Chapter Seventeen – Rewriting the Script
(Tokito's Room)
Everyone had returned yesterday.
The phrase "returned" felt inadequate. They hadn't returned from a picnic. They had stumbled back into the academy's sterile embrace like shipwreck survivors washing onto a cold, unwelcoming shore.
(Sasuke) went to the hospital.
He had been patched up in the academy's medical wing for his superficial cuts, bruises, and the deep, aching contusion on his stomach. The healers had given him a skeptical look—D-Rank missions weren't supposed to result in these kinds of injuries—but processed him without comment after he mumbled something about a "training accident in the forest."
While (Tokito) bid (Kanami) farewell and asked him to rest before he left.
Their parting had been wordless, a mutual nod loaded with unspoken questions and simmering suspicion. Kanami's green eyes had held a sharp, analytical light, but he had simply turned and walked towards his own dormitory block, his bag of weapons slightly lighter.
In the end, (Tokito) remained yesterday in his room, looking at the wall while writing and gathering things in his special notebook.
The notebook. His bible of spoilers, now potentially obsolete. He sat at the small, scarred desk, the cheap desk lamp casting a yellow pool of light on the open page. The pen felt heavy in his hand.
Scratch. Scratch.
In the end, he could only sigh when he saw the clock turning to 8:00 PM.
He didn't go to dinner. His stomach was a knot of nausea, and the thought of the crowded, noisy cafeteria made his skin crawl.
He was busy analyzing the madness he had lived inside the forest.
The events replayed in his mind on a torturous loop: the protagonist's defeat, the villain's impossible speed, the desperate fog, the frantic escape. And over it all, the words.
– (The First Hand) had said with all ease that he had transferred to the novel.
Those words… an ordinary person might think they were just the words of a crazy person.
But for him, who had transferred to a manga world he had read, these words were like a thunderbolt.
The confirmation had come later, when his heart had stopped hammering enough for him to think. He had focused inward, on the system, and looked at the villain's information again. It had updated.
Renji Crossaki – The First Hand – A person who transferred to a novel he had read before – Special Ability – Stasis – Ability Effect – While looking at a specific target, you can make that target still. The target cannot move. The power of the ability increases with continuous focus on the target.
The information was clear, especially the piece that said he was a person who had transferred to the novel he was reading.
This means that (The First Hand) is like me, he transferred to the manga world, but in a different way.
The realization was staggering, a paradigm shift within a paradigm shift.
Perhaps I transferred to this world because I read a manga, but he read a novel. And there is a difference between the two.
The medium was different. The details, the pacing, the power scaling—it could all be different.
In addition, he transferred to a minor villain character.
A side character. Not the hero, not even a major antagonist. A low-tier villain meant to be farmed for early points.
I can only imagine the difference in the immense strength that person possessed.
He had mastered Spiritual Enhancement to an Excellent level, which made him stronger than the main character (Sasuke) by a very clear margin, unlike in the manga.
That means he had arrived in this manga a long time ago, allowing him time to train and understand the nature of spiritual power.
This is the reason that made him vastly superior to me in terms of strength.
Of course, there was another possibility: that he possesses a system that allows him to gain strength faster through missions.
But honestly, (Tokito) wished that to be true. Otherwise, the end for (Tokito) would be…
He would swear at the heavens and steal in protest of this injustice and begin cursing the sky.
A hysterical laugh bubbled in his throat. He was already cursing the sky. He was living inside it.
Anyway, this doesn't matter.
He was trying to downplay the existential terror with pragmatic nihilism. It didn't work.
He grabbed the notebook in which he wrote the things he discovered, in addition to his memories from the manga, and began writing the things he noticed, in addition to the abilities of (Renji Crossaki), in addition to the information that he is a person who transferred to the novel he was reading.
The pen moved, recording the meta-crisis.
Scratch-scratch-scratch…
After documenting all the information, he went to drink some water.
He felt dehydrated. His mouth was dry, his throat tight. He had stayed for more than an hour just looking at the ceiling in astonishment, planning.
Why must I do, in the end, the existence of another person in this world who is aware of the future?
