Friday, June 4th.
On his way to school, Cass wiped the thin layer of sweat from his forehead and neck with a tissue, glaring discontentedly at the sun in the sky. “It’s so hot. I’d rather be fighting monsters in a dungeon; the plains on the second floor are much cooler.”
The constant flow of magic within dungeons kept the temperature comfortable and stable, with no worries about being too cold or too warm. Thinking this, Cass shook his head in disbelief. “I’m actually jealous of a sword.” Envying Hertanid for being cool in summer, and seemingly expanding its space as magic power grew, making it a rather comfortable place to live.
Only five days remained until the day of departure.
Cass had finally reached LV26. His teammates Bried and Kersey were LV25 and LV24 respectively. This was likely their limit. Despite only coordinating three times, they had managed to move their experience bars by grinding at the scraping points on the second floor provided by Siloque. They did this from eight to ten in the evening, during the less busy hours at Kersey’s shop, squeezing in just two hours.
The Minotaurs at night were truly terrifying. Their eyes glowed red as if possessed by evil spirits, their combat desire was high, and their attacks became more frenzied and ferocious. A single graze could mean serious injury. Just the wind from their axe blades scraping against stone would leave cracks. Fortunately, there were no Spiritual Entities among the enemies. Recalling how he and his teammates worked together to defeat them filled him with a sense of accomplishment from overcoming a strong foe.
Cass swiped the screen of his Ring Chart to check LINE. He had told Siloque about reaching LV26 yesterday, and Siloque had only just replied. The reply was just two lines: “Not bad, Cass. I knew you could do it. To reach this level when experience points are gradually becoming scarce on the second floor—you truly are a chosen one.”
So cold. Knowing it was impossible, Cass couldn’t help but fantasize about Siloque sending words filled with longing, like “I’m looking forward to seeing you again” or “Want to go see a movie?” Knowing it was impossible, couldn’t Cass just be happy?
“Hmph, right, right. I’m just a ‘same-sex’ friend, after all, definitely no match for a ‘girlfriend.’ He must be looking at LINE every day, grinning foolishly while having lively chats with her.” Cass felt somewhat resigned. “Hah.” His nose itched, and his chest throbbed with a dull ache. “Idiot. Narcissistic idiot, Siloque.”
Anyway, in just five days, he would see him again (hopefully). Finally, the days of using couple photos as a substitute would end. He had to make sure Siloque was utterly amazed by his growth. Maybe then he’d agree to go out with him again. Hope rekindled in his heart. Casually, Cass flipped to his chat with Hill. The timestamp was from two days ago, with no new messages. At this hour, she was probably still asleep.
“Sigh, I really envy Hill.” She had a sleepover, used her little sister privileges to make Siloque wear silk pajamas, and reportedly even tied his hair into twin tails. He desperately wanted to see it, was incredibly curious. So curious that he even tied Hertanid’s hair into twin tails and changed her outfits more frequently than before, which resulted in her scolding him: “I am not a toy for thee to dispel thy loneliness. Do not disturb my rest.” Cass could only appease her with more bananas. No matter how much he asked Hill, she refused to send the photos, even though she had definitely taken them.
“Sigh.” It felt like these days without seeing Siloque were increasing his sighing frequency. Would happiness just slip away like this? “Mmm… Maybe I should just ask Hyder to find me a hacker to break into Hill’s phone and get the photos.”
Just as Cass was half-seriously, half-jokingly thinking this, he suddenly heard a woman’s piercing scream.
“Kyaaah!! Stop—!!”
What’s happening? Cass immediately ran along the asphalt road toward the sound. Was it because of the exam period? This street seemed to have only him on it right now. Of all times, just him alone? Maybe it was the influence of hanging around Siloque, but lately Cass felt he had become a bit more suspicious, a bit too self-conscious.
Suppressing the doubt in his heart, he arrived at the corner of an alley entrance; the source of the sound was inside. In the past, he would have charged right in, but now Cass first pressed against the wall and peeked around to observe.
To be precise, it was one person versus a group. The one person was a young girl. Pressed against the wall with nowhere left to retreat, her shoulder-length flaxen hair was soft and fluffy. Her large, watery eyes were as cute as a small animal’s. She, too, trembled like a small animal, shrinking in fear as she stared terrified at the group before her.
