‘It’s fine. You got this.’

With steady hands, I slowly took them off my crotch. But one incorrect movement made it sting in pain.

“Ooooooooo.”

It wasn’t anything I had felt before. Everywhere else I was accustomed to. But not my groin. Not even my siblings—if they could be called siblings—attacked that area.

If I were to describe it, it was as though my genitals inverted into itself while twisting as it was screwed into my pelvis with a blunt nail.

Now that I visualized that cursed image, I knew it would haunt my dreams for years to come.

“That’s what happens when you don’t think before acting,” said God’s—I mean, Daniel’s voice.

For a second there, I thought I descended to the afterlife.

“Get up. It’ll be fine,” he said like a complete psycho. Did he not know what he just did?

If any other guys were watching, they’d immediately view him as a threat.

‘I need to get up.’

Even though him telling me to get up was ludicrous by normal standards, the best and greatest were not normal. So I shouldn’t be pursuing the normal either.

Sure, it hurt. But as I kept my mind off it, the pain became a backdrop for my action.

If anything, I should grit my teeth like I always did and move forward. I was the one who said I could handle pain, after all. I can’t go back on those words now.

‘It’s just pain.’

‘It’s just…’

It’s just that.

I didn’t need to pay heed to it. And I would never succumb to it. It was a friend; a testament to my growth.

My body still shivered from the aftershock, but that didn’t matter. All I needed to do was grip the ground harder with my feet to stand tall.

Like that, I imagined I looked like a soldier who had taken an arrow to the head, only to rise in triumph.

The front portion of my uniform was ripped open like it was a jacket without buckles or a zipper.

The backside of my uniform must have been tainted brown from the stains.

And my face was icky and gross seeing how the sweat dropped from my hair like a droplet of water trickling down a leaf.

I was a mess. But at the same time, a sensation from within my bones drove me to continue on as though I hadn’t been hurt.

My mind was invigorated, feeling at its best—something I hadn’t experienced in years.

‘Clarity.’

That was what it was. A sense of clarity for the first time in a long time. I knew what I needed to do and how to get there. It was telling me to take my first step here. Right now.

—Daniel—

‘God damn! How is he standing?’

I can’t even begin to imagine what his driving force was. All I could tell was that it wasn’t anything small. I guess it meant he was really taking this seriously.

‘What do I say?’

I don’t think I could say anything that could discourage him from continuing this fight.

Even purposefully mocking him didn’t hurt his psyche. Rather, he seemed more motivated after hearing the words coming out of my unpleasant mouth. That was the only conclusion I could draw after seeing how he rose from the grave.

While he hadn’t been done in by a truck, he may as well be on the level of a shitty isekai protagonist when it came to survival… I could tell from this act alone that he was the kind of person to break through the mold and surpass trends no matter what it was.

I was rather fond of these personalities for the precise reason that they usually tended towards fascinating careers. It was these types of people that blurred the distinction between film and reality. They lived their life like a true protagonist; much like him… Well, he’s a shell of what he used to be.

‘He doesn’t know what true fighting is like.’

I could tell that much from the way he postured himself to the chunkiness in his movements.

But that unrelenting spirit after succumbing to a blow encompassed a major aspect of true fighting.

Most people when they thought of fighting referred to combat sports like boxing or a flashy kung fu movie.

That was far from the truth.

Realistic fighting was the definition of hell.

Someone with the will to fight never backs down. And only when two of these types of people meet, will a true fight occur.

Like trench warfare back in the first war, there was the same feeling of despair creeping in at every instance as it slowly built up one by one until at last, it couldn’t be avoided.

Everyone is reminded of their mortality one day. But especially in times of violence, humans react in funny ways. It was the fragility of a human life that made it appear disgusting to most people as they wanted the truth to be fed to them with a prescription of sugar pills.

When they fall on their backs they realize it hurts. When they break a leg, they’ll feel as though it’ll never heal. And when they get a bullet lodged in their back, they’ll be reminded every day of how they almost died as they applied ointment that made the pain worse.

Catharsis in real fighting was rare.

I could do it if I wanted, but as with all things, there were consequences to be considered. And once those consequences were nullified, meaning was lost.

I once went on a rampage because… No. That has no relevance so it shouldn’t be brought up.

Point is—the fact that he stood up after that groin injury was commendable. Even to me, it was something that restored my faith. In the end, he was only, what? Twelve years old? Thirteen?