That means, simply or completely, that all my knowledge from the manga, about 70% to 80%, is no longer useful.
The foundation of his entire survival strategy—foreknowledge—was now sand. It was worse than sand; it was actively misleading.
In addition, that man did not treat (Sasuke) as if he were the hero of the novel he read, and that is strange to me.
Usually, people who transfer to another world, and that world is a novel or manga they read in their previous life, might try to stay away from the hero or at least try to work with him.
But that man definitely wanted, in some way, to kill (Sasuke).
That means either he does not want that hero's world to exist, or simply from his perspective, he does not see (Sasuke) as a hero.
And if (Tokito) thought a little, he finds that the matter is understandable.
Perhaps for (Renji), there is another hero for the story other than (Sasuke). Or perhaps there is some kind of secret plot that I don't know from the manga. Maybe this plot is related to the novel that (Renji) read, and not the manga that I read.
"Damn it."
He whispered the curse to the empty room. The sound was swallowed by the hum of the refrigerator.
Everything has become annoying. To hell with all of this.
How will I collect points now? I have become afraid even of leaving from now on.
How could I not? The first time I leave to carry out a mission, I discover that I am on the verge of death with all ease.
I will be the first person who transfers to another world and dies in such an unfair way, isn't that right?
Is it conceivable that the person who brought me to this world was just a masochist who wanted me to suffer here? Otherwise, why would he transfer me to such a highly dangerous world and not even grant me good abilities?
Even if he remembered that the cloud-forming ability had helped him get out of that situation, in the end, he didn't use combat; he simply fled in front of a person who also seemed to have transferred to another world.
In the end, (Tokito) let out a bitter sigh.
His white hair was damp with sweat from using his mind for a long period.
As for his red eyes, they were radiating a dangerous indifference to the extent that when he looked in the mirror, he felt he might have stayed up for nights.
But in truth, all that had happened as if it had happened a short time ago, since yesterday.
The face in the mirror was pale, the crimson eyes hollow. He looked like a ghost who had seen the machinery behind the haunting.
…
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The next day, (Tokito) woke up and went to the mission hall.
The morning routine felt surreal. The act of brushing his teeth, putting on the stiff uniform, walking the clean corridors—it was all normal, but it felt like he was moving through a thin veneer painted over a churning abyss.
There, he met (Jinji).
The clerk looked up from his terminal, his eyes behind his glasses widening slightly in recognition—and perhaps a flicker of that old unease.
(Tokito) gave (Jinji) the receipt note, and thereby obtained 100 points.
In the end, before they went to the villain in the forest, he and (Kanami) had carried out the mission of helping five individuals and obtained their signatures.
A lifetime ago. A simple, boring task that now felt like a relic from a simpler, naive era.
Therefore, he was able to obtain the mission money.
And in the end, even after a fierce confrontation like yesterday's confrontation, his desire was still clear: to obtain points.
Even if it was only 100, these points could still help him reduce the large gap.
Every point was a step towards freedom, even if the path was now mined and the destination uncertain.
(Jinji) looked at (Tokito) and felt once again that the owner of the white hair and red eyes possessed a dangerous aura.
He finished his procedure quickly before handing over the points.
Tap-tap-tap. Beep.
(Tokito) left the mission hall and went quietly to the garden.
He needed air that wasn't recycled through vents, light that wasn't fluorescent. The garden was its usual sterile self, but the sky above was a vast, indifferent blue.
There were no training rounds for him because he possesses a low rank.
Another reminder of his place in the brutal hierarchy.
At the same time, while he was sitting, he let out sighs while looking at the sky.
The sighs were soft, weary things. Fffh… Fffh…
The sound of footsteps approached without him noticing.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
A young man with black hair and black eyes sat beside him.
He didn't ask. He just sat, the bench groaning softly under the additional weight.
Creak.
After that, (Sasuke) says:
"It seems you are busy. I apologize for sitting without asking permission."
In a respectful tone, (Sasuke) speaks while looking forward.
(Tokito), who was acting calmly, did not dare to look to the side.
His heart gave a violent lurch. Thump!
He only formed small clouds and his mind was wondering quickly.
