“Haa… haa… ugh, uuuuugh.”
“Hey, Tsubaki. Just how out of shape are you that you’re this wiped out from such a short run?”
“S-sorry. Haa. I’ll try harder from now on, uuuugh…”
“Tsk… well, you did go farther than yesterday, so I guess that’s something. Here, drink this.”
“Haaak!”
Under the crimson sunset, I handed her an ion drink.
Fuyuno Tsubaki, her face drenched in sweat, nodded her head up and down in thanks and gulped the drink down refreshingly.
I watched the curve of Fuyuno Tsubaki’s pale neck as she drank, and fell into thought.
This peace… only has a week left.
It’s been a week since I joined the Explosive Dragon group.
In other words, there’s only a week left until the midterm evaluations, and that means these relaxing moments are coming to an end.
After the midterms comes the Jincheon Class promotion exam, and if I pass and join Jincheon Class, I’ll get swept up in the main storyline.
The only reason I can afford to run so leisurely with Fuyuno Tsubaki right now is because I’m still in the regular class, not Jincheon.
If I had joined Jincheon from the start, I wouldn’t have even thought this was peaceful.
Jincheon Class is where all the major players of this world—the so-called protagonists—gather.
A person’s presence is like gravity; and the people there have such an overwhelming presence, they’re like supermassive celestial bodies.
Of course incidents and accidents follow when that kind of force pulls everything around it.
It’s on a totally different level than a regular class like ours, which is just full of nobodies.
And on top of that, the real protagonist of this world is in Jincheon Class, making it a literal breeding ground for incidents and chaos.
“To survive in a place like that… you’d need way more stamina than this.”
Watching Fuyuno Tsubaki collapse after barely running 10km suddenly made me very worried.
Getting promoted to Jincheon Class isn’t the hard part, assuming everything goes as planned—but the real challenge is surviving once you’re there.
This world seems to be built on a “Truth” difficulty setting, so unexpected incidents will probably come at us like random encounters.
And I’m not some future-seeing prophet—I’m just a long-time player of Reversal Hero Saga.
I can only react after things happen.
“Hm…”
The question is—can this girl hold out long enough while I recognize what’s happening and respond?
“Uh, Woobin? Why are you looking at me with that scary expression and mumbling to yourself…? Is it because I drank too much of the drink…?”
“…Haha.”
Nope.
No way.
I reached out my hand to Fuyuno Tsubaki, who was sitting on the ground looking up at me with anxious eyes.
“Break time’s over. Get up.”
“Huh? O-okay…”
You’d think she’d be used to this by now, but once again, Fuyuno Tsubaki hesitated and only barely grabbed the tip of my fingers.
What does she expect to do with that grip?
I grabbed her wrist firmly and yanked her to her feet in one motion.
“Kyaa!”
When I let go of her hand after completing the “mission,” Fuyuno Tsubaki blushed and stared at her hand where my grip had left a red mark.
Watching her for a moment, I said,
“Hey, Tsubaki. You’re gonna get pulled up by me a lot from now on. Don’t you think it’s time you got used to it?”
“H-huh? A lot of pulling… from now on?”
“I’m gonna be the one standing longer than you, right? I don’t want to waste time on small stuff like this. So get used to it, okay?”
“R-right, I’ll try…”
Seriously.
The only reason I’m dragging her around is because of that Extreme Yin Constitution, but she’s gotta be the most unreliable person in the world.
She gets this flustered just from holding hands—it really makes the road ahead feel long.
But honestly, it didn’t matter whether she didn’t like it or felt unsure.
Because if I said we’re doing something, she had to go along with it.
So, I spoke to her again, even though her ears were still bright red and she looked incredibly embarrassed.
“We’ve got somewhere to go. Follow me.”
“Huh? W-where?”
“Our clubroom.”
“Clubroom? Got it… Wait, huh? H-hold on! If it’s your clubroom, then th-that means… E-explo—Explosive Dragon…?”
As soon as I said we were heading to the clubroom, Fuyuno Tsubaki’s face turned from red to pale in an instant.
She changed color faster than an octopus, and I couldn’t help but smirk at how ridiculous it looked.
“Yep. Explosive Dragon.”
***
That night, Ryu Jia, deeply satisfied down to her lower belly from nothing more than Yang Woobin’s fried rice and his light shoulder massage, lay on her bed trembling in shame.
“I can’t forgive him…”
She had never been treated like that in her entire life.
