It was pitch black.

You cannot see anything, even with the sun tenfold astronomical unit behind you.

But this tiny, almost unseen white light starts to enlarge from nowhere, and then—

BAM!!!

Then there's it.

A marble white wall encircles within your sight, accompanied by tons of fancy, lavish furniture around you. You remember nothing of this room layout—heck, it truly is a waste of money just for one simple, average room!

"... Good morning, Young Master."

A wrinkly old lady stood up beside you, bowing as if you are the ultimate being. She folds the blanket as you get out of the bed. "Young Master, you will be late to attend today's classes."

What the?

You, barely conscious from that white light's weird explosion, have to attend classes?

"Young Master."

No, let's assess our situation, first.

This room definitely belongs to someone around the Medieval era... With these expensive items scattered across, we can safely attest this person was not someone normal—.

"Young Master." She called in a higher tone, "You will be late!"

"No." You talked.

"What...?" She frowns. She stopped the blanket folding, "Do you have something to take care of, Young Master?"

Sure, you want to utter that old lady about memory's absences inside your head, but let's not start the fire. There's plenty of matters to discuss, but the first step...

"I'll study alone. And relay this message; Cancel any meetings for a week straight."

She trembles in horror, "... Are you sure, Young Master?"

"You'll do well to understand my message."

"... Alright, Young Master. I shall then—."

You shut her lips up, "Wait, I will arrange my schedule myself. You will just fetch me the food, fill my drinks, and leave quickly. Do not try to pry me. Oh, and I'll take care of my room alone."

She bows and leaves the room without any questions.

Your first step, done.

"Now, move onto the second step..."

Your legs start to walk to the balcony. Upon opening the door, foliage color starts to invade your memory. There are massive trees on the edge of the city. You knew this panorama too well.

You can possibly never forget the setting.

However, you should know something's not right.

Yes.

Your memory's absences.

You cannot remember your own memory. This panorama is something that should be normal, but you barely know this piece of information.

But let's not forget...

"... Where the hell am I...?"

You begin to wander around, finding plenty of books at the wooden study desk. You remembered this texture, yet you wonder the reason behind this unknown feel.

A handwritten name displayed on the first page;

[ Oliver C. Hawkett ]

"Strange."

You feel as if you knew something who share the same name as this Oliver. The riddle seems piled up like no tomorrow.

Fortunately, a human-sized mirror had already been set near the wardrobe. You took another step and now stood up facing them.

A straight jet-black haired with a pair of turquoise eyes. Height is no higher than around 5 feet 8 inches.

This is Oliver C. Hawkett, huh.

"You're Oliver." As if talking to oneself in the mirror.

Touching the mirror, you mumbled as if praying, "It seems I'll have to set a new path to find my true self using you, Oliver."

Bit by bit, the information begins to pile and be organized inside my mind, flawlessly. You expect these books subpar to your survival essences, to have them filled the secondary data you might need to build the next step.

This book, Introduction to Geography, explained the whooping two continents equal to some... ugh... probably Gondwana and Laurasia of your world. Heck, if they're exactly at 1:5.000.000, that would easily be the largest you have ever seen. And there are more than fifty 'countries' alone, one reigning in the northeast continent called Iglanavja. Well, makes sense.

And plenty of small notes beside Iglanavja thing. These notes summed one thing;

Iglanavja is almost a hundred percent the current country you're residing.

The temperature, the panorama, the architectural and interior design screams the similarity between—.

A flash of memory splashed right before the conclusion.

(°)

It was another uneventful day.

A rather tolerable cold greets you while strolling around a park of iron-built buildings. Everyone speaks a fluent • • • • accent as you sneakily picked their conversations.

wait, I can't remember the fitting one to fit the empty space between fluent and accent...

You entered one of the buildings and checked something out on the receptionist. You remembered the interior; yep it's wholly opposite to the previous interior you've witnessed.

However, the photo onto small pamphlet you got offered from a certain event held in the building bears a staggering similarity to aforementioned interior memory you have seen.

A white, marble room. Both nuanced a Medieval, and came from around 18th Century.

(°)

"God."

You remembered.

Both interior bore the same atmosphere, and that's the first past memory you regained after awhile. You still can't remember your original name, though. But one thing's already verified: you became a noble son, and ought to perform tasks as soon as possible to keep this occurence a secret.

Ah, dammit. You have never ever taken an etiquette lesson, let alone noble lessons!

"Damn. If only I was also a noble..."

Wait, was?

You're unsure even your original class before this accident... But let's assume you're a part of 98% fucking peasants in this world. To top of it, you possessed the noble son and fucked it right away. A small misstep and your fate's done, Heaven knows you can be tied at public execution and kiss your fate a fine good bye.

"Okay, stay calm, Oliver." You sighed, trying to cool off your panicked reaction, "First, one week is more or less enough to check the classes and mimic the final assessment of this son's grade..."

It would be double fucked if you accidentally make this body's more smarter while the original was a total dumb.

A word to summarise this boy's intelligence: average.

You nodded as your brain assesses the original's studies. Geography was pretty much a secondary-school grade, maths were kinda lagged. As expected, you think, perhaps due to cultural differences between this 'world' to yours. While you can compensate these subjects, one has to improvise soon; noble etiquettes and leadership. You find some notes associated with order and laws and such.

An example, if you wish.

[ This ____ fief is low on grain and water supply. What should you do to revolutionize the shortage? Consider this fief yours to oversee. ]

Even horrifying, the answer's likely coming from a pretty doomed attitude this original boy; he didn't give a cent of **** towards the fief!

No wonder he had red marks across all leadership notion. If he continues to act accordingly, thus revealed several predictable paths; you could either living moderately or worst, poverty as the familial aspects are little to nothing in this surviving the aristocracy. You did something, eventually led up to upper and prominent families. Your record will be written as it is.

You certainly didn't wish to live miserably from your own miscalculation, did you?

Yeah, that's it.

You gotta change this subject. Bit by bit.

You should need to keep vigilant of addressing the noble lessons, a smooth change that is.

"Okay. Now time to check something." You need to assess others, too. One is, the original's habit.

You had absolutely zero idea of the previous' lifestyle. It was pure luck that you bluffed to that ol' maid, but definitely will improvise the act as soon as possible.

Which means,

you fucked up again.

"Okay, time to cover the void."