[**System:** User! The world you are in is not an illusion, nor are you in a coma.

  You have been reincarnated into the body of **Prince Cristus** of the **Oriolel Imperial Family**.

  At the moment of death, you survived **0.3 seconds** longer than Cristus within the rift between your planet and this one.

  Your soul was forcefully injected into this body after its true owner’s death.]

  “Whaaaaat..? Rift? Between two worlds or planets? What is this?.. Am I in some absurd fantasy coma? Unheard of!”

  His mind bombarded itself with questions born of disbelief.

  “Forcefully injected? Souls? Are they even real? Or is this one of those ghost tales my grandma used to tell, that my brain is now replaying in this absurd coma?”

  He was in utter disbelief. As a human from Earth, he could hardly accept what he was hearing.

  “And what absurdity is this? Sh*t! I think I’m trapped in some absurd coma,” he muttered, facepalming in frustration.

  “Who knows how long it’ll take for me to wake up…” he sighed inwardly.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  [**System:** Host, this! Is! Not! A! Dream! Nor can you wake up in your original planet!]

  The system’s tone was firm, leaving no room for doubt.

  “Then say—what’s the year?” he sighed and asked.

  [**System:** According to Earth’s calendar, this planet is approximately **1.8 billion years old**.]

  The system didn’t answer directly.

  “It seems like this planet doesn’t follow an annual calendar like humans on Earth,” Arthur thought to himself.

  “Anyway—”

  Just as he was about to speak, he heard something rapidly approaching the room.

  *Tuck, tuck, tuck—*

  Footsteps echoed closer, quick and sharp. Arthur’s body tensed, his senses alert.

  He scanned the room quickly—spotting a few items: a flower vase, finely carved wooden chairs, and most importantly, a **sheathed sword** leaning at the corner near his bed.

  “At least I’m not defenseless,” he thought with slight relief.

  **Thoom!**

  The door burst open, revealing an old man with white hair and a pointed mustache. He wore a black coat, matching pants, polished shoes, and thin eyeglasses. Sweat dripped down his face as he panted heavily, perhaps from running.

  “**Lord Cristus!**” he exclaimed, his expression filled with shock and near disbelief—almost fainting at the sight.

  **Toon!**

  He dropped to his knees from relief, still panting, before pulling a small transparent glass bottle from his coat pocket. Inside, a **green liquid** shimmered faintly, one-third of the bottle filled. Around the liquid, a **golden aura** rotated in a perfect 360°, swirling from top to bottom.

  [**System:** This is a **High-Tier Antidote for Strayfish Worms**.

  It has no dangerous side effects, though it may cause mild dizziness for 6–12 hours after consumption.]

  “Strayfish worms..? What even *is* that supposed to mean?” Arthur—Cristus—pondered silently.

  He hesitated to take the tonic.

  “If I’m not infected by these worms, could it have *other* effects?” he asked the system mentally.

  Seeing Cristus’s long silence, the butler spoke in a concerned tone.

  “Cristus… are you alright, my lord?”

  At that same moment, the system replied sharply:

  [**System:** No.]

  Arthur blinked in confusion, glancing between the butler and the glowing tonic—unsure whether to trust it or not.

  **End of Chapter 4**