Knock, knock—
A sharp knock echoed off the iron door before it creaked open.
The guard stepped in, his expression unreadable—blank, like a statue carved for function, not feeling.
"It's time," he said flatly.
Then, without warning, he tossed something toward me.
I barely caught it—cold metal, heavier than I expected.
A gun.
Sleek. Matte black. Clean, sharp edges. It looked simple at first glance, but the weight, the grip... no, this wasn't ornamental. This wasn't for show. It was made for one thing: killing.
Along with it came a small pack of loaded magazines.
I stared down at them for a second too long.
"…What is this?" I asked slowly, brow furrowed. "Why are you giving me a gun?"
The guard blinked, slightly confused.
"What do you mean?" he tilted his head. "You selected it yourself before the entrance duel exams."
I did?
No—Rin Evans did.
Right. The real Rin. The one whose body I had ended up in. This must've been the weapon he registered as his primary tool.
I forced a small nod, hoping he couldn't see the doubt swimming behind my eyes.
"Right. Just… hadn't seen it up close until now," I muttered, trying to sound casual.
I looked back down at the gun in my hand.
So this was Rin's weapon of choice? A gun?
Strange. Most cadets picked flashy swords, arcane staves, enchanted gauntlets—things that screamed strength and ambition.
But this?
This was practical. Efficient. Quietly lethal.
Maybe Rin Evans wasn't as disposable as everyone thought.
Or maybe… maybe he just knew he wasn't going to live long enough to make it flashy.
I slid the magazine into place. Click.
A breath in.
I knew stepping into that arena was a terrible idea.
I could die.
No—I would die.
But I couldn't run. Couldn't withdraw. Not with the absurd rules Velcrest Academy enforced. Once your name was called, you fought. Period.
I felt my heart thump, a little harder now. Not fear—resolve.
"Let's go,"
Just as I took a step forward, the guard spoke again, pulling me from my thoughts.
I turned my head, narrowing my eyes slightly.
I didn't have a plan.
But I had instinct.
And instinct screamed do something.
So I opened my mouth.
"Wait a minute."
He paused, one foot already turning toward the hallway.
"What is it?"
"…How much?" I asked.
His brow furrowed. "Huh?"
I took a step closer, voice low.
"I'm asking, how much?"
"…For what?"
"Im asking your price ," I said calmly. "When the attack starts. I want you to be there to should from the attack is that clear?"
His mouth opened slightly—but no words came.
So I kept going.
"Everyone has a price. Don't tell me you're the only loyal guard in this place."
He blinked. A flicker of uncertainty crossed his features.
"How dare you?! Don't you know? You could go behind the bars for this."
"I will handle that problem later on. Just tell me your price."
You see, fellas, no matter who you are or what you have, it all can be bought.
One's position, one's treasure, one's life, and even one's dreams. Everything can be bought.
Albeit money can't buy everything, that doesn't mean not everything can't be bought.
As someone once said, even fate can be negotiated if you deal with the right price.
...Wait, who said that?
"You really are out of your mind!"
"I'm Rin Evans. Surely you know who is my father is, right?"
Tell you the truth, I also don't know my father is.
In fact, I don't even if I have family or not.
Currently I'm just bluffing myself.
If he hesitate, then I would know for sure that I have father and he's some big shot.
...And sure enough he hesitate.
'Predictable,' I commented in my mind.
If you can't buy someone with money, buy them with power.
Although status and money were almost useless once you were inside the Velcrest Academy, you could still use them to influence people.
What I did here was no different.
With just one sentence, I made him aware of my authority and warned him of my power.
He couldn't mess with me now. No way a mere guard can go against that kind of status.
Even if he was safe inside the Velcrest Academy, his family wasn't.
"You must have a family outside this acadmy, right?" I continued.
That was the last hit I needed: family— every man's weakness.
To him, I just gave him a warning.
A warning that he just couldn't neglect unless he wanted to regret it later.
"Now, let's not be hasty, yeah? Just do as I told you and I will reward you handsomely later."
The poor man could only nod in reply with his back still facing me.
He didn't say a word as he turned, shoulders stiff, his pace suddenly slower than before. But I saw the slight tremor in his hands.
Fear.
That was good.
Fear was useful.
Fear made people obey.
As the door creaked shut behind us, I finally exhaled. My fingers twitched around the grip of the gun, a silent reminder that this wasn't a negotiation anymore—it was survival.
