Ding.
Ding!
Ding!!!
"The hell..." Blake groaned, rolling onto his side and blindly swiping at the air as if he could physically smack the sound away.
The translucent interface didn’t budge.
[ Reward: Skill from the Spinning Wheel ]
[ Press here → ⚫ ]
He squinted at it through half-lidded eyes. Pale morning light filtered through his curtains, dust motes drifting lazily in the beam. His alarm hadn’t even gone off yet.
"Why is the first thing I have to see in the morning you?"
The system did not dignify that with a response.
Blake flopped onto his back and stared at the ceiling for a few seconds, brain slowly booting up.
Then he abruptly sat up.
"Huh? A reward? But you didn’t say—"
[ Since you completed such a difficult mission, we decided to give you a reward, Dear Host. ]
Blake grinned.
"Finally! It’s been so long since you gave a reward! Ungrateful bastard."
[ ... ]
He swung his legs off the bed and stood, stretching until his back popped. He felt lighter.
He padded over to his desk and tapped the black circle floating in midair.
The interface expanded, forming a glowing wheel divided into colored segnts that spun faster and faster.
Blake held his breath.
"Co on, give sothing broken. Sothing OP that makes the mission easier. I deserve it after that suicidal apology!"
The wheel slowed.
[ I’ll Sneak For My Lover! (B) ]
Blake blinked.
"...Woah. Finally. That’s not such a low grade."
His only two skills were depressing C’s and D’s, a B felt like a promotion.
[ Effect: Enhances speed, agility and, most importantly, allows you to beco undetectable. Activates by command. ]
He raised an eyebrow.
"? What is this? Why a physical skill?"
No response.
’Ah, whatever. I don’t have the ti to think about sothing like that.’
He grabbed his uniform from the back of his chair and began dressing. His reflection in the mirror looked less tragic than yesterday, still faintly puffy around the eyes, but alive.
’Undetectable, huh...’
He ran a hand through his hair.
’Right... now that I think about it, Myles should have spies around. Probably it’s because of that.’
Because soone like Myles didn’t move through the world alone.
Blake paused mid-button.
Soone like Myles destroyed buildings on the other side of the country and ca ho past eleven like it was a late shift at a convenience store.
"Yeah," he muttered. "Definitely spies."
His stomach growled.
He headed to the kitchen and poured cereal into a bowl.
As he ate, he tested the skill.
"I’ll sneak for my lover."
The air shifted.
It wasn’t flashy or anything, but his body felt lighter. Quieter. The hum of the refrigerator seed louder than his own presence.
He stepped in front of the mirror.
He was still visible.
"Hey!"
[ Dear Host, undetectable does not an invisible. It suppresses presence. ]
"...Then it’s basically useless."
He deactivated it with another thought.
The subtle tension in the air returned.
Blake shoveled the last of his cereal into his mouth and checked the ti.
After two days of crying, spiraling, and waiting for the system to decide whether he lived or died, he was tired.
Today, however, he had a presentation.
"...You couldn’t have rebooted after school?" he muttered.
[ No. ]
He sighed heavily. "Of course not."
***
The school gates lood ahead, loud and unfamiliar as ever.
Students clustered in groups. Laughter carried across the courtyard. The winter air bit at his cheeks.
Blake adjusted the strap of his bag.
He’d faced potential death.
A presentation was nothing.
...Probably.
The mont he stepped into the classroom, his eyes found Myles.
He sat in his usual spot by the window, posture straight, papers neatly stacked. The morning light caught in his dark hair, giving him an almost unfair glow.
Blake’s face heated. ’You have hugged him. Begged. Confessed. This is nothing.’
Half a second later, he slid into the seat beside him without asking. "Are you, uh... ready for the presentation?" Blake asked, holding his breath without realizing it.
Myles looked up. "Yes."
Blake nodded stiffly. "Okay."
The silence stretched. ’Why am I being so awkward,’ Blake scread internally.
Thankfully, their teacher called them up before he could combust.
They stood at the front of the class, presentation slides projected behind them.
Topic: Justice in Modern Society.
Blake cleared his throat first. "Our project focuses on the idea of justice, not just as punishnt," he began, forcing his voice steady, "but as balance, restoration and accountability."