There were far more of them; counting, there were eight. The leader was a man with a floral shirt and tanned skin. He had unbuttoned his shirt sleeves, revealing a sturdy chest. A gold chain hung around his neck, and his earlobes glittered—probably with earrings. His hair under a baseball cap was dyed green. Let’s call him Green-Hair for now. The other seven were males around his age. Some held small knives, others held things like steel pipes, which could collectively be called “weapons.”
These bastards! What kind of joke is this? One-sided bullying is unacceptable. It didn’t seem like an ambush. There was only one camera, and it had black tape stuck over it. Just as Cass was judging whether to fight with the back or the edge of his blade, Green-Hair spoke first:
“We’re just asking you to have some tea with us. Boring stuff like school, it’s fine if you skip it.” He thumped his right fist against the wall to the right of the girl, blocking her escape. His left hand took on a creeping gesture, moving toward the girl’s chest.
Cass shouted at them, his magic power already gathered, ready to draw Wraithblade at any moment. “Stop! What are you doing!”
His mother, Vitoris, might have chosen to watch until the end, but Cass wouldn’t. What he couldn’t stand, he simply couldn’t stand. “A group of men bullying one girl, aren’t you ashamed?” Cass’s righteous voice echoed in the alley. He glared at them, and for a moment, the men’s gazes focused on Cass. With so many people crammed in the alley, Cass almost saw heat haze mirages.
“Brat, what’s it to you?” Green-Hair, seeing his fun interrupted, wore an expression of irritation on his sweat-beaded, tense face.
“Hyah!” The girl let out a sharp shout, startling everyone. “Huh! Hey, you bitch—!”
Seizing the opportunity, she shoved Green-Hair away, swiftly slipped through a gap in the crowd, and came behind Cass. She pressed close to his back, pulling on his clothes as if he were her savior. “M-My name is Agota Bal. P-Please, save me! I don’t know them at all. They suddenly dragged me to a place like this, insisting on taking me for tea. I really don’t want to go.” Agota clung pitifully to Cass, trembling like a frightened squirrel.
“Don’t worry, I won’t let them hurt you.” Trying his best to shield Agota, Cass stared with a firm, cold gaze at the eight men before him. He felt a slight sense of incongruity about Agota: judging by the uniform style, she was a student of the National Explorers Academy. Her entire escape process had been quite fast; her movements were pretty good. She should have had the ability to fight or at least run.
“Miss Bal, my name is Cass Benor. You should go first. I’ll hold them off here.” Cass kept a close watch on every move of the eight men.
“I’m sorry! That was my full effort to escape just now. Now… now I can’t move anymore.”
I see. After all, not every girl craves battle. Not every girl in the academy is a close-combat expert, like Kersey. Just as he himself was afraid of ghosts, perhaps Agota could have run at first, but momentary fear clouded her judgment. Indeed, he had become overly suspicious lately, even doubting the victim.
“Understood. If you’re scared, you can close your eyes.” Cass spoke calmly to Agota.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Agota, clinging tightly to his back, was wearing the long-sleeved winter uniform jacket. Wasn’t she hot? Cass, in his short-sleeved uniform, was sweating constantly. Just looking at her made him feel hot. But Agota’s face showed no sweat either. Maybe her constitution was just prone to feeling cold.
One of the eight men spoke up. “There are still people who like to play the hero these days. It’s not too late to beg for mercy now. Scramming is also a good choice.”
“Yeah, yeah.” “So ridiculous.” “You think this is a manga?” The others joined in, jeering and laughing.
Cass’s tolerance for annoyance skyrocketed. He stared at them quietly. He’d deal with these guys in front of him first. “How about you all obediently turn yourselves in at the police station? I don’t want to waste time.”
“Tch! I hate pretentious hero-wannabe idiots like you the most.” In response to Cass’s words, Green-Hair spat, cracking his knuckles. He rushed forward, closing the distance to about a meter from Cass. He swayed side to side, adopting a boxer’s feinting stance. “Say goodbye to that pretty face of yours!!”
While Cass’s eyes were following his swaying movements, Green-Hair’s right hook shot toward Cass’s nose.