful mother, a delinquent sister, and a broken family. After struggling for twenty years, he had finally gotten into a good university and found a good job, only to die suddenly on the eve of changing his fate.
But in this life, from the moment he opened his eyes, Sakurakoji Talent knew he was set.
His father was a member of a world-class financial conglomerate. Although he had married into the family, he still maintained an excellent relationship with it.
His mother came from a traditional, prestigious family. Although she had been unwelcome at home, she had relied on her ironclad methods and extraordinary talent to split from the family and establish herself independently while still in her teens. Her assets were even far greater than those of the main family. She had achieved the remarkable feat of turning the main family into a branch family and accomplishing a Gekokujo.
As the eldest son of the family, it would be no exaggeration to say he had been born a rich young master with a golden spoon in his mouth.
Although this was not the usual transmigrator script of "parents dead, car and house secured," did that matter? Could a transmigrator from an ordinary urban novel struggle for an entire lifetime and reach the starting point he had now?
What was more, he had not only inherited his parents' outstanding looks but also their remarkable talent. He could quickly master almost anything.
Young, wealthy, handsome, elegant, gifted, and blessed with a harmonious and loving family—this was practically a dreamlike, perfect starting hand!
It could be said that everything he had was something he had longed for in his previous life but could never attain.
Sometimes, even he could not help asking himself: How could someone so perfect exist in this world?
Looking at himself in the mirror, Sakurakoji Talent wore a puzzled expression.
He was so perfect that he could hardly stop himself from falling in love with his own reflection, while he felt almost nothing toward other members of the opposite sex.
Although the lack of the system essential to every reincarnator made him feel as though something was missing, so what?
With starting conditions like these, even if he kept courting death, it would be difficult for him to fall down the social ladder and become an ordinary person.
"A system? That's something only trash needs. True strong people don't need external assistance!"
Sakurakoji Talent swore this in his heart, brimming with confidence.
Several dozen minutes later,
Ashiri finished tidying the room, gave him a few more lectures, and left. Sakurakoji Talent was now the only one remaining inside.
"System bro, are you there? I was wrong. Say something!"
"I admit I was a little too loud just now. I'll change, I'll change, all right?"
"Moshi moshi~"
Less than an hour after his previous high spirits, Sakurakoji Talent had already softened. He lay sprawled across the huge worktable, his eyes vacant, unconsciously letting out soft groans.
The pain in his body was almost tangible. It hurt even more than being wrapped in a blanket covered with sharp needles. Wave after wave of pain surged from every part of him into his brain along with his continuously twitching nerves, leaving his consciousness hazy.
Stabbing pain, dull pain, burning pain, cutting pain, bone-fracture pain, nerve pain... Countless kinds of pain erupted simultaneously in different parts of his body, assaulting his senses all at once and nearly driving him to collapse.
The sorrow, anger, hatred, and suicidal thoughts constantly welling up inside him almost made him choose to end his life outright.
At that moment, he hated himself for having a brain. If he could, he wanted to die immediately!
"No, no, no. It took so much effort to begin this new life. Don't think this little pain can make me submit!"
"What is this bit of suffering compared with my previous life?"
Sakurakoji Talent clenched his teeth and fists. Blood seeped from his fingertips. Beads of sweat gathered on his forehead, the veins on his jade-white arms stood out, and his already crimson eyes grew even deeper. His thin body trembled nonstop.
"Would I look like I'm having a hypoglycemic episode to other people right now? If only it really were hypoglycemia."
Through his blurred consciousness, he forcibly shifted his attention and tried to amuse himself with the thought.
Time crawled like a snail. The second hand seemed to have become a minute hand, and every second was agonizingly long.
Fortunately, the symptoms came fiercely and left cleanly. After the overwhelming peak passed, he gradually regained control of his body.
Although his body remained painfully uncomfortable, the sensation had dropped to a level he could tolerate.
He slowly sat up and let out a long breath, a trace of exhaustion and confusion showing in his eyes.
"I got through it again? It really wasn't anything special after all. As expected of me."
His originally neat clothes were soaked and crumpled. He forced a strained smile and silently cheered his victory.
After a while, Sakurakoji Talent laboriously pushed himself up with one hand and staggered toward the bathroom.
Facing upward beneath the showerhead, he let the warm water pound against his body. It seemed to wash away some of the pain as well.
In this life, he could almost be considered perfect.
Yes, almost—if not for this inexplicable illness.
He was sick, and seriously so. He was extremely ill.
This inexplicable illness had accompanied him since birth, staying with him through more than a decade of spring and autumn.
He had consulted the world's top doctors, but they had found nothing. They could not even determine its origin or mechanism, let alone discover a treatment.
In his previous life, he had heard a joke: A doctor told a patient that his illness was extremely rare. When the patient asked how rare it was, the doctor replied, "We're planning to name it after you."
Sakurakoji Talent felt that he was exactly such a case.
Although he had gradually grown accustomed to it, he was not a masochist. If he had to describe himself, he should probably be considered an S... When would these days finally end?
He splashed water onto his cheeks, shut off the water, and picked up the warm bath towel heated by a machine. He meticulously wiped the droplets from his body and hair. After making sure he was basically dry, he carefully used a hair dryer before painstakingly grooming each strand of hair with a comb.
Fortunately, symptoms like those just now only occurred occasionally. Although daily life was painful as well, he had gradually grown accustomed to it over the years. As long as death had not arrived, life still had to go on.
Living each minute earnestly was his creed.
Especially when it came to his appearance, he had profound insights.
Natural beauty was certainly precious, but maintaining it required diligent care afterward.
Born into a family of designers, he understood far better than ordinary people how much effort was required to preserve a perfect appearance. Coordinating clothing and jewelry was merely the foundation, while daily hair and skincare were only the beginning. Even regular beauty treatments could not be considered especially sophisticated.
No matter how good one's foundation was, if it was not managed from multiple angles at once, it would quickly deteriorate with age.
Looking at the white hair and crimson eyes he had inherited from his mother in the mirror, Sakurakoji Talent stared blankly.
Before you continue