Félix Graham de Vanily Has Logged In.
Adrien opened his bedroom door and immediately regretted it.
The chair at his desk swiveled around slowly, like a villain reveal in an old detective movie. Seated there, arms steepled, expression unreadable, was Félix Graham de Vanily.
Adrien blinked. His brain short-circuited.
Who?
A soft chime echoed in his head.
[System Alert: New Capture Target Encountered!]
Name: Félix Graham de Vanily
Route Status: Locked
Traits: Cold, Mysterious, Intelligent
Appeal: The Sexy, Unattainable British Transfer
Game Description: A sharp-witted, enigmatic heir with an aloof demeanor. While seemingly distant, he holds a soft, doting side for the one who truly captures his heart.
Adrien stared at the notification.
Then back at Félix.
Then back at the notification.
Then back at Félix.
“…No,” he said aloud, rejecting reality itself.
Félix raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
Adrien groaned, dragging a hand down his face. Of course. Of course.
Félix was another capture target. He had heard about him before—from Chloe’s unhinged game rants.
"Oh my god, Adrien, there's this one route that is SO HARD TO UNLOCK, but he's like, the ultimate unattainable British heartthrob—cold, mysterious, but secretly soft?? Felix is for the cultured, refined players. The thinking woman’s crush."
She had then spent twenty minutes rage-quitting because Félix’s affection bar was impossible to max out.
Adrien had laughed at the time.
He was not laughing now.
Because Félix was here, in his room, acting like he was about to execute some elaborate assassination plot.
"Welcome home, Adrien," Félix said smoothly.
Adrien did not scream.
But he did slam the door shut.
A second passed.
He opened it again.
Félix was still there.
Okay. So this was happening.
Adrien pinched the bridge of his nose. “Félix. What. The. Hell.”
Félix tilted his head slightly, like a cat assessing prey. "Is that any way to greet your dear cousin?"
Adrien exhaled slowly through his nose. "My dear cousin lives in London."
Félix nodded. "Not anymore. I'm transferring."
Adrien blinked. “You’re what.”
"Transferring. To your school. I thought I’d inform you."
Adrien opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
"From London."
"Yes."
"You expect me to believe you just decided—on a whim—to move across countries, uproot your entire life, and suddenly attend a school in Paris?"
Félix smiled faintly. “Yes.”
Lies.
So many lies.
There was no way Félix would do something that inconvenient—unless the game itself was forcing it.
[System Alert: Love Route Unlocked!]
Adrien choked.
LOVE ROUTE?!
NO. NO NO NO.
Before he could even process that horrifying revelation, Félix scrutinized him with an unreadable gaze.
Then, almost casually, he murmured, “You seem… different, cousin.”
Adrien barely managed to suppress a flinch.
Crap. Crap crap crap.
He needed a believable excuse. Something normal.
A familiar chime rang out.
[Dialogue Choice Unlocked!]
🗨️ "Oh, you know. I've just decided to implement a few changes in my life." (Casual, vague, non-threatening.)
🗨️ "Hahaha, what do you mean? I'm the same as always!" (Suspicious. Try harder.)
🗨️ "Different how? What are you implying? Are you spying on me?!" (Unhinged. Do not pick this.)
Adrien mentally slammed the first option.
“Oh, you know,” he said, keeping his tone breezy. "I've just decided to implement a few changes in my life."
Félix’s gaze flickered slightly, but his expression remained unreadable.
A long silence stretched between them.
Then, at last, Félix gave a small nod. “I see.”
Adrien did not relax.
Félix had let that go too easily.
But, thankfully, he didn’t press further.
Instead, he stood up, adjusted his cuffs like an evil CEO, and made his way to the window.
Adrien narrowed his eyes. “Now that we’ve had this fun little chat—why are you in my house.”
Félix glanced at him, completely unconcerned. “Oh. I let myself in.”
“Yeah. I gathered.”
Félix took that as his cue to leave, stepping onto the balcony like this was his house. "I’ll see you at school, cousin."
Then he leaped off.
Adrien ran to the railing. "Félix, what the f—"
Too late. Félix had already vanished into the Parisian night like some kind of cryptid.
Adrien took a deep, shuddering breath.
Then he turned to his room, eyed his bed longingly, and promptly flopped onto it face-first.
He was so tired.
And unfortunately, the day wasn’t over yet.
The second Félix was gone, something stirred inside Adrien’s shirt.
And then—
ZOOM.
A tiny black blur rocketed out from under his collar, darting in frantic circles around his head before stopping directly in front of his face.
Adrien barely had time to react before a very tiny, very judgmental cat-thing scowled at him.
“You.”
Adrien blinked. “Me?”
“Yes, you,” the cat huffed, crossing his tiny paws. “Alright, kid. I have exactly one question for you—”
He floated closer, squinting.
“WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?”
Adrien opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
“What?”
“You heard me.” The floating cat gestured wildly with his tiny paws. “You are not my Chat Noir.”
Adrien stared. “Your… Chat Noir?”