The hallway was dimly lit, lit only by narrow strips of arcane light embedded in the walls. The further we walked, the colder the air became. Not physically cold, but sterile—like the warmth of humanity had been stripped from these halls long ago.
Velcrest Academy didn't waste time on ceremony. Trial by fire was their creed.
We passed a few more guards stationed along the corridor. They didn't even glance my way. Either they already knew who I was supposed to be… or they'd been told not to care.
Both options made my skin crawl.
Eventually, the corridor widened. I could hear the roar of the crowd beyond the heavy double doors ahead. Students. Instructors. Sponsors. Watching.
Waiting.
Feeding off the spectacle of blood.
The guard beside me came to a halt.
"This is it," he said without turning to look at me.
I gave a slow nod.
The doors loomed tall—dark steel engraved with the crest of the academy. They would swing open any second now, and I'd be tossed into the lion's den.
But I had one last move to make.
I leaned in, whispering just loud enough for only him to hear.
"If I make it out alive, you'll get ten times what you thought you deserved."
He flinched ever so slightly. Still didn't face me. But I could feel the weight of my words settle over him like chains.
I stepped back.
Then the gears in the door groaned. Light spilled through the opening seam. The sound of the arena exploded through the hallway—cheers, chants, even some jeers.
The announcer's voice echoed from magical speakers above.
[Next up—Rin Evans Vs Lucas Voss!]
The doors fully opened, and I stepped into the light.
The arena was vast—coliseum-like, circular, with metallic walls that shimmered faintly with enchantments. Thousands of faces stared down from the stands, each one waiting to see who would live, and who would bleed.
And across the field—my opponent.
A tall figure, clad in reinforced battle gear.
Great.
A melee berserker.
I could already feel the disdain from the audience. A gun against gauntlet? Pathetic. Unfair. Either laughably weak, or cowardly strong.
But they didn't know me.
Hell, I didn't even know me.
But one thing was certain—
I wasn't going to die here.
I raised the gun.
And smiled.
"Let's see if this body knows how to shoot."
-----
At the same time, the guard looked towards distance figure of Rin Evans and couldn't help but remember the Ryen's words.
—If anything seems suspicious, just jump in the match.
—But....
—Dont worry, if nothing happens then I would take responsibility.
—Okay.
The guard already decided to jump in and stop the match if something suspicious happeneds.
He was hesitant before but now he has no choice but to do so since Rin Evans had threatened him by using his father.
Who would have thought he would do that.
'Well let's see if you are right or wrong.'
Either way, he the guard knew what he has to do now.
-----
Rin's POV.
I never held gun in my life before, but I don't know why but it's felt natural to me.
Maybe it's because Rin's body memories.
My opponent was Lucas Voss, he wasn't Protagonist's or any important character but he had appeared few times in my friends novel.
So, I guess he's quite decent.
But I know I can't win against him.
Not when...
—3 minutes and 30 seconds before the main quest begans—
It's means three minutes all I have till the villain attacked this place.
Also, Rin Evans was body was pathetic.
I didn't noticed before since I was panicked but he's body was that bellow average body of human.
In the world of superhuman, he's body was pathetic.
So my winning shot was already out of windows.
[NOW LET'S BEGAN THE LAST DUEL!]
The announcement happened and last match of the Velcrest Academy began.
Lucas Voss immediately charged forward like a savage beast.
My senses screamed at me to move, but my body—a below-average, barely-trained excuse for a human frame—wasn't made for speed.
Still, instinct kicked in.
I dove to the side, landing hard against the arena floor. Pain shot through my ribs, and the gun almost slipped from my grip. Almost.
Bang!
I pulled the trigger on reflex.
The bullet whizzed through the air, missing Voss by a few inches—but it made him halt.
He skidded to a stop, eyes narrowing as he reassessed me.
"You're slower than I expected," he muttered, cracking his knuckles. "But… that aim—wasn't bad."
I didn't reply.
I couldn't afford to.
Instead, I scrambled up and took a few steps back, trying to widen the distance between us.
I needed space.
Time.
Three minutes left.
He started pacing now—no longer charging.
He knew.
He felt it.
I wasn't normal.
Or at least, I wasn't the Rin Evans he expected.
"You're different," he said, almost to himself. "Your stance. Your gaze. Even your fear—it's calculated now."
