The scent of fried rice hit him like heaven.
Nox sat at the corner of a small carinderia, the kind with plastic stools and a humming fan that barely worked. His plate was simple—fried rice, two eggs, and a small piece of tapa—but to him, it was a feast worthy of kings.
He'd already paid for the first tutoring session in advance — ₱1,000 sitting in his wallet.
For the first time in days, he wasn't calculating how long a packet of instant noodles could last.
Each bite felt like resurrection. His hands trembled slightly as the warmth spread through his body, the familiar low buzz of hunger finally dimming.
> [STAMINA +0.2]
[Current STAMINA: 3.7]
He chuckled quietly. "So even my stomach listens to the System now, huh?"
The world seemed a little sharper after eating — colors brighter, sounds clearer. The exhaustion that had clung to him for weeks began to fade. He was ready.
He paid, stood, and began walking toward the same mansion he'd entered the day before.
---
The Agunza residence was just as pristine and intimidating.
But this time, the guards didn't look at him with suspicion. They knew his face.
The iron gates opened silently, and the same maid from before waited near the entryway — petite, neatly dressed, and wordless.
She bowed slightly, gesturing for him to follow.
"Miss Agunza is at her office," the maid said quietly. "She instructed that you go straight to Miss Anna's room."
"Alright," he replied.
Her tone was neutral — professional, but not unkind. Yet as they walked through the mansion, Nox noticed something peculiar.
When they passed the second floor landing, she stopped before a closed door and placed a tray of food on the floor. Then, without knocking, she turned to leave.
"You're not delivering it to her?" Nox asked.
The maid hesitated, eyes flickering toward the door before quickly lowering them. "Miss Anna… prefers not to be disturbed."
Then she walked away, footsteps fading into silence.
He looked down at the untouched meal — still warm, untouched.
"Locked in her own castle," he murmured.
---
He stood before the door, listening.
No movement. No sound. Just a faint hum from within — maybe music, maybe silence pretending to be noise.
He knocked lightly.
"Anna? I'm Nox Ando — your new Calculus tutor."
Silence.
He waited, then knocked again, firmer this time. "Your mother hired me to help you pass. I'm not here to scold you."
Still no reply.
He sighed softly. "Alright, I'll just wait here until you get bored of ignoring me."
He leaned against the wall, glancing at the closed door again. Eye of Truth — activate.
A soft shimmer passed through his vision, revealing the faint outline of energy behind the wood. The System flickered to life.
> [Target: Anna Agunza]
INT: 5.0 | STA: 4.0 | WILL: 8.5
Status: Emotional Lockdown
Core Conflict: Desire for Attention and Creative Outlet
Current Emotion: Withdrawal / Defensive Curiosity (14%)
He exhaled slowly. "High Willpower, low focus. She's not lazy — she's tired of pretending."
He stepped closer to the door, lowering his voice.
"You know," he said gently, "I don't really care about your grades."
The silence changed.
He felt it — the air behind the door shifting slightly, like a held breath.
"I care about what you want," he continued. "Because Calculus won't give you meaning unless you're trying to build something of your own."
Still no answer, but he felt her presence near the door now.
He smiled faintly. "When I was in college, I hated math. It was just numbers, equations, all screaming for attention. Then I realized — they're not rules. They're… doors. Once you open them, they stop being walls."
There was a faint sound — a small click.
The lock.
---
The door creaked open just enough for him to see a sliver of the room.
Dark curtains blocked most of the sunlight. The faint blue glow of a monitor illuminated scattered sketchbooks and half-finished paintings on the floor.
Anna Agunza stood by the edge of the bed — oversized hoodie, messy hair, sharp eyes dulled by boredom.
She looked at him like someone forced to watch a commercial in the middle of her favorite show.
"You talk too much," she muttered.
"Occupational hazard," he replied with a grin.
Her gaze flicked to him, skeptical. "You're not like the others."
"I hope not," he said lightly. "The others probably started with, 'I'll help you pass.' I'm starting with, 'Let's find out why you even want to.'"
Her lips twitched — not a smile, but not indifference either. "My mom sent you, didn't she?"
"She hired me, yeah. But I came here for you."
She tilted her head, crossing her arms. "Big words for a guy wearing ₱200 shoes."
He laughed softly. "Then maybe you should listen. I might have worked harder than you think to afford them."
Her eyes lingered a moment longer, then she stepped back. "Fine. Come in. But if you bore me, I'm locking this door again."
"Deal," he said.
---
The room smelled faintly of paint and dust.
A canvas sat in the corner, half-covered by a cloth. The sketch on it was beautiful — a figure standing under a collapsing sky.
"Did you draw that?" he asked.
She shrugged. "Yeah. It's… nothing."
"Looks like something," he replied, placing his bag down. "But alright. We'll call it nothing for now."
He opened his notebook and began to write a simple equation.
"Let's start with limits," he said.
She groaned. "Boring."
"I thought so too," he said, still writing. "But here's a thought — limits are the language of control. You don't know how fast something grows until you set a boundary."
That made her pause.
He turned the notebook toward her. "So, if you're an artist, limits aren't rules. They're perspective."
For a brief moment, her eyes actually followed the equation. He could see her brain shift gears — curiosity flickering through the apathy.
"So… you're saying Calculus is just… pattern art?"
"Exactly," he said, smiling. "Except you draw with numbers."
---
An hour passed quietly.
She didn't smile. She didn't laugh.
But she didn't walk away either.
Every time she asked a question, he answered it simply — no lectures, no showing off. Just understanding.
When she couldn't follow, he simplified further, using sketches instead of equations, metaphors instead of pressure.
By the end of the session, she leaned slightly forward — elbows on knees, chin resting on her hand.
"You really think this crap connects to… art?"
"I think everything connects to something," he said. "It's just a matter of seeing the pattern."
She hummed softly, then stood up. "You're weird."
"I get that a lot."
She crossed her arms, eyes darting toward him, then away. "Fine. Come back tomorrow. But… bring food next time. Something good. Mom's diet meals are depressing."
He blinked. "You want to eat together?"
"Don't push it," she muttered, but there was the faintest grin tugging at her lips.
Then she turned away, pulling the curtains slightly open — for the first time, letting sunlight touch her face.
---
As Nox left the room, he glanced back once. The door didn't close all the way this time.
He smiled faintly. A crack. That's all I need.
He walked down the marble hall quietly, passing the maid who gave him a quick, surprised glance — maybe noticing the small shift in air around Anna's door.
Outside, the evening breeze brushed against his face. He felt tired but light, his heart steady.
Then, the familiar sound echoed faintly in his head:
> [Quest Progress: The Student of Shadows – 12%]
[Relationship Parameter: Trust (Anna) +0.5]
He chuckled softly, staring up at the sky.
"System," he whispered, "if you're listening — I think I like this kind of battle."