Blessed with natural talent, a rebellious personality, and the backing of the Ryu family, Ryu Jia had always done whatever she pleased.
So she simply couldn’t accept what happened that day.
“How dare he… a junior… a weak, pathetic guy at that…!”
For Ryu Jia, not being able to do what she wanted was completely unacceptable.
Because she was Ryu Jia.
The strongest student of Daecheon, the worst delinquent, and the president of Explosive Dragon.
Doing what she pleased was one of the core pillars holding her up.
But to be forced into restriction, to be denied her will—he tried to discipline her, and yet he was the one who left her satisfied…!
“I was just caught off guard today. Tomorrow, when I see him again, I will put him in his place…”
Clenching her fists tightly, Ryu Jia made a firm resolution to crush Yang Woobin’s sharp-looking nose.
***
“Hello.”
“Hmph!”
The next day after school, as soon as Yang Woobin walked into the clubroom, Ryu Jia, who had been waiting, ran her gloved hand along the window frame.
“Hey, newbie! Just what kind of job do you call this, huh?! There’s dust piled up on the window fra—huh? …There’s none?”
She paused, baffled, as her pristine white glove came back without a speck of dust.
It had been a whole day since the last cleaning, so there should have been dust, yet the windowsill was spotless.
“What do you mean? I’m just that amazing at cleaning. By the way… were you seriously standing in front of the window all this time just waiting to catch me?”
“W-what? N-no way!”
“Yeah right. You even brought gloves—100% you were.”
“Ghk.”
Ryu Jia clutched her chest and avoided eye contact, pierced straight through by Yang Woobin’s nonchalant remark.
Seeing her reaction, Yang Woobin let out a short laugh and followed up with another jab.
“President, do you not have any friends?”
“Guh!”
Ryu Jia had never once felt even a hint of discomfort about not having any friends, but for some reason, Yang Woobin’s words struck her like a blow to the solar plexus.
It hurt more than being hit by the massive front paw of a demonic beast.
But Ryu Jia wasn’t the type to curl up and cry when she was in pain—she was the type to destroy the person who caused her pain.
“You little punk… how dare you talk like that to your great club president…!”
Furious at the nerve of this newbie who dared to call her a lonely loser with no friends, she opened her mouth, ready to unleash her wrath.
“If you don’t have any friends, then hang out with me.”
“Huh?”
But with his next words, her rage melted away like smoke, replaced by a flicker of curiosity.
“H-hang out… with you…?”
To Ryu Jia, who had always lived freely, doing whatever she wanted, the concept of having a “friend” had never felt necessary.
But somehow, Yang Woobin’s casual suggestion of “Let’s hang out” piqued her interest.
“Then… should we hang out while making fried rice? And it’d be even better if we hang out while doing massages too…”
After all, her stomach and shoulders had already surrendered completely to Yang Woobin’s fried rice and massage from the day before.
Sure, her pride had made her tremble in shame on her bed last night, but that was just a mental issue.
Now that she had discovered the new realms of food and massage that Yang Woobin had shown her, there was no going back.
“The fried rice was really that good? Then I’ll put in a bit more effort today.”
“Yes! Let’s go, hurry!”
The resolution Ryu Jia had made the night before was already long gone from her heart.
***
One week.
“That newbie said he’d be a little late today, doing some practice with that one friend he supposedly has… I’m starving, though. I hope he gets here soon…”
It had only taken a week for the once most free-spirited Ryu Jia to willingly shackle herself to the chain named Yang Woobin.
“How does that guy always make food that’s exactly to my taste? I can’t even eat anything else now unless it’s his cooking.”
In just one week, Ryu Jia’s stomach had been completely conquered—she had become someone who couldn’t be satisfied with anything but his food.
“I told him I wouldn’t eat dinner until he got here. Even if he’s training, he should come soon, right? Hehe, I wonder what he’ll cook today. Hmph~”
Knock knock knock.
“He’s here!”
Ryu Jia, who had been endlessly waiting for Yang Woobin, shot up from the couch like a puppy and ran to the door.
“Hey! What’s with the polite knocking? That doesn’t suit you! Just come i—”
She threw the door open, but her words froze mid-sentence.
“H-hi… H-hello…”
Behind Yang Woobin stood a girl with ashen-gray hair, trembling as she hid behind him.
“…Who.”
Ryu Jia’s voice, as she directed her question toward Yang Woobin, was colder than ever before.
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