It's been a week... how can someone possibly be so relentless?
Simon's eyes stared blankly at the chalkboard in magical theory class, the professor's words dissolving into meaningless noise. Dark circles shadowed his face like bruises, testament to seven sleepless nights of torment.
Who would have thought I'd end up sharing almost every class with this bastard? The irony wasn't lost on him—in an academy this vast, somehow fate had conspired to place him in Alexander's orbit almost every single time.
So needy... I regret everything. Every single choice that led me to become this bastard's slave.
A chill ran down his spine as he felt that familiar, predatory gaze boring into his back. Without turning around, Simon knew Alexander was watching him with those cold, calculating eyes—savoring every moment of his suffering like a connoisseur appreciating fine wine.
Damn it... damn it all. To think I even shed tears for that monster.
The memory burned through him: that moment of weakness when he'd actually felt pity for Alexander, when he'd allowed himself to believe there might be something human beneath that cruel exterior. The shame of it made his stomach churn.
Though... Simon's analytical mind couldn't help but note the inconsistencies. Sometimes I catch him looking almost... confused?
Professor Veltor's sharp voice suddenly cut through the drowsy atmosphere. The elderly instructor looked as haggard as his pupils, dark circles etched deep beneath his eyes, his usually pristine appearance disheveled.
"Next week marks the beginning of your evaluations."
The room stirred, students straightening despite their fatigue.
"The First Trial commences in seven days. You'll be entering the Blackwood Dungeon—a Raven-level assessment suitable for newcomers and..." His gaze swept across the room dismissively. "...those lacking in natural talent."
Simon winced at the casual insult, but Veltor continued without pause.
"Your advancement depends entirely on your performance against the creatures within. The hierarchy is straightforward: excel against E and D rank monsters, advance to Dire Wolf rank. Prove yourself against C through B rank monsters, and Ravenger status awaits. Only those capable of facing A-rank threats will achieve Goblin rank."
His weathered finger traced along the chalkboard. "In rare instances, exceptional students advance an entire rank during a single trial."
Exceptional students... Simon's gaze drifted across the classroom, settling on Princess Lyralei near the front. Golden hair caught the morning light streaming through tall windows, orange eyes framed by delicate red freckles focused intently on the professor.
The only one who actually managed to advance during the first trial in the game. Her royal bloodline was more than political positioning—she wielded four distinct magical elements with terrifying proficiency. In a world where most mages struggled to master even one element, her quad-elemental mastery made her a prodigy among students.
And with the succession laws as they are, this Academy rank might be her only path to the throne.
Simon's expression darkened as fragments of memory flickered through his mind. Not that it'll matter in the end. He'd seen how this story played out—Liam collecting women like trophies, the princess falling for his charisma, trading her ambitions for a hollow crown.
At least she seemed happy enough in the game... even if she never got to actually rule anything.
"Now, the trial requirements," Veltor continued, his voice taking on a harder edge. "You'll be divided into groups of four. Each team must collect a minimum of five monster gems—E-rank or D-rank, grade is irrelevant. Only quantity matters."
He paused, allowing the weight to settle.
"How you obtain these gems..." A cold smile crossed his weathered features. "That is entirely at your discretion."
The professor's expression darkened. "Failure to meet this minimum results in immediate expulsion. No exceptions. No second chances."
Ah. Simon understood perfectly. Teams would turn on each other without hesitation, stealing gems from weaker groups rather than face the monsters. This wasn't just about combat—it was about survival in every sense.
And knowing Alexander, he's probably already planning to make other teams do his dirty work for him.
"Groups get assigned tomorrow," Veltor announced, gathering his materials. "Prepare accordingly."
As excited chatter filled the classroom, Simon felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see Hunter, his roommate, grinning optimistically despite the dark circles under his eyes.
"Yo, I hope we end up together for this," Hunter said, "Though honestly, I'm still struggling with water manipulation. Seven days to get my flow control down—think that's enough time?"
Simon managed a weak smile. "Yeah, hopefully we team up." At least Hunter can actually use magic. Seven days left and I still can't cast a single spell properly.
"Well, well, Simon."
The voice dripped with false friendliness as Alexander's arm snaked around his shoulders. Simon's body tensed involuntarily, but he forced himself to remain still.
"Excited for the trials next week?"
Alexander's cronies, Alvin and Elian, materialized on either side like trained dogs responding to their master's whistle. The synchronization was almost impressive in its predictability.
Does he actually practice these dramatic entrances? Simon wondered with weary irritation. Seven days of this theatrical bullshit...
"I'm sure you'll do just fine," Alexander continued, his voice carrying that insufferable smugness. "After all, you've been such a... dedicated student lately."
Simon caught something in Alexander's tone—a hesitation, like he was reciting lines he didn't quite believe. There it is again. That uncertainty.
Hunter shifted uncomfortably, clearly wanting to escape whatever this was about to become.
"Of course," Simon replied flatly, too exhausted to muster even basic interest in whatever power play this was supposed to be.
The corridor narrowed near the far stairwell as students dispersed. Soon, only Simon, Alexander, and the ever-present shadows of Alvin and Elian remained. Hunter had mercifully found an excuse to disappear.
Simon barely had time to brace himself before a hand shoved him hard against the wall.
"Alright, here's the deal," Alexander said, stepping into his space. His voice carried that same wooden quality—like he was reading from a script. "You're going to keep being useful, and you're going to do it without whining."
Same routine. Same sick rhythm. Simon looked up slowly, studying Alexander's face. But why do I keep looking for something else there?
"Prep our supplies for the trial. Do it quietly. No weird remarks, no hesitation." Alexander's voice grew harsher, more stilted. "You exist to follow orders, Simon. Nothing more."
Simon dropped to his knees with theatrical resignation.
