Hide Hekima's life was like a novel written by someone else. And today, it felt as though the author wanted to kill him through an all-powerful "main character."
"You know what I hate the most? Useless errand boys. Because you're nothing but an NPC."
*
The taste of rusty iron exploded and filled Hide's entire mouth.It was the first sensation creeping into his consciousness. The acrid taste of thick and hot blood. Just before the real pain struck like a storm.
BUGH!
A powerful kick landed right on his left ribs. The dull sound was horrifying in his own ears, forcing his lungs to collapse instantly. Hide wheezed violently, spewing red splatters that stained the gray asphalt beneath him.
Before he could take a breath, a shiny pair of expensive black dress shoes struck his stomach again for the umpteenth time. His thin body jolted, arching like a shrimp gasping for life.
The world in Hide's eyes still spun wildly until it became blurred. Up there, the bright blue sky stretched above Shin Private High School felt very distant and mocking. The spring sun warming the city did nothing to ease the coldness of the asphalt pressing against his bruised cheek behind the cafeteria building.
He was supposed to be just a normal 17-year-old teenager. A second-year high school student dreaming of getting through the day peacefully. However, his humanity had been forcibly reduced to merely a lump of dirty school uniform and a shivering body curled up on the ground. With the last of his strength, Hide tried to protect his head with his wounded, bloodied, and dusty hands.
"Oi, oi, oi. Get up, idiot! Or you'll just make that disgusting uniform of yours even dirtier."
The voice was calm. Far too calm for someone who had just shattered another person's will to live.
It was laced with boredom, as though tormenting Hide was no more entertaining than yawning.
Suppressing his anger through the pain, Hide forced himself to lift his face.
He wanted to see the face of the person responsible for all this; Sadashi.
With swollen eyes barely able to open, he saw the tip of Sadashi's expensive shoe only inches from his nose.
Behind him stood two other figures, his loyal followers who always trailed after their master. They snickered quietly. Their laughter buzzing in Hide's ears like flies circling a corpse.
"I told you to buy yakisoba bread and cold strawberry milk," Sadashi said.
He crouched slightly, letting his handsome face, always wearing that cruel smirk, stare directly into Hide's helpless eyes.
"But look at the trash you brought me."
He pointed with his sharp chin.
On the dusty ground lay a torn convenience store bag. Its contents were scattered everywhere. Flattened bread crushed underfoot and a milk carton split open, its contents spilling out.
The sweet pink liquid slowly pooled, creeping toward Hide's face and mixing with dirt and dried blood.
"I-I'm sorry… the line was really long, Sadashi-kun," Hide finally whispered. His voice sounded foreign to his own ears. Weak, hoarse, broken.
"And someone… someone bumped into me on the way here… That's why I couldn't keep it safe… I'm sorry."
THUD!
His answer earned another blow.
This time, Sadashi's heel pressed hard into Hide's shoulder, grinding him into the ground until the bone creaked in protest. Hide let out a muffled groan as his face sank into the sticky puddle of strawberry milk.
"Excuses. Always excuses," Sadashi hissed. The smirk vanishing into a cold, empty stare.
Hide's fists clenched so tightly his nails dug into his palms. For a brief second, he forced himself to meet Sadashi's eyes before lowering his gaze again.
"You know what I hate even more than late food? Incompetent servants. You're just an NPC in this social order, Hide. A background character with no role and no rights."
Sadashi pressed his foot down harder.
"A-Aaagh!"
"Your only purpose in this world is to obey the main character like me. And you can't even complete something this simple?" Sadashi said as he crouched in front of Hide's face, savoring every drop of cold sweat on his victim's forehead.
Hide's heart pounded violently.
Anger, fear, sorrow, humiliation; everything twisted together into a bitter lump in his throat. But as always, the loser inside him didn't know what to do. He couldn't think of a single way to fight back.
"I'm sorry… please… I'm begging you…" he whispered. His voice barely audible.
Sadashi stood up again. Brushing invisible dust from his expensive uniform pants, fabric far finer than those of ordinary students, with graceful movements.
He looked down at Hide like someone who had just stepped in dog filth.
Casually, he said to his friends, "Finish him. I've completely lost my appetite because of this."
Then Sadashi turned away and walked off lightly. Not even bothering to watch. To him, Hide was nothing more than a minor nuisance during lunch break.
The two shadows stepped forward with wide grins.
Hide squeezed his eyes shut and pulled his knees to his chest in a fetal position—the final defense of someone who had already given up.
He stayed silent. That was all he had ever done. In the brutal narrative of real life, he had known his role for a long time.
I'm just a punching bag for other people's anger and boredom. I'm a miserable stepping stone. I'm "That Guy" whose name no one will even remember at a school reunion ten years from now.
THUD! THUD! THUD! CRASH! CRASH!
Blow after blow rained down on his thin body. Kicks to his back, stomps on his thighs, strikes to the back of his head.
The pain blended into one overwhelming mass; dull, burning, nauseating.
Someone… please… help me… Hide screamed silently as tears slipped down his face. Mixing with strawberry milk and dust.
Even though deep inside, he knew no hero was coming.
God. Isekai deity. World king. System. Whoever controls this universe…
If my life is just a story, why do I always have to suffer like this? Why does the Author of my life seem to hate me so much? Didn't He create me Himself? Why was I given only the role of being destroyed? Why am I the only one who has to suffer?
His consciousness began to fade.
The sharp scent of blood mixed with the sweet smell of spilled strawberry milk.
This was his routine. This was his miserable life.
At least until today.
Until the moment the fate he called "The Author" finally grew tired of watching him suffer.
Not far away, inside an abandoned building behind Shin Private High School, a man wearing a white mask, black sunglasses, and a baseball cap watched everything.
The twenty-seven-year-old witnessed every inch of Hide's suffering.
"Aaahh, finally I found you..." he whispered. His voice trembling whether from excitement or obsession. "The Scarlet."