I wasn’t saying he was impressive or anything, he was just inspiring. Anyone could take a bullet to the head. But there was a difference between the one who smiled while doing it and the one who grimaced.

Which was why I couldn’t help myself from spouting more unscrupulous words.

“Look at you, you can’t even stand properly!”

He was wobbling.

Seeing that, I couldn’t stop the grin from surfacing.

‘I guess… Yeah.’

I wanted to be proven wrong once more.

So I said something audacious.

“If you can evade or block all my attacks in a single exchange, I’ll spar with you whenever you want.”

I was being cocky.

He didn’t respond. He couldn’t.

But his eyes could.

‘YES.’

My smile grew wider as I cracked my shoulders with a twist.

If I went full-on grappling on an amateur, they’d lose a thousand times out of a hundred.

But striking on the other hand…

‘I’ll give him a chance.’

With a quick snap of my left, my jab flickered twice across his chest. Once at his pectoralis minor, and the second at the solar plexus.

Third jab up high at his chin followed by a low kick from the outside that couldn’t be seen if he chose to guard. I aimed for the calf, specifically the gastrocnemius’s medial head.

He would have gotten hit by the first two shots. The second one aimed at his plexus would be a problem.

He was able to react to the third by bringing his hands in to protect his face.

But by doing that, he was also blocking his vision; meaning he didn’t know I performed a leg strike.

Except…

That was all a load of bullshit.

An astute reader—err, I mean—a big-brained chad with no need to indulge themself in a power fantasy would point out he couldn’t have blocked the face punch if I had knocked the wind out of him from hitting the solar plexus.

And that’s absolutely right. I didn’t do shit. Not yet at least.

‘I can’t move…’

The annoying blockage had come again, preventing me from attacking.

Over the course of this week, I came to understand my “freezing” condition a little better.

It had something to do with my heart.

That was still speculation on my part.

Anyway, where was I?

‘Ah yes.’

With a relaxed stance as both my hands came to neck level, I stared straight ahead at his chest.

He was taller than me by a head, but that didn’t mean shit when he was a complete amateur.

“Psst.”

With a quick peck at his man boobs, I immediately stopped, having realized something was wrong.

Seconds after my tap, his legs gave in as he fell forward, landing on me.

Falling with his head forward could cause big-time damage so I held him up; lucky bastard.

And sure enough, he was passed out.

I didn’t put much force behind that punch, meaning he had been out long before.

I brought one of my hands to his throat in a strangling motion as I felt for his pulse.

‘210.’

In other words, a true mad lad was in front of me.

He sold his soul for a fight that wasn’t even a fight.

“Oh? Eric? And…”

Hearing the unfamiliar voice, I looked to see a skinny teenager who was a lot taller than me.

If I were to act my age, I’d be intimidated by his appearance

“You must be his friend,” he said as he shoved his bangs to the side, tidying the mop on his head.

Like me but also unlike me, he had on a uniform different from the norm. It wasn’t black with red embroideries like mine, but a golden purple uniform with a tiny cloth at the back that acted as a cape of some sort. The silk sparkled a blue sapphire which provided a contrast with his own hair. While also blue, it was of a darker fade.

Now that I looked at it, the kid I was holding and the student before me looked very similar. The biggest differences would obviously be the height, uniform, and certain facial features. The guy who had passed out in my arms had a lighter blue reminiscent of spiky anime hair. It was befitting to say the least. As for the one before me, he looked like the kind who tried way too hard to look handsome.

“Granger Elric,” he introduced himself while keeping a distance. I noticed his line of sight lingering around my attire.

“Come on Granger, the new equipment should be in by now.”

“Yeah, let’s go already,” said the clique behind him as they caught up. They all wore the same uniform.

“Oh?—Who are they?” one of them asked.

“They looked lost so I thought I could help,” said the guy.

“Ah is that so. Well, freshmen are like that.”

“Anyway, let’s go already. I can’t wait to see what they did with the old vials!”

With that, the group turned away from us as they walked into the building.

The one who confronted us walked at the end of the group as he stared back at us.

‘...’

No matter how I thought about it, I just couldn’t wrap my mind around why he came up to introduce himself. Was it some sort of secret agenda? He did seem to know this annoying kid so it could have something to do with him. They both looked similar after all. Brothers perhaps?

Also, what the fuck did he say his name was?