Chapter 17: What exactly did I do?!

Walking out of Miaomiao Bookstore, they once again stepped into the chilly night of the Imperial Capital’s commercial district.

Lily’s final words still echoed in his ears: “So, the extermination of the Raymond Family is riddled with suspicious points. There may be multiple factions involved behind the scenes. If you can avoid getting involved, then don’t.”

This suited Izar perfectly. He was gathering information to better “avoid” trouble, not to “interfere.”

“Senior, do you think… the Raymond Family incident really can’t be separated from that Sith Family?” Luke asked in his uniquely grating falsetto, his scalp tingling. He had clearly picked up on Lily’s hint, but still needed Izar’s “confirmation.”

“Who knows?” Izar (in a girlish voice) lazily waved his hand, completely unconcerned. “There’s too little information right now. Can’t tell what’s real or fake. Besides…”

He paused, then added matter-of-factly, “What does this have to do with us?”

“Huh?” Luke was stunned, nearly choking on his own bizarre voice. “B-but didn’t the Dean tell us to investigate this?”

“Yeah, ‘we’ are investigating.” Izar put extra emphasis on the word “we,” then declared righteously, “But among ‘us,’ isn’t there still Senior Sarah? If the sky falls, the tallest stands under it.”

Luke’s eyes widened; even through the blurry mask, his speechlessness was palpable. “Senior… at least we’re in this together, right? Shouldn’t we at least try to help out a bit? Senior Swan looks so pitiful…”

“Luke, oh Luke!” Izar let out a long sigh in a tone of utter resignation. “You’ve been with me this long, and still haven’t grasped the essence of ‘the Way of Staying Alive’? Always remember our role—ordinary background characters, proper nobodies! Our vocation is to be good ornaments for the big shots: don’t steal the spotlight, don’t stand out, and never voice any opinion that might get us burned!”

He went on earnestly, “This matter is way too deep—clearly, it’s something only a protagonist should handle! With our build, if we force ourselves in, that’s not bravery, it’s courting death! Look at Junior Swan: classic protagonist template—family destroyed, fallen genius, fiancée calls off the engagement! Only people like Lien, Sarah, or Rhea, with protagonist luck, can clear this sort of quest! Us? We’re not even qualified to be the experience points fodder; at best, we’re just casualties caught in the crossfire!”

Having been brainwashed by Izar for so long—and after chewing through two whole “爽文” novels—Luke could barely understand terms like “protagonist template” and “quest,” but the hot-blooded youth’s innate refusal to accept this still lingered in his bones.

“Senior Sarah and Senior Rhea are strong, sure, but Lien’s only a Tier Three Mage, isn’t he? Why is he able?”

“Because he’s the protagonist!” Izar replied, with a certainty as if this were a universal truth.

“But Senior, we’re living in the real world, not some novel story!” Luke tried to argue, even managing to utter something rather philosophical: “Every one of us ought to be the protagonist of our own life!”

Izar: “……”

The corner of his mouth twitched beneath the mask.

This hot-blooded kid could actually say something this deep… What a shame that, damn it, they really were in a “game world” that only looked open, but whose main story was set in stone!

“In my eyes, Senior Izar, you’re not one bit inferior to anyone! You know so much, can make potions and forge magic items, and even improve magic arrays! You’ll always be the best, the greatest—”

Seeing Luke about to launch into another endless round of “idol worship” in that devastating falsetto, Izar hurriedly cut him off. “Stop! That’s enough! It’s fine if you say this to me in private, but don’t you dare praise me like this in front of others!”

He emphasized sternly, “You’re just setting me up for disaster! Only by keeping a low profile can we survive!”

“Senior, you’re just too cautious…” Luke muttered softly, agreeing reluctantly, “Alright, I get it…”

Izar sighed inwardly.

He knew that someone like Luke, so upright and hot-blooded, who truly believed that hard work could change anything, could never fully understand his own survival philosophy—formed from repeated “social beatings” and “system warnings,” and carved deep into his bones.

Still, understanding wasn’t necessary—as long as Luke listened.

As for the Raymond Family mess, Izar had made up his mind to stay out of it.

Let all the attention and all the risk be taken on by the true “protagonists.”

As he calculated the safest, most discreet teleportation route back to the Academy, he pulled Luke along, preparing to take a detour.

Yet fate (or perhaps the author) had no intention of letting him off so easily.

Just as they turned into a more deserted alley, a sudden change erupted!

Boom!

Several deep explosions echoed in the night sky. Beams of magical light of various colors collided and burst overhead, briefly illuminating the dim street.

“Not good!” Izar’s danger sense flared—he instinctively grabbed Luke, ready to use a shadow jump to escape.

But he was still a step too slow.

