If his hypothesis was correct—that these visions were a broadcast of the future—then this was an intelligence goldmine. Ayanokoji stared at Elsa on the screen, memorizing every tick, every foot placement, and every breath.
The version of him in the video might have lost, but with the advantage of foresight, the next encounter would be a different story entirely. As for whether he actually "died" or not? To Ayanokoji, it was an irrelevant distinction.
"I'm starting to get a little bored," Elsa purred. Though she and Ayanokoji seemed matched on the surface, she was merely a cat batting at a mouse. Ayanokoji was the pinnacle of human capability, far surpassing any royal guard, but his stamina was finite. Between the nerve-damaging frostbite and the sheer physical gap created by Elsa's Divine Protection, he was a candle flickering in a hurricane.
Elsa vanished from his line of sight. A cold, unnatural gust of wind brushed his neck. In the next heartbeat, she was behind him.
Silver light flashed. A crimson arc painted the air as Ayanokoji's body crumpled like a broken marionette. A jagged, searing agony bloomed in his abdomen.
'So this is death?' Ayanokoji felt his temperature plummeting, his consciousness fraying at the edges. He felt no fear, no hatred, not even a desperate will to live. He simply accepted it as an inefficient outcome. To struggle against the inevitable was a waste of energy.
His lack of emotion annoyed Elsa. She feasted on the final flickers of a soul—fear, despair, resentment. But from Ayanokoji, there was only a void. It was as if she were killing an object rather than a man. It left her with a lingering, bitter taste in her mouth.
As the light faded from his vision, Kiyotaka Ayanokoji closed his eyes.
AYANOKOJI KIYOTAKA: DECEASED.
An oppressive silence choked the classroom.
They had seen Ayanokoji demonstrate skills they didn't know a human could possess. Against any man, he would have been the victor. But Elsa was a nightmare that defied physics.
"No..." Horikita's voice broke. Tears escaped her eyes despite her best efforts. She kept telling herself it was just a video, that the boy sitting next to her was breathing and whole. But the realism of the slaughter made the distinction impossible to maintain.
She wiped her eyes, not wanting the others to see her weakness, and glanced at Ayanokoji. He was sitting there, perfectly calm, staring at the screen as if watching a weather report.
"Ayanokoji! That was you! You died!" her voice was sharp with a mix of anger and grief. "Don't you have anything to say?"
"I'm sitting here right now, aren't I?" he replied tonelessly. To him, getting emotional was useless. If this was the future, the only logical step was to analyze why he lost.
He hadn't lost due to a lack of skill, but a lack of information. He didn't know the world, and he didn't know the monster he was fighting. If he had known she was coming, he would have moved differently.
He put down his student terminal, assuming the video had ended.
"Whatever. Why do I even care about this guy..." Horikita muttered, pouting and looking away. "Anyway, it's finally over."
But the screen didn't go black. A blurred silhouette began to move through the darkness.
Darkness swirled like a thick fog. Ayanokoji didn't know if he was truly dead or in some liminal space. Then, a sudden, piercing light broke through.
The bright afternoon sun spilled over the ancient spires of the Royal Capital. The cacophony of the busy street rushed back into his ears. Ayanokoji blinked, watching a group of demi-humans walk past.
'I didn't die?' Ayanokoji looked around. The crowd, the buildings, the timing of the carriages—it was identical to the moment he first arrived in this world. His photographic memory confirmed it: this wasn't just a similar place; it was the exact same point in time.
He touched his stomach. There was no wound. No blood. No agonizing rip in his flesh. Only a phantom memory of the pain remained.
"Was it an illusion? No... the sensation was too visceral," he whispered. His mind raced through the possibilities. "A more likely conclusion: I died, and time reset to this specific anchor point."
"He... he came back to life!?"
In a modern apartment, Kaguya Shinomiya stared at the TV in shock. She thought the horror was over, but the cycle was starting again.
"It's standard protagonist stuff, Kaguya!" Chika Fujiwara declared, pumping a fist. "I've seen this in dozens of dramas! The hero always gets a second chance!"
"I don't think that's the point here..." Shirogane muttered, though he was secretly leaning closer to the screen. He wanted to see what a genius would do with a "Restart" button.
"Ayanokoji, you're alive!" Horikita clapped her hands, her face lighting up with genuine relief.
"That isn't me," Ayanokoji corrected her, his face devoid of joy. He was already calculating.
Ayanokoji needed to verify the time-loop theory. He followed the exact path he took before, heading straight for the alleyway. Right on schedule, the three thugs emerged from the shadows.
"Hey! Hand over your valuables if you don't want a beating!"
The script was identical. Ayanokoji looked at them. "Have we met before?"
"Huh? You trying to be friendly? Doesn't work! Money, now!"
'Confirmed. Time has regressed by several hours.' Ayanokoji's pulse didn't quicken. Instead, he felt a spark of interest. Why did time reset? Was it his death that triggered it? Was there a limit to the restarts? If his death was the "Save Point" trigger, then death itself was now a tactical tool. He briefly considered suicide to test the limits, but dismissed it—the risk of a permanent end was too high to justify the data.
In a dark, cluttered room, a boy named Sora looked at his sister, Shiro. On their monitor, Ayanokoji was calculating his next move.
"He's treating death like save-scumming in a boss fight," Sora chuckled.
"Like us," Shiro whispered, her eyes tracking Ayanokoji's efficiency.
"Hey! You want a taste of this?!" the largest thug roared. No one ever came to this alley to help.
Ayanokoji stood his ground. 'If the timeline holds, Felt will arrive in exactly three minutes and thirty seconds. I'll settle this before then. Since they're just humans with no special abilities, this will be brief.'
Ayanokoji struck first. He lunged at the thin man in the middle—the one he remembered had a hidden weapon. His fist hit the man's throat with surgical precision—enough force to collapse his breathing and cause an instant blackout, but not enough to kill. He didn't want the guards hunting him for murder.
Before the other two could blink, Ayanokoji dropped low. He used his momentum to sweep the giant's leg. As the man toppled, Ayanokoji rose with a brutal knee to the jaw. The man twice his size hit the dirt, unconscious before he even realized the fight had started.