– I did not want to get involved with the main character. Why does the main character seem to have come to me suddenly? Is this some kind of universal law for time travelers to affect events enough to bring the main character and make them part of their group?
The irony was thick. He'd wanted to steal the protagonist's points, not recruit him.
At the same time, an idea began to form in (Tokito)'s mind, but he didn't say anything and let it form quietly, listening to (Sasuke)'s speech.
"I apologize if I seem curious, but you know what happened yesterday. Therefore, I want to ask you something."
The pale-skinned young man didn't say anything, and this was enough for (Sasuke) to sigh and know that the other party implicitly accepted being asked.
(Sasuke): "You knew that criminal. You said his name is (The First Hand), isn't that right? How did you know who he was, in addition to his ability? Even I didn't know his ability, which was able to freeze my movement, until after he did it."
The black eyes turned to look at him, intense and probing. There was no accusation, just a burning, frustrated curiosity.
The movement of the white hair and red eyes… his eyes for a moment before he says while releasing a hot breath:
"That criminal is called (The First Hand). As for how I knew that, I had information about him. In truth, my partner who was with me and I were preparing to capture him."
After that, he explained some things about (The First Hand) in addition to the information about the criminal.
But he didn't mention where he got the information or how he knew the criminal would be in that place.
His speech was simple and devoid of intensive information; he only said the information that was on the surface.
(Sasuke Kiseki) looked at the young man beside him in astonishment.
He couldn't believe it. According to the young man's words, he wanted to capture the criminal who was fighting him in the forest. Not only that, but he also knew his abilities, even if there were some errors.
This was very intensive information, even if it was unclear, which (Sasuke) realized in the end.
He couldn't ask for an intensive explanation about information that might be difficult to obtain, especially since the other party had saved him in the end.
"Can I ask something else?"
This time, (Sasuke) said the same words and wanted to ask something different.
(Tokito) didn't think much and said:
"You want to ask about spiritual energy, isn't that right?"
(Sasuke) was struck with astonishment. He didn't expect the other party to know what he wanted to ask.
In the end, he knew that the young man beside him knew what spiritual energy was, and at the same time, he knew that (The First Hand), who defeated (Sasuke), had used this spiritual ability to raise his physical strength to this level.
(Sasuke) had always wanted to raise his strength and become stronger. The loss in that humiliating manner had made him feel indescribable shame.
He felt that even with his wonderful power, which allowed him to copy the abilities of others, he was still lacking something. And that made him remain speechless for a long time in his room.
But what made him realize that the other party might help him understand what spiritual energy was, he decided to ask now.
"This is correct. I want to know the information related to spiritual energy."
At that moment, (Tokito) smiled and thought:
– There is no benefit in walking the script anymore. The time has come to create a new scenario.
Since (Crossaki) has his own plans and can break the plot at any time, I must act in my own way as well.
He began by saying:
"I will tell you, but I have several conditions."
(Sasuke), who desired power, said with confidence and determination:
"As long as you help me, I am ready to give you all the points I obtain."
(Tokito) shook his head. Points were no longer the only problem.
He also wanted to obtain power so he could face such a stupid and chaotic situation of confronting death.
Therefore, he said:
"You can keep the points. What I want is for you to become part of the organization I want to establish."
Again, (Sasuke) was astonished and didn't know what he was saying.
At the same time, the same words (Tokito) had said to (Kanami), he began to narrate them in a different way.
And this time, he had decided one thing:
"I will make the manga's hero work with me as well. In this way, I will be able to ensure I have ways to survive even if the scenario changes."
He looked at (Sasuke), meeting those intense black eyes with his own calm, lying red ones.
The script was torn. The author was dead, or there were multiple authors fighting for the pen. The only way forward was to gather the scattered pieces—the protagonist, the side character, his own pathetic self—and try to write a new story from the wreckage.
It was a desperate, insane plan.
But it was the only one he had.
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End of Chapter.
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Author's Note:
Thank you for reading as(Tokito) abandons the safety of spoilers and steps into the terrifying, uncharted territory of co-writing his own survival. Your continued readership is the only reliable narrative thread in this tangled plot. ❤️ :)
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