"Of course. The proud beast tames the lowly mutt. I'm practically a mascot by now."
It was sarcasm, but delivered without venom. Alexander stared down at him, seeming to wrestle with whether to feel insulted or flattered. As always, he chose the latter—but Simon caught the brief moment of confusion first.
Interesting.
They led him toward the back field behind the Academy, past abandoned training grounds and old spell-warded archery targets. The wind was still, sky overcast. No staff, no students around.
He's predictable. That's what makes this... manageable. Simon's analytical mind filed away every detail. It's just ego feeding. That's all this is.
Then he heard a familiar voice. Soft. Feminine.
"Liam, wait—don't forget this."
Simon recognized her instantly. Green hair half-tied back, bundle of scrolls clutched to her chest. Sylvara Ainsley—one of the few commoners who'd gotten in through pure intellect rather than lineage.
Right. The nerdy one. Pretty useless in the game, but...
Liam stood beside her, posture relaxed, hands in his pockets. That calm, default confidence that only protagonists could wear like armor.
Well, even though we've never talked, Liam, hopefully we can chat sometime. Please just ignore us and move on.
But Alexander saw them too.
And changed course.
Simon's blood chilled. No. Not here. Don't—
"Hey," Alexander called out, his voice taking on that artificial charm. "You're wasting your time hanging around him. Someone like you deserves better company."
Sylvara's brows furrowed. "I'm fine, thank you."
Alexander didn't stop. He closed the distance, lifting his hand to brush her arm.
Liam moved.
Liam prepared to punch. "Take your hand off her."
Alexander's smirk looked forced now. "And if I don't?"
I might actually die, either from these attacks or from this absolutely terrible dialogue. Seriously, why did I transmigrate into a world with such shitty writing?
Simon dropped to his knees dramatically, clasping his hands together. "Oh please, master Alexander, surely your noble blood wouldn't stoop to such—"
"SHUT UP!" Alexander snapped, but Simon caught the flicker of relief in his eyes. Like he was grateful for the interruption.
The first punch came fast.
Liam's fist connected with Alexander's jaw, sending him stumbling backward. Alvin and Elian immediately lunged forward, and the quiet field erupted into chaos.
Simon saw Elian's fist coming toward his face—a wild swing meant to clear him out of the way.
[All requirements met]
[Talent Unlocked: Punching Bag]
[Description: Survive exactly one hit from any new enemy per encounter]
The notification flashed just as knuckles connected with his cheek. The impact sent him sprawling, but somehow it didn't hurt as much as it should have.
Well, that's... convenient.
He scrambled backward, trying to stay out of the melee as bodies collided around him. But as he watched the fight unfold, his eyes widened in surprise.
Alexander and his cronies were holding their own. More than holding their own—they were matching Liam blow for blow.
When did they get this strong?
The fight escalated rapidly. Liam's hands blazed with complex fire magic, flames spiraling in intricate patterns. Alexander responded with sophisticated earth magic, stone spikes erupting in precise geometric arrays.
Simon pressed himself against a tree, heart hammering as he tried to process what he was seeing.
Then, without warning, three figures materialized from thin air.
Knights in gleaming armor, moving with inhuman precision.
Everyone froze.
The first knight—tall, imposing—pressed his blade against Liam's throat before the protagonist could react. "Easy there, fire boy."
The second knight had somehow gotten behind Alvin and Elian simultaneously, his arms around both their necks. Elian struggled frantically while Alvin just went limp, muttering, "There's no point resisting."
The third knight stood directly in front of Alexander, and Simon's blood ran cold at what he saw.
A pistol. An ornate, ivory-white flintlock with intricate engravings along its barrel, pointed directly at Alexander's head. The weapon looked like something from centuries past—elegant, deadly, and completely out of place in this magical world.
Since when do guns exist in this world?
Alexander's entire body began to tremble. Sweat poured down his face, his usual arrogance completely shattered. His eyes darted between the weapon and the knight's face, wide with terror and something else—recognition?
"Calm down and breathe," the third knight said, his voice unnaturally gentle. "Why do you look so frightened? Like you've seen a demon."
Alexander's mouth opened but no words came out. His breathing was shallow, erratic.
"Tell me, noble child—though you call yourself that, you don't act like one." The knight's tone remained conversational, almost soothing. "Do you know what this is pointed at your head?"
"I... I don't..." Alexander stammered, his voice barely a whisper.
"Lloyd, stop it," the second knight called out, maintaining his hold on the cronies.
Liam's eyes widened despite the blade at his throat. "Wait... I recognize you. You're the Dark Comet, aren't you? The legendary force for the kingdom?"
Dark Comet? Simon's mind raced. He'd never heard that name before—not in the game, not in any background lore.
"Why are you here?" Liam managed to ask.
"We came to see the headmaster," Lloyd replied, never taking his eyes off Alexander. "Just stumbled upon this little... display."
[Mission 2 Unlocked]
[Investigate: Dark Comet]
[Description: Discover the true nature and purpose of the legendary force]
Simon blinked as the notification appeared. He glanced at the three armored figures, then back at the system message.
Even if I can't trust you completely, he thought, addressing the system, I have to admit I'm curious too.
But his attention was drawn back to Alexander, who was staring at the gun with a look of absolute terror.
"Interesting," Lloyd murmured, studying Alexander's reaction. "Very interesting indeed."
Lloyd slowly lowered the weapon, holstering it with practiced ease. Alexander's trembling didn't stop, but his breathing began to even out slightly.
"That's enough for today," Lloyd said, his voice returning to a more neutral tone. "Consider this a warning. All of you."
The three knights stepped back in unison, their movements eerily synchronized.
"The headmaster is expecting us," the first knight announced. "We'll leave you to... reflect on your choices."