“Yes! My Chat Noir! My stubborn, reckless, insufferable—but at least mildly competent—holder.”
Plagg’s green eyes narrowed.
“You? You don’t even smell like cheese.”
Adrien blinked. “I—What—”
“You don’t even carry cheese!” Plagg zoomed around him accusingly, sniffing the air. “Not even a crumb of camembert!”
Adrien, who had zero context for whatever this tiny demon was talking about, just threw up his hands. “WHY WOULD I BE CARRYING AROUND CHEESE?!”
Plagg reeled back. “See?! That’s exactly what I mean!”
Adrien inhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“You’re telling me…” He exhaled slowly. “That the ‘real’ Adrien Agreste—the one from this world—carries cheese?”
“Yes.”
“For… what? Snacking? Emotional support?”
“...Yes.”
Adrien rubbed his temples. “Oh, my god.”
Plagg narrowed his eyes. “I knew something was weird the second I popped out of your ring. You had the same reaction as my usual Adrien, but you don’t feel like him.”
Adrien froze.
Plagg floated closer, his tail flicking thoughtfully.
“You’re not my Chat Noir.”
Adrien swallowed. “I—”
“So, who are you?”
Silence.
Adrien hesitated. He couldn’t tell Plagg about the System. That much was obvious. If the game had given him pre-written dialogue responses to Felix’s suspicion earlier, it would probably shut him down if he started revealing too much.
But…
The loneliness that had been clawing at him since waking up here threatened to overwhelm him.
So instead, he took a breath and said, carefully:
“…I don’t think I’m supposed to be here.”
Plagg’s ears twitched. “Explain.”
Adrien shifted. “I—” He licked his lips, trying to find the words. “I… died.”
Plagg tilted his head.
“Where I come from… I wasn’t Chat Noir. I wasn’t a superhero. I was just… a guy. Also called Adrien. Also son of renowned fashion designer Gabriel Agreste.” Adrien exhaled shakily. “And then one day, I choked on a macaron, and I woke up here. In his body.”
Plagg blinked.
Silence stretched between them.
And then—
“…So, let me get this straight.”
Adrien braced himself.
“You choked on a pastry—”
“Yes.”
“Died—”
“Yes.”
“And now you’re… a reincarnated catboy?”
“…Yes.”
Plagg floated there.
Expression unreadable.
Then, very slowly—
He nodded.
“Huh.”
Adrien stared. “…Huh?”
“That’s rough, buddy.”
Adrien blinked. “I—you—” He threw up his hands. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”
Plagg shrugged. “What, you want me to freak out?”
“I don’t know! Maybe??”
Plagg just floated onto Adrien’s shoulder and yawned. “Kid, I’ve lived for thousands of years. I’ve seen reincarnation before.”
Adrien froze.
“…You have?”
“Yup,” Plagg said simply, curling his tail. “Not the first time a soul’s jumped to the wrong place. It’s rare, but it happens.”
Adrien stared.
And for the first time since waking up in this horrific dating sim nightmare, he felt something solid in his chest.
He wasn’t losing it.
He wasn’t imagining things.
And now… he wasn’t alone.
Plagg gave him a sideways glance. “…Feel better?”
Adrien exhaled. A real, deep, genuine exhale. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I do.”
Plagg smirked. “Good. Now, we need to talk about something important.”
Adrien raised an eyebrow. “What?”
Plagg’s expression turned serious.
“…Cheese.”
Adrien groaned.
After thirty minutes of Plagg complaining about camembert and Adrien asking every superhero-related question he could think of, Plagg casually dropped the biggest bombshell of all.
“Oh, by the way,” he yawned. “You have superpowers.”
Adrien stared.
Plagg floated lazily around his head. “You can jump really high, you’re super fast, you have enhanced senses, and you’ve got Cataclysm, which lets you destroy literally anything.”
“…I can destroy anything?”
“Yup.”
Adrien’s brain short-circuited.
Plagg grinned. “Wanna try it out?”
Adrien’s inner weeb activated immediately. “YES.”
Plagg flicked his tail. “Say the magic words.”
Adrien’s breath hitched.
This was it.
His transformation sequence moment.
He spread his arms wide.
"PLAGG, CLAWS OUT!"
A rush of energy enveloped him. He felt weightless, like he was being pulled through the very fabric of the universe, power thrumming through his veins as his body transformed—
And then he was standing on his balcony.
In a skintight black suit.
Adrien looked down at himself.
Then back up.
Then down again.
“…Holy shit.”
He was Chat Noir.
He had a tail. A belt tail. And cat ears.
His hands were covered in sleek black gloves, and when he flexed his fingers, sharp retractable claws extended from the tips.
He had claws.
He was a catboy.
“I AM A CATBOY.”
Adrien practically vibrated with excitement. He sprinted to the edge of his balcony and leaped.
And he landed.
On a rooftop.
His heart pounded.
He could run. He could leap. He could do PARKOUR.
For the first time since waking up in this stupid dating sim, he felt free.
And then he ran.