The morning arrived faster than I expected.
Even though I had said and done all those things before, once I showered and cooled down—
Well, let’s just say things were very awkward, and I couldn’t sleep a wink.
The worst part was I didn’t even get the luxury of dwelling on it for long.
Because the moment I stepped outside the first-year dorm—
— "Hey, isn’t that Apex?"
— "Yeah, he looks so good with his haircut."
— "I think my day is already made."
— "Wait, isn’t that Sylvia next to him?"
— "Are they fighting?"
Well, technically I’m not, but she is.
After dungeon survival classes yesterday—and the first few awkward minutes—Quincy and I had gone to our separate rooms in the dorms.
And my foolish brain just had to replay the day’s events.
After that, I couldn’t even work up the courage to step out again because of how cringeworthy it all felt.
Lesson learned: when you do something ridiculous, don’t brood over it afterward.
Unfortunately for me, Quincy had immediately rushed to Sylvia’s room to spill everything.
Yes. Every. Single. Damn. Thing.
She didn’t leave a detail out, and of course Sylvia, who already disliked Quincy, was furious.
Mostly because she wanted me to ask her out first. Now, if something happened between us, it would look like she was the mistress.
Stretching out my hand to tap her, I called, "Hey, Sylvia." Read complete version only at noⅴelfire.net
Sylvia swatted my hand away.
Her crystalline eyes seemed colder than usual, and her face showed no expression.
’Come on, Kim Jin-ah, you’re not actually a teenager.’
Sylvia didn’t even glance at me. She just stood by the roadside, waiting for her taxi.
’God... I knew this was going to be awkward, but this is—’
"Sylvia, are you agitated?"
The young woman shot me a look, her foot tapping steadily against the ground.
This was one of her irritating habits—the same one that almost cost her life after noona had tampered with the glass.
She’d been so restless that day she fell two stories when it shattered.
Sylvia turned away, raising her scarf to cover her mouth before crossing the road.
’Why is she so stubborn?’
I crossed after her, matching her pace.
She stopped. I halted too.
"Stop following me!" she snapped, whipping her head back at me.
Her gaze lingered for a moment before she looked away. "Humph... Pervert."
Somebody just bury me.
Whoever said having a harem was easy?
One relationship was already difficult—two were a nightmare.
"Come on, Sylvia, can’t we just talk this out?"
"I said NO. I don’t want to talk to a guy who promises one girl something, then goes and nearly sleeps with another girl he also likes—knowing full well the first girl doesn’t like the second."
I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Then what do you want?"
The black-haired woman stopped short. "Will you break up with Quincy, ask me out first, and then ask her out second?"
She lifted her hand, cutting me off. "Excuses!"
She stepped closer, pressing a finger against my chest as her gaze locked onto mine.
"I asked you to ask me out, but you said nothing. Then you just folded in front of Quincy. Is she prettier than me?"
I had said I would ask her out—but that was after I found out about my future.
Now what was I supposed to do?
Solve both problems at once?
There were countless ways, but...
"Quincy is my childhood friend, so..."
Sylvia’s expression darkened, her lips curling to reveal a hint of teeth as she raised her chin in a scowl. "Do you take me for a fool?"
She cut me off again, blurting without thinking.
"Tch... Don’t act like you know her. You didn’t even grow up with Quincy, you’re just a transmigra—"
Her eyes widened as the word caught in her throat.
Realizing what she’d nearly revealed, she slapped a palm over her mouth.
I arched a brow. "Transmigrator?"
Sylvia stiffened, taking a cautious step back. "No that’s..."
Then she jabbed me lightly in the chest with her fist. "See what you made me say?"
Sylvia looked up, fiddling with the hem of her blazer. "I was going to tell you anyway, so..."
She glanced at me, scratching her head. "Ugh, this is so damn irritating."
Suddenly, she stomped her foot against the pavement, as if to crack it. "Allen, you’re such a fool!"
Grabbing my hand, she started dragging me along.
"How many classes do you have today?"
Still dazed, I replied, "One. Evening."
Adjusting her scarf with her other hand, she said, "I think it’s time I tell you."
What about the system restriction?
She puffed her cheeks and looked back at me. "Have you ever played ’Charades’?"
Oh! That’s actually genius.
She smirked. "I’ll tell you a story using that. Hope you’re not bad at handling a little alcohol?"
After Sylvia finished speaking, we walked toward the nearest convenience store without exchanging a word.
That silence gave me plenty of time to sort through my thoughts.
I had wanted information from her, sure — but I never expected it to come this easily.
Was it because she was jealous? Trying to one-up Quincy in my "rankings" by unloading a secret?
’Girls are terrifying.’
Still, information was information.
All’s well that ends well, I guess.
Of course, I wasn’t about to tell her about my own past life.
Love was just another emotion, after all. It could fade.
Which meant until I was completely certain she was on my side, I had no intention of confessing.
How would she earn that trust, you ask?
Well, even I wasn’t sure.
I’m a confused guy — sometimes spoiled, sometimes bratty... So honestly, I had no idea when I’d finally trust her.
But somehow, I had a feeling she’d manage it.
I rubbed my chin thoughtfully. ’Maybe I actually want to tell her... and I’m just looking for an excuse to sound rational.’
Lowering my gaze, I found Sylvia crouched below a shelf, rummaging through bottles.
She looked me dead in the eyes with a straight face.
"Should I get protection?"
My face went blank. "Why would you need that?"
She formed a circle with her fingers and moved it back and forth near her lips.
"You know what I mean."
Still holding the crate, I turned away. "Sir, this is all we’re taking!"
She scoffed. "Such a buzzkill. A girl as gorgeous as me throws herself at you, and you don’t even get tempted?"
I ignored her and moved toward the counter to pay.
Sylvia leaned in closer, lowering her voice. "So... have you ever been on the Eiffel Tower?"
I shot her a side glance, then looked toward the old man who shuffled into the back room.
She grinned. "Me too. Went there while chasing a thief."
I nodded, though I already knew that story all too well.
"Was that the thief you liked before me?"
She shrugged, sighing. "That idiot was so dense he didn’t even realize I liked him until his death. Bet he had a tiny pipi."
I squeezed my eyes shut. ’Thanks for the compliment, Kim Jin-ah.’
She rested an elbow on the counter, muttering with a soft smile. "But... he had the cutest, most narcissistic reactions."
Her finger pointed straight at me. "Just like you."
She kept staring ahead as the shop owner reappeared, her breath fogging in the cold air. "Honestly, if you told me you were him, I wouldn’t even be shocked."
Then, almost too quietly, she added, "You two are really similar. But if it was him... I think he would’ve destroyed this world, the same way he started the Third World War."
I started the Third World War?
’Hehehe... yet another great achievement for my résumé.’
However... now, I was curious.
Not about how I rose as a villain in whatever story Jin-ah had read.
But about what transpired after my death.
What became of the world I left behind...
And what kind of legacy had I really left behind?