I didn't respond. Just lifted the gun again.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Aim.
Not at the chest—not at the head.
I aimed at his thigh.
Bang!
The bullet grazed his outer leg. He flinched but didn't fall.
"Tch. Lucky shot," he muttered and lunged forward again.
This time, I didn't move back.
I moved forward.
The audience gasped.
Even Voss's eyes widened.
Because it was suicide—charging toward a melee fighter with a gun?
But I had a plan.
Well, kind of.
I didn't need to win.
I just needed to survive.
As he swung his gauntlet down, I dropped, slid beneath his strike, and aimed upward from the ground—
Bang!
Right into his shoulder joint.
He grunted and stumbled back.
"You're annoying," he spat.
"You're predictable," I countered.
His brow twitched.
Two minutes left.
I could feel it—magic trembling beneath the walls. Like something massive was coming. Cracks forming in the academy's perfect image.
I fired again. Missed.
Again. Hit his gauntlet.
Useless.
He rushed me again, this time spinning mid-air like a damn gymnast, landing a kick into my side.
I flew.
Hard.
Crashing against the arena wall, breath knocked out of me.
The world tilted sideways.
I coughed. Blood.
The gun was still in my hand.
I lifted my head.
One minute, thirty seconds.
My vision blurred—but I could see him.
Voss.
He was approaching slowly now, arms limp, blood dripping from his shoulder.
"You're stubborn. I'll give you that."
I smiled, even as pain seared through my ribs.
"Only because I know something you don't."
He paused. "Yeah? What's that?"
I looked up.
Straight at the sky.
"That this match doesn't matter."
The moment I said it—
BOOM!
The arena shook.
The ground trembled.
A shockwave rolled through the coliseum, followed by screams and panic.
Above us, the protective enchantments cracked like glass.
Then shattered.
A shadow fell over the arena.
A ship—no, a fortress—hovered in the skies above Velcrest.
The invasion had begun.
A villain had arrived.
The crowd went wild—chaotic screams, scrambling instructors, alarm bells.
Voss froze, turning his gaze skyward.
"...What the hell?"
And I?
I simply lifted the gun one last time and aimed it at his exposed back.
"I told you this didn't matter."
Bang!
He dropped.
Unconscious.
Not dead.
But down.
Match over.
[Winner—Rin Evans!]
But no one was cheering.
The announcer's voice had long been drowned out by the chaos unfolding above.
Magic bolts flew from the fortress.
Explosions rocked the academy walls.
Students scattered. Teachers shouted.
The ground around me cracked, now the explanation was going to happen beneath the ground.
What happened to the guard? I thought he would come and save me.
If somehow this explanation didn't stop, half the first year will die right now and here.
And then...
BOOM—!
and the same time, someone grabbed me.
For a moment, my vision blurred, ears ringing from the shockwave. But when I came to, I was still standing.
The guard had shielded me.
His protective barrier had absorbed most of the impact, keeping me alive. Others weren't as lucky.
I swallowed hard and turned toward the destruction, expecting to see lifeless bodies beneath the rubble.
But… no one was dead.
Some students lay groaning, injured, and others had collapsed from the shock, but miraculously, there were no casualties.
[First achievement acquired: Fooling The Fate. You have survived a predetermined death.]
Wait. What?
That shouldn't have been possible.
My gaze darted around, searching for the reason—until I saw him.
Standing near the wreckage, slightly hunched over, was a boy.
Ryen.
The protagonist.
His uniform was tattered, his arm bleeding, but his hands still flickered with residual energy. He had blocked the explosion.
What the hell?
Ryen stood at the edge of the blast zone, one knee bent, his chest rising and falling like he'd just sprinted a mile. His right sleeve was scorched halfway up his arm, skin seared red beneath it. Yet somehow, he was still on his feet.
Still standing.
And more importantly… still alive.
I stared, stunned.
That wasn't supposed to happen.
In the original timeline, the explosion should've ripped through the audience. Dozens dead. Dozens more injured. Rin Evans included.
But this—this was different. The damage was real, yes, but the body count was zero.
No.
That wasn't luck.
That was Ryen.
He had moved. In the original story, he didn't react until after the explosion. But this time… he'd intervened early. Too early.
What happened? What did change the plotline?
Did gaurd inform Ryen about this? If did then that's the most nicest thing he had done till his whole life.
