Objective one: complete.
I’d come to terms with something unpleasant today—something I’d been avoiding for a while now.
If I wanted to reach the ending I had in mind... I’d have to kill.
There was no clean path forward, no hero’s route paved with kindness and compromise. I didn’t like it, not one bit—but I accepted it.
Well... maybe I’d grow to like it eventually?
No, that sounded way too ominous. Definitely not the vibe I was going for.
Anyway, it was time to move on to objective two.
Not exactly a grand mission.
I needed bug spray.
Not just one can either—I needed an entire arsenal. And no, not because I suddenly developed a phobia or had a traumatic encounter with a cockroach. There was a reason. A good one. You’ll find out soon enough.
I walked into the local supermarket, grabbed a basket, and filled it to the brim with sprays, traps, and repellent strips.
I dropped it all on the counter.
The shopkeeper raised his eyebrows as he stared at the pile. "...Planning to declare war on the insect kingdom?"
"Something like that."
"Camping trip?"
"Nope."
"Hiking?"
"Closer, but still no."
He gave me a curious look. "You’re an academy student, right? Didn’t think dorms had bug problems."
I smiled politely. "The dorms are clean. It’s the main building that’s a bit... unpredictable. Big old structures tend to have hidden corners."
"Fair enough," he nodded. "Still, it’s early in the season. Most people don’t stock up until summer kicks in."
"I’m a little sensitive," I admitted with a shrug. "Better to be prepared than wake up with something crawling on my face."
He let out a short laugh. "A hero student afraid of bugs, huh? You sure you’ll survive the jungle training down the line?"
"Not afraid," I said, deadpan. "Just planning to win the war before it starts."
That made him grin. "Smart kid."
I paid, thanked him, and left the store with my bags rustling at my side.
Objectively speaking, it was a ridiculous errand—but the truth behind it? Not so ridiculous.
If all went according to plan, these sprays wouldn’t just be for bugs.
They’d be the beginning of something much, much bigger.
After a short, casual chat with the shopkeeper, I made my way toward the park near the supermarket.
The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the buildings. Evening had arrived.
He should be here by now.
This was, after all, part of his routine.
The main objective of today’s little solo outing was to stage a "coincidental" encounter I had carefully planned.
"Sigh... why does his hometown have to be so far from Velcrest Academy?" I muttered to myself, dragging my feet slightly as I walked.
Four hours.
That’s how long it took to get here from the academy.
Right now, I wasn’t just in another neighborhood—I was practically in another city.
Rostwyn.
A bustling port city known for controlling several key maritime trade routes. Busy docks, rows of warehouses, the salty breeze from the sea—it had a very different atmosphere from the academy’s cold stone halls.
And more importantly, this was Ryen’s hometown.
The protagonist of this world.
Every weekend, without fail, Ryen returned home to visit his family. And after that, like clockwork, he came to this park to train.
He once said this was the place where he first awakened his talent. Something about the air here helping him focus better.
Just like the novel described.
I spotted him the moment I reached the park.
There he was.
Ryen stood beneath a tree, sword in hand, training alone in the open clearing. His expression was focused, almost stern. His feet were planted firmly, his grip on the hilt solid and steady.
He drew his blade slowly—deliberately—and then struck with sharp precision.
His eyes were closed.
His breath held.
He moved with such purpose, as if even a single tremor would invalidate the entire swing. I didn’t need to be a sword expert to feel the weight of his dedication.
And it wasn’t a flashy move either. Just a simple downward slash.
But maybe that’s what made it impressive.
The simplicity of the motion only made the effort behind it more obvious.
I watched in silence.
Then I saw him stop.
He lowered his sword, brows furrowed, and let out a sigh.
Something wasn’t right. He seemed... frustrated.
Disappointed.
"Ryen."
He was just about to throw another punch when I spoke.
He froze mid-motion, turning toward the voice—my voice. His eyes lit up the second he recognized me, that usual wide grin spreading across his face like always.
"Rin! What are you doing here? Got some business in the area?"
Seriously? That’s the first thing he asks?
Of course, I couldn’t tell him I came here specifically to see him. "Coincidentally," of course.
Truth was, I’d been trying to approach him back at the academy, but that pink-haired yandere always glued herself to him like she was guarding a national treasure. No way I could bring this up with her lurking around. Or Leona, for that matter.
"I had something to take care of nearby," I said casually, glancing around the park like I hadn’t memorized every bench. "Thought I’d stop by before heading back."
He nodded. "Ah, I see. Well, welcome to my hometown."
"I know," I almost said, but caught myself. "Nice place," I offered instead.
Alright. Enough small talk. I didn’t come all the way out here to chat about the weather.
"Hey, since we ran into each other like this, there’s something I wanted to ask."
He tilted his head. "Sure. Ask away."
"You free next week?"
"Huh? Next week... might be tied up on the weekend."
"Not the weekend. Weekdays. It’s about Kiera."
I watched his expression shift—just a subtle change, but I saw it. That frown. That spark of concern. As expected from the protagonist.
"I’ve heard some things. Sounds like the bullying’s gotten worse."
He didn’t say anything right away, but I could tell—he wasn’t taking it lightly.
"...Really?"
"I’m not a hundred percent sure, but it looks serious enough. I figured we could gather a few classmates and go talk to her. You know, let her know she’s not alone."
"That’s a solid idea," he said, nodding. "Having even one person in your corner can mean everything."
Exactly.
"But you think others will be willing to help?" he added.
"I plan to ask around. You’re the first one I wanted to talk to."
"Want me to help with recruiting?"
I hesitated. There it was—the tricky part.
"Yeah, maybe. Just... don’t invite Nora."
He raised a brow. "Why not Nora?"
I tried not to make a face. "She’s... a little intense."
A little?
Okay, very.
Last thing I needed was her showing up and turning the whole thing into some twisted intense moments where Nora would ruined all of my plans.
"C’mon she’s not like that. In fact she is very nice and sweet."
’Yeah, she is but only for you.’
I wanted to say that out loud but I hailed myself back and gave an awkward smile before continuing.
"Yeah but think about. What if she criticized Kiera for her actions. As you know, her tounge is very sharp."
"That’s seems to be possible."
"Yeah, so don’t invite her."
"Okay, I won’t."
Phew, one problem is gone for me.
... Time to deal with bigger problem.