Shun turned to Rylan with a frustrated scowl. It felt exactly like reaching the climax of a gripping series only to be left dangling on a cliffhanger.
Then reason caught up. It was just a chicken crossing the road, after all. His expression smoothed in an instant.
[Yes, myself.] He sent the reply. Rylan had a look of pure disgust.
[I'm joking. You don't have to look like you just swallowed something filthy.]
Rylan paused, letting the awkwardness settle.
[Sure, higher beings probably exist. But I've lived my entire life without 'Their' help, and I'm doing just fine. Why are you asking?]
[Nothing important. Just curious.]
[You believe in any deities?]
[Sometimes. I don't know.]
[Sometimes? What's that supposed to mean? You flip between believer and non-believer every night and day?]
[More like every hour.]
[It's normal to have doubts.] Shun typed carefully. [If I'm honest, sometimes when it gets dark I wonder if I should start believing in something. Having a higher power to lean on can be comforting. But I don't need an invisible narcissist as my reason to keep living. You, Edric, Hanekawa—I have people who actually care about me.]
He stared at the message for a long moment. If it had been anyone else, he never would have sent something so raw.
[Live for the people you love, huh?] Rylan replied after a pause. [Yeah… I think I understand.]
[Rylan, if you need help, you've got me and Edric. We'll be there. We're friends. Don't hesitate to ask.]
Rylan glanced over and smiled. "Of course. You think I'm going to suffer alone while the rest of you have all the fun?"
Shun felt a flicker of relief—right up until he saw the chalkboard hurtling toward them like a bullet.
Rylan tipped his head left at the last instant. The board whistled past his cheek, close enough to stir his hair, and slammed into the wall behind him. It embedded deep, sending a spiderweb of cracks across the surface.
"Don't talk in class!" the teacher snapped, finger leveled at Rylan. "Try it again and I'll send you into the simulation with the pain sensors set to maximum."
Rylan's face paled. He straightened instantly, back rigid, hands folded neatly over his book, eyes glued to the page as though his life depended on it.
Watching him clutch the textbook like a holy relic, a stray thought drifted through Shun's mind.
*Wonder why the education system still works exactly like this…*
He pushed the idea aside and let his thoughts drift.
The long hand of the clock swept through a full circle. Two more lectures blurred past in quick succession. When the short and long hands finally met at one, the bell rang sharp and clear, announcing the end of class and the start of break.
"Finally!" Rylan stood and stretched with dramatic relief.
"You should've caught that chalk," Edric said, inspecting the half-buried board.
"Sure. Turning my hand into meat paste sounds like a great time."
"What were you two talking about anyway?" Edric asked.
From his perspective, Rylan had simply blurted something strange mid-lecture. After a moment's thought, the obvious answer clicked into place: they had been chatting through messages, and Rylan had either slipped or forgotten to keep it silent.
Edric looked at Shun. Understanding passed between them without a word.
"Rylan," Edric said, clapping a hand on his shoulder, "we'll help you. Even if you die, we'll march into the deepest layer of hell and drag you back." He paused. "Also, you still owe me twenty sterl."
Rylan's face lit up with genuine emotion—until the last part landed. His expression crumpled into disappointment.
"Right, right. Of course." He nodded several times and started walking. Shun and Edric fell in beside him. "You know, I should've expected that."
"What? You think I'm just going to let you die before you pay me back twenty sterl?"
"Hey, immortality for twenty sterl. That's the best deal I've heard all week. I'll take it."
The conversation flowed on, laced with jokes and easy laughter, carrying them all the way to the school cafeteria.
The place was packed with young, healthy, athletic bodies—enough that the school had to prepare three times the usual amount of food. Steel containers rose like small mountains, piled high with a dizzying variety of dishes. Students queued up before drifting off to tables with their usual groups.
Shun's circle claimed their usual spot in the far corner near the window.
He stared down at his tray. A mountain of rice easily enough for three people, paired with two perfectly fried chicken thighs—crisp golden skin on the outside, tender and juicy within at the lightest touch.
In any proper restaurant, this plate would cost twenty sterl. Expensive by any definition.
Money had started flowing into his accounts lately—clients practically begging for his magiteck work, gigs chasing him like starving wolves—yet the old sting of poverty still ran deep in his veins. Eating something like this still felt almost unreal.
He remembered days of digging half-wet bread with green patches out of trash bins. That was another story.
*Thank you, taxpayers,* Shun thought, clasping his hands together for a moment. He seriously considered converting if the true god turned out to be a hivemind of every citizen who funded school lunches.
The cafeteria buzzed with chatter and laughter, punctuated by the constant clink of spoons and forks against plates.
"God, I love food," Rylan declared, throwing his hands into the air. "Praise to food!"
Shun and Edric smiled—until they sensed several presences heading straight for their table.
They turned. Three young masters swaggered over, arms swinging in exaggerated arcs with every step.
"I never understand why they walk like that," Shun muttered. "It looks ridiculous."
"No need to hire a clown when you've got them for free," Rylan added.
"Oh, they're coming here," Shun noted, taking a casual bite of watermelon.
"What are they up to now?" Rylan asked, clearly displeased. He rose and stepped in front of Edric and Shun.
"Rylan, don't get baited too easily," Edric warned.
"Don't worry. I won't."
The three young masters stopped directly in front of Rylan.
"Move," one commanded.
Rylan met his stare evenly. "What if I don't?"
The young master glanced at his friends, then threw a punch.
A breeze stirred the air.
The fist froze an inch from Rylan's nose.
Behind the attacker, Shun had already drawn his white blade—different from the blue one he used as Neo—and pressed its edge against the young master's throat. In his other hand, a knife hovered an inch from the second boy's heart.
Edric calmly pressed the barrel of a gun to the back of the first young master's head while his second gun kissed the temple of the third.
"We're simply eating," Shun said, his voice low and chilling, thick with killing intent that cut straight to the bone, "and you come here to hurt our friend? What's the meaning of this?"
"The school doesn't allow violence unless one party starts it," Edric added coolly, adjusting his glasses with his free hand. "And with your type, the answer is always yes."
The three young masters stiffened, suddenly very aware of how close death had come.