[Main Timeline disrupted. Cause: Your intervention.]
[Consequences unknown.]
Oh, no.
That wasn't good.
But I don't have time dwell on these notifications.
The guard beside me lowered his barrier slowly. His uniform were torn, eyes narrowed, lips pressed tight. A drop of blood trickled from his temple. He looked at me, then at the carnage, then back again.
"…You weren't lying," he muttered.
"No shit," I hissed back, my voice shaking more than I wanted it to.
People were screaming. Dust filled the air. Some students cried. Others stood frozen, white-faced and shivering.
But Ryen—
He was already stepping forward, commanding attention without even meaning to.
"Everyone, stay calm!" he shouted, voice clear and firm despite the chaos.
Some listened. Some didn't. But they heard him.
And that was enough.
He turned, eyes scanning the wreckage, probably searching for the enemy he knew was still out there. Because the explosion wasn't the end.
It was the beginning.
"…He's really him," I whispered.
I'd seen this moment a hundred times, but feeling in real life was different.
At the same time, my gazed moved towards professor and other guards and all of them were locked behind the barrier, Not allowing them to go outside and help the students.
'Shit, it's the same as in the novel.'
My heart pounded as I stared at the barrier that trapped the professors and guards inside the audience stand. They were shouting—faces pressed against the glowing veil, fists pounding helplessly—but the magic held strong. Just like in the novel.
'They're being isolated,' I thought grimly. 'Exactly like before.'
The villain didn't want interference. The professors were strong—too strong to allow them to join the fight this early. That's why the barrier was designed to hold until the second wave. Until the students were already broken.
Just like the story.
But this time… Ryen wasn't broken.
That changed everything.
"Rin!" the guard beside me barked, snapping me out of my thoughts. "We need to move! This place is unstable!"
"No," I said, staggering to my feet, still clutching the gun. "Not yet."
He stared at me like I'd lost my mind.
"I need to stay close to Ryen," I continued. "He's the only one who can stop what's coming."
"You think a student can—?"
"He's not just a student," I said sharply, eyes locked on Ryen's back. "He's the main character."
The guard's face twisted in confusion—but we didn't have time to argue.
Another explosion rocked the outer wall, this one louder, sharper—closer.
From the shadows, they emerged.
Troll.
This was the monster that villain used when he attacked the Velcrest Academy.
....And at the same time, I saw yet another notification.
[Confirmed. A deviation in the original plot has been detected. Adjustments will be made to correct the imbalance.]
I stiffened.
[Casualties have been recalculated. The intensity of subsequent events will be increased accordingly.]
What?
[ The appearing monster—originally a lower-class Enhanced Troll—will now be strengthened by the Owner's power.]
My thoughts came to a screeching halt.
What kind of nonsense was this? What kind of self-indulgent, power-tripping author thought this was fair?! Readers don't like this kind of thing! Who the hell enjoys blatant author interference?!
The troll—if I could even call it that anymore— its back hunched, body bulging with muscle that looked stitched together from pure hatred. Its skin was a patchwork of black scales and pulsing veins, its eyes glowing with a sickly golden light.
Its mouth opened, too wide, too jagged, and let out a howl that made the air itself shudder.
People panicked.
Screams erupted. Some ran. Others froze. One poor student vomited on the spot.
Before Ryen had chance to attack them, they attack first.
A massive fist came hurtling forward, slamming directly into the protagonist.
Ryen barely had time to register the attack before he was sent flying across the arena stadium.
My breath caught in my throat.
Shit.
Ryen hit the ground with a sickening crunch, rolling once—twice—before slamming into a pillar and falling limp.
"RYEN!" someone screamed.
A girl with pink hair.
No. No, no, no.
This wasn't how it was supposed to go.
And I?
I couldn't move.
I stood there, heart pounding in my ears, locked in place by the sheer wrongness of it all.
That thing was not in the original story.
The Enhanced Troll was supposed to be big, sure. Dangerous, absolutely. But this? This was a mutant. A narrative correction. A punishment.
A monster wearing the Owner's grudge like armor.
I saw it now. The timeline had bled. I'd poked a hole in the fabric of the story, and now it was stitching itself back with barbed wire.
This wasn't supposed to happen.
[The presence of an unknown helping factor has been confirmed.]
For fuck's sake, not this again.
[Deploying more Troll.]
My stomach dropped.
Wait. What?!