‘I should be exercising.’

But I couldn’t find the motivation in me. I knew the problem all came back to me and my lack of something. Strength, knowledge, mentality; the list went on. And my discipline had never been a great attribute of mine. It was only a thing I learned from copied from someone else.

‘I wish I could read.’

Life was exciting and all, especially in this world. Compared to that dumpster fire, this place was a lot more pleasant. Was it homesickness? I doubted it.

I was nomadic by nature.

I say that, yet, I had never camped in the wild once; not that I could have even accessed one.

Anime, manga, books. Life would be pretty dull without them. There were no books like “Critique of Pure Reason” which I could shit on as much as I wanted to. Heck, those riddles that made my mind boggle on sight as to their intentions or the meaning was something I lived—no, something I could spend leisure on.—Time.

Time, oh Time. It was really the only thing that drove me to forget about its existence, presence, or whatever the hell it even was.

Fantasy books were fun for a while, but they got dull. Those shitty Japanese Isekais were all riddled with disappointments. Everything was power this power that. It’s kind of meaningless, isn’t it? What was the point of having so much power? I would have killed myself out of my own Pathétique.

And yet, strength was the only thing I could rely upon with my sea of useless knowledge. I could see myself sailing on the same boat as all those mindless harem protagonists now. Just why?

Why do I need strength? What am I training for? Why don’t I just stop?

There was food here. There was shelter here. There was water. Those three things were more than enough to guarantee my survival.

I could sit back and watch the world change as I did before.

But the present was never as interesting as the past. And I had nothing else to do apart from reading—yet, I was damned to not be able to read.

And music… I knew somewhere out there, there would be music somewhere. But I also knew it wouldn’t satisfy me nearly as much as the classical works composed by a fiddle’s shrill or the steady yet enthusiastically upbeat rock songs.

‘Without music life really would be a mistake.’

I think I could sympathize with what he said.

That mad man’s words.

‘Books, huh.’

Something I never thought I would yearn for in such an interesting place.

In a sense, I guess that’s what he meant. Like how he trained so hard every day, I liked reading because I wanted to. I never thought of it as “like,” but I suppose for most healthy people it was called a hobby regardless of the reality being an addiction.

At this point, I didn’t even know where I was going. What am I doing with my life? Why am I just walking aimlessly?

The school building had already disappeared from sight while campus greenery was the only thing that stayed.

‘Can I keep going like this?’

I wasn’t sure.

Even a no would have been fine. But I always had the worst response.

And as if a certain fellow in the sky heard me, a voice cranked in my head, exposing my idiotism.

[A new order of books has come in. The shop has been refreshed.]

~~~~~~~~~~

Books (Refreshes Monthly):

The Many Ways to Combat Blood Suckers (Rare) - 1,000 MP

Agent Seven Double O (Rare) - 1,000 MP

Chronicles of a Conman (Rare) - 1,000 MP

~~~~~~~~~~

Like a professional businessman, the system had catered to my selfishness.

I wanted to reject it, for I hadn’t a shred of rationale. It was problematic. And stupid.

But while my mind was muddled, I was fine with it. I was fine with my priorities being disordered. Life had no template, manual, or instructions.

‘Can I really do whatever I want?’

‘What do I even want in the first place?’

Whatever this system was, it knew me too well. Ironically enough, I can’t remember a single person other than him who would see through me like this.

‘...’

But that suggestion was impossible.

‘Stupid bastard.’

But it does make me wonder if there was an omniscient creator who created this “system”—created just to babysit me.

And that creator knew the only thing I couldn’t save myself from.

—Samantha—

“You look like a lady so why can’t you eat with the same dignity? Seriously?!”

“But the food here is too good!” I exclaimed with my mouth full.

“Uh…” She looked at me with a face of disgust.

“Say, why are your eyes different colors?” I asked

“My eyes? I was born with it. Why do you ask?”

“It looks really cool!” I gave a thumbs up.

“Not really. My right eye…hurts sometimes… But you were pretty cool earlier.”

“Earlier?”

“Yeah, just how did you break everyone’s sword when yours is also made of wood?”

“Break? What do you mean? A sword is supposed to cut things isn’t it?” I didn’t understand what she was talking about.

“You… Just stop speaking with your mouth full…” She was rubbing her head with her palm, something Daniel always did when he was sad about something.

I continued shoveling food into my mouth while saying, “But I can speak just fine like this.”

Before she could say anything in retort, a loud bang drew our attention to the table closest to us.

“Oops sorry about that.” The red-haired student said with an unfaithful scowl.

“Oh… Eh, n-no. It’s fine. I’ll… I’ll w-w-watch where I-I walk next time. S-sorry.” The black-haired student tried getting up but fell again.

“It looks like you need to go to the infirmary.” The red-haired one said with the same smirk.

“W—infirmary? No no no I’m fine. I’m fine. P-please it’s nothing. It’s just a scratch.” He tried getting up to prove it but somehow tripped on something again.

“A scratch? What is that then? You Liar.” The student got off his seat and crouched down to look at his face.

“W-what? T-that’s… Er. J-just a flesh wound sir.” He struggled to get up with his eyes glued to the floor.

“No no. I, Eric Evergreene of the upstanding Evergreene house cannot simply stand when someone needs me. Come here you! TO THE INFIRMARY!!!” He said with a disturbingly fat grin.

“How just! As one should expect of an Evergreene.” At some point, a professor had appeared to see what was up with the commotion before leaving with a pleased smile.

The black-haired student with a lanky build kept wiggling about, trying to escape from the red-haired student’s grasp before giving up as he was dragged away. That broken posture coupled with the despair in his eyes was something I had only seen once before, mirrored in the eyes of someone I held dear.

‘I don’t know him.’

I convinced myself to stay put, but I wasn’t sure if I could.

‘What would Daniel do?’

He would be calm and ignore it. Like he always did…

“What’s with the long face? Did you eat too much and want to throw up?” Melissa chimed in with a gloomy expression as if she knew exactly what was going to happen to that student. And she couldn’t care.

‘Why?’

I didn’t understand this apathy that everyone had.

‘Daniel would help anyone in need.’

That was a lie.

‘He would help anyone.’

But it was the truth.

‘He always helped me.’

So I got up.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” I said without turning back.