A figure, trailing chaotic waves of magic, plummeted from above like a broken kite, slamming onto the stone pavement not far ahead of them with a heavy thud, raising a cloud of dust.

It all happened too fast. In the darkness, Luke curiously poked his head out to see which unlucky soul it was.

But Izar, thanks to his system-buffed stats and years of caution, had already recognized the newcomer—

Swan! The new junior, bearing the “protagonist template,” who was supposed to be recuperating in the Academy!

Izar’s heart skipped a beat!

He yanked the still-peeking Luke back, clapping a hand firmly over his mouth, ready to bolt at any moment.

What’s going on?! Izar howled inwardly.

Wasn’t Swan supposedly crippled by magic corruption, barely able to use mana?

What was he doing fighting in the sky at midnight?!

No—more accurately, not fighting, but being one-sidedly beaten.

Next, two figures landed lightly—a fat one and a thin one, not wearing any Academy uniforms, but looking like thuggish street muscle.

The fat man spat and snarled viciously at Swan, who was curled on the ground: “Swan! You know damn well why the Raymond Family was wiped out! What face do you have, still hanging around the Empire? Why aren’t you dead in some gutter already?!”

Izar, hiding in the shadows, was full of doubt.

These two didn’t seem like Academy people—more like hired goons of some noble house.

They actually dared beat up the new apprentice of Dean Claire, right near Starshine Academy?

Didn’t they know Claire was famously protective and proud?

The thin one stepped up as well, kicking Swan—hard enough to hurt, but not fatal—his tone dripping with contempt. “Fight back! Trash! Stop pretending! The whole territory’s dead, so why are you the only one left? Huh? Speak up!”

Swan just hugged his head tighter, curling up and letting the blows rain down, not making a sound—not even the faintest hint of mana use—as if resigned to his fate.

Everyone dead except him?

Izar caught that detail, his mind spinning.

Could these two be survivors from the Raymond territory, or people related to the family, now focusing all their grief and rage on Swan, the sole survivor?

Just as Izar was trying to untangle the logic behind the chaos, that fate-weaving system’s cold, timely prompt sounded in his mind:

[Divine Choice System at your service. Host, please make a decision promptly.]

[Option 1: As a senior of Starshine Academy, uphold the Academy’s creed of unity and friendship, step forward and save your junior from disaster, shining the light of justice. Difficulty: S. Reward: Protagonist Value +10]

[Option 2: Walk the villain’s path, act recklessly! Join the beating, let Swan fully taste the world’s cruelty, maybe even extract a secret. Difficulty: S. Reward: Villain Value +10]

[Option 3: You’re just an innocent passerby, deeply regretful but powerless to help—leaving quietly is the wise move. Difficulty: E. Reward: NPC Value +10]

E-rank! Safe!

Izar hesitated not for a second. Go! Leave, right now!

Sorry, Swan, it’s not that your senior lacks loyalty, but anything concerning you is way too dangerous!

Your “protagonist template” calamity should be solved by a “protagonist”!

He grabbed Luke, preparing to sneak away along the shadowy edge.

But just as he turned, disaster struck again!

The fat man, either tired from beating or still unsatisfied, suddenly grinned maliciously and pulled out a long sword glittering coldly from his back.

A surge of powerful energy burst from him—clearly a martial arts practitioner.

“Damn it, let’s see how long you play dead!” The fat man roared, swinging his sword. A blade of solidified energy ripped through the air, shrieking as it slashed straight for the defenseless Swan!

This blow was clearly aimed to kill!

Someone’s going to die!

That thought flashed through Izar’s mind like lightning.

And in that split-second, Izar’s body moved.

Fast! Faster than his mind could process!

As if imprinted deep within his soul—a reflexive reaction to seeing a murder on the street—or maybe it was just the absurdly boosted [Agility] and [Reflex] stats erupting instinctively under crisis!

Whoosh—

A blur clad in [Shadow Veil] shot from the darkness like a ghost, intercepting the deadly sword aura before it could reach Swan!

No dazzling magic, no earth-shaking presence.

Under Luke’s shocked (and somewhat awestruck) gaze, and in the stunned eyes of the two thugs, a hand stretched from within the Shadow Veil—five fingers spread wide—caught the fierce blade perfectly.

Puff—

A soft sound, like a bubble bursting.

That sword energy, strong enough to shatter stone, crumbled like glass in that palm, scattering into countless motes of light and vanishing without a trace.

The night wind swept down the alley, stirring a few fallen leaves.

The whole scene fell into dead silence.

Only Izar (in his girlish voice) let out a silent, hopeless wail inside:

“It’s over! My hand moved too fast! System, I chose Option 3!

That was a reflex! It doesn’t count!!”

…..