The orange glow of the fire still danced behind him, but Noah couldn’t bring himself to look back.
Cael’s charred body lay motionless among the embers, silent now. No screams, no curses, no more secrets.
Noah’s hand trembled as he pulled the bronze pocket watch from the inner pocket of his coat. The lid clicked open."
’Shit, I need to hurry...’
He clenched his jaw. There were thirteen minutes left until the butcher closed. If he failed to bring the meat home, his mother would kill him. Not literally, but after everything that had happened today,the idea didn’t sound so bad.
Noah turned away from the flames and took two steps—then staggered.
His stomach churned, twisted with a sickening knot of guilt and adrenaline. He doubled over and vomited onto the grass. The acidic taste burned his throat.
He wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his cloak, breathing heavily.
’No time to waste. I’ll break down later...’
He ran. Not just through the forest trail, not just toward the city—but as if escaping the weight of what he had done. His feet pounded against the dirt path. Trees blurred past him. Each breath was a knife to the lungs, but he didn’t slow down.
He couldn’t slow down.
The clock was ticking.
Noah’s boots hit the stone-paved road with sharp, hurried steps as he raced through the city gates. His lungs burned and his legs ached, but he didn’t slow down. Every second mattered.
The marketplace was still alive, buzzing with chatter, vendors packing up their stalls, and lanterns flickering to life as the sun dipped behind the buildings. Noah dodged through the crowd, nearly tripping over a crate of apples, ignoring the angry shout that followed.
He turned a corner and saw the butcher’s shop in the distance. The shutters were halfway down.
He bolted the last few meters, stopping just as the butcher was about to slide the door shut.
The man raised an eyebrow, wiping his hands on a bloodstained apron. "Well, well. Just in time, huh? I was about to close up for real."
Noah panted, bending forward with his hands on his knees. "Sorry... ran into someone."
The butcher gave a grunt, half amused, half annoyed. "Better be a damn good reason. What’ll it be?"
Noah straightened up, catching his breath. "Beef. The good kind. Enough for six."
The man nodded and walked into the back, returning moments later with a well-wrapped package of marbled red meat. "Five silvers."
Noah handed him the coins without hesitation. He’d earned them doing small commissions the last time he lived through this week. That version of him had planned a surprise for his family. Funny how some things remained useful, even now.
He took the package and offered a nod of thanks.
"Tell your old man he’s lucky to have a son like you."
Noah smiled faintly and turned, gripping the meat like a prize.
’Lucky... yeah. Maybe this time, I’ll actually get to be that.’
Noah pushed open the front door of his house just as the sun dipped fully below the horizon. The familiar creak of the hinges welcomed him back, but the warmth inside felt slightly colder than usual—maybe because he knew what could’ve happened... what had happened last time.
His mother stood by the kitchen, arms crossed, lips pursed, brow tight. His younger siblings sat at the wooden table, legs swinging, stomachs growling audibly.
"You’re late," his mother said sharply. "Dinner should’ve started twenty minutes ago."
"I know, I know, I’m sorry." Noah held up the wrapped bundle like an offering. "I ran into an old friend. Lost track of time. Thought I could make it up by bringing home the good stuff."
Her eyes narrowed at him, scanning for a lie—but found none. Or rather, she found the kind of lie a mother could forgive.
"...You better not have spent more than five silvers."
"Exactly five. Nothing more." He gave her a sheepish grin.
She sighed, taking the package from his hands and unwrapping it. Her sternness faded slightly as she inspected the cut. "Hm. Well, at least you brought something worth the wait."
She turned and began seasoning the meat, calling over her shoulder, "Go clean up. Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes."
Noah gave a quick salute and headed down the narrow hallway, stepping past his excited siblings, who were now cheering at the sight of beef.
’I really missed this,’ he thought, his steps slowing as he reached the bathroom door.
He opened the door and stepped into the modest room. A toilet, a tub, and a cracked mirror. Nothing fancy.
He locked the door behind him and turned the knob for the hot water. Steam quickly began to rise, fogging up the glass. He sat on the edge of the tub, staring into the steam.
So much had happened in one day.
He ran a hand through his messy black hair, leaned back, and let the silence settle in.
’Old friend... huh,’ he thought bitterly, remembering Cael’s face. ’If only she knew.’
The water in the tub was warm—almost too warm—but Noah didn’t care. He slipped in slowly, his muscles easing as the heat surrounded him. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he leaned back, resting his head against the wooden edge.
The house was quiet except for the distant clatter of pans and the occasional giggle of his siblings. A stark contrast to the raging thoughts in his mind.
His crimson eyes stared at the ceiling, unfocused.
’Three players. Not two. And now one is dead.’
He sank deeper into the water until only his mouth and nose were above the surface, his eyes glowing faintly beneath damp strands of hair.
’So why didn’t I remember this in the previous life?’
Cael had clearly not regained his memories... or at least, he hadn’t acted like he had. Maybe he truly was clueless until the end. Or maybe he was just better at hiding it.
Noah clenched his fists under the water.
’No. That confusion... That fear. It was too real.’
Then the memory of the voice echoed again, crisp and cold.
[Player 2 has died. Two players remain. Reassigning roles: Player 1 and Player 3 are now the protagonists.]
’That voice... it was identical to the system from the game. But it never spoke in the last timeline. Not once. No quests, no guides, no roles. Nothing. So why now?’
He raised his hand and whispered, "Status."
’So what changed? Why show up now? And... what does it mean that we’re the "protagonists"?’
The title felt wrong. Like something stolen. Noah had never wanted to be a protagonist. He just wanted to survive. To live his second life in peace.
Instead, he had blood on his hands.
’And now... there’s someone else out there.’
His eyes opened wider, red and piercing.
’Player 1 or 3 I don’t know which one you are. Whoever you are... I’ll find you.’
He slipped lower into the water until it covered his ears, muting the world. Only the dull beat of his heart remained.
And the faint echo of the system’s words, looping in his mind like a curse.
The water muffled everything. Noah stayed submerged just long enough to feel the burn in his lungs before emerging with a slow gasp, water dripping down his face, tracing the sharp line of his jaw. He leaned forward, arms resting on his knees, hair soaked and clinging to his skin.
His reflection shimmered faintly on the water’s surface.
’So many questions... and no answers.’
He let his fingers trace small ripples along the tub.
’If Cael didn’t remember, then Player 1 or 3 might not, either. Or maybe they do. Maybe they’re hiding like I was. Or worse...’
’Maybe they’re watching me already.’
A knock on the door made him flinch.
"Noah!" his mother called from the hallway. "Dinner’s ready, come down before it gets cold!"
He blinked and looked toward the sound.
"...Got it! I’ll be right there!" he answered, forcing steadiness into his voice.
She didn’t respond, but he could hear footsteps walking away.
He let out a quiet breath.
’This world... it feels so real. More real than the last time.’
He reached over to the edge of the tub, where a towel was folded neatly. As he dried himself off and stepped out, he caught a glimpse of his reflection again in the foggy mirror—wet hair, crimson eyes, a lean but defined body.
’I’m not who I used to be.’
A bitter smile tugged at his lips.
’I killed someone today. I buried the past, erased a future... and I still don’t regret it.’
He grabbed a loose shirt and pants, dressed quickly, and combed a hand through his hair as he opened the bathroom door.
From the hallway, the smell of roasted meat reached his nose.
’Later. I’ll find the answers later. For now... it’s dinner time.’
He started walking down the hallway, leaving behind the steam and silence of the bathroom.
The dining table was modest, a bit worn from years of use, but it was full tonight—stacked with roasted vegetables, bread still warm, and the centerpiece: a sizzling pan of beef with herbs. The scent alone could’ve made anyone forget their worries.
Noah took his seat quietly, still drying his hair with a towel. His little sister, Lila, beamed up at him from across the table, her cheeks stuffed with food.
"You’re late," said Eren, his younger brother, flashing a grin.
"He ran into a friend," their mother, Marie, said, bringing over a pitcher of water. "Right, Noah?"
"Yeah," Noah muttered, forcing a smile. "An old one."
His father, Paul, raised an eyebrow but said nothing at first. He carved a slice of meat and placed it on Noah’s plate, then leaned back with a proud look on his face.
"I told the neighbors today," Paul said, wiping his hands with a cloth napkin. "About your acceptance into Arkesia."
"Oh no," Noah replied, playfully groaning. "You really told them?"
"Of course I did!" Paul laughed. "You should’ve seen their faces. Some of them couldn’t believe it. Arkesia, of all places! They looked like their teeth had gone sour."
Marie chuckled as she sat beside him. "Mrs. Genna even asked if we had bribed someone."
Lila giggled. "Are you going to become a prince now, Noah?"
"More like a knight," said Toby, wide-eyed and serious. "He’s going to fight monsters and cast spells and—"
"Eat your vegetables," Marie interrupted, patting Toby’s head with a fond sigh.
Noah just watched them all, smiling quietly.
The table was noisy, full of laughter and teasing. Paul was still bragging, and Marie gently scolded him to stop showing off. Eren and Toby fought over the last piece of bread. Nothing had changed.
And yet... everything had.
Noah took a slow bite of the meat.
It tasted better than anything he’d had in years.
’This... this is what I need to protect. No matter what.’
He looked up, eyes distant for a moment.
’If there’s still a another player... and if they come for them... I’ll be ready.’
He raised his glass of water and said with a soft, genuine voice:
His family raised theirs in return, clinking glasses with bright eyes.