He glanced sideways.
’This probably won’t convert him but... let’s hope he doesn’t look too disgusted while speaking of justice.’
Of course, that was an useless worry. Myles picked up seamlessly.
"Justice is often perceived as retribution," Myles said calmly. "However, modern systems attempt to incorporate rehabilitation. Whether they succeed is another matter."
Blake clicked to the next slide. Charts appeared. Cri rates, recidivism statistics, public opinion surveys.
’To think his alter ego is also included in these statistics...’
He explained their research.
Myles analyzed the ethical implications.
They moved in rhythm, unexpectedly synchronized.
By the ti they finished, the classroom was quiet.
Then, a lazy applause.
The teacher nodded approvingly. "Very well structured. Excellent teamwork."
Teamwork.
Blake’s face almost scrunched up, then, he risked a glance at Myles.
Myles rely adjusted his papers. "Thank you."
They returned to their seats.
Blake exhaled. "That went well?" he said cautiously.
"Yes."
Another pause.
Blake fidgeted with the edge of his sleeve. "You explained the rehabilitation part really clearly."
Myles tilted his head slightly. "You organized the data well."
’Huh, is he complinting ??’
Another silence.
’Well, what do I know about him, anyway.’
Blake stared at his desk.
He had never read the novel, so he doesn’t know whether Myles has a reason to be evil.
’Who knows, maybe he was born that way. Eh, that doesn’t sound right, of course.’
He had never read the novel, after all, but apparently the final villain was shown less than five tis. No backstory. Just destructiveness.
Ding.
Blake sighed internally, glancing at the system.
[ Mission: Exchange notes with Myles Cortez in class. ]
[ Ti Limit: 5 hours. ]
[ Current Favorability: -5 ]
[ Penalty: Favorability decay. ]
He raised an eyebrow.
’What the... this is so random. Besides, he’s literally my seatmate, I could just whisper.’
Yet, he imdiately tore out a piece of paper.
Myles didn’t spare him a glance, but of course, Blake knew he noticed.
A realistic, casual question would be...
Did you manage to sleep? You got ho so late yesterday.
Myles looked down at the note, then up at Blake.
"You also got ho late yesterday. Waiting for ."
Blake scratched the back of his head.
If you wanna know, then write it down...
Myles stared at him, his expression flat, almost unimpressed.
For how long did you wait yesterday?
[ Notes exchanged. Mission complete. ]
Why? It wasn’t much.
How long?
I got there around 6 p.m.
Myles stilled, his attention drifting back to the other students’ presentations.
***
The final bell rang.
For a mont, everything felt normal: chairs scraping, voices rising, bags zipping. Then soone by the window cursed.
"Since when is it raining like that?!"
Blake frowned, slinging his bag over his shoulder as he turned toward the glass.
It wasn’t just rain.
It was pouring.
Sheets of water slamd against the windows, the sky a dull gray that didn’t match the bright, sunny afternoon from barely an hour ago.
’Seriously?’
He pulled out his phone, checking the forecast again.
Sunny all day.
Of course.
Blake clicked his tongue, irritation bubbling up as he made his way toward the exit with the rest of the crowd.
The mont the doors opened, the sound hit harder, rain pounding against pavent, students groaning as they got stuck under the awning.
So tried to make a run for it and, of course, most imdiately regretted it.
Blake shoved his hands into his pockets, already calculating how soaked he’d get if he sprinted ho.
’There is no point in waiting for it to finish. Maybe if I—’
He stopped.
A few steps ahead, standing just outside the entrance, was Myles.
Holding an umbrella.
Blake blinked.
’...No way.’
His eyes narrowed slightly.
’Don’t tell he has weather prediction as a power too?’
Because there was no way this could be possible. No one else had brought an umbrella. Not a single person.
And yet, there Myles was, perfectly dry, like this had all been expected.
Blake exhaled, already moving toward him.
"Hey Myles."
Myles glanced at him, waiting.
Blake tilted his head slightly toward the umbrella.
"You mind sharing? We get into the sa bus, anyway..."
A pause.
Rain hamred louder around them. Students rushed past in desperate dashes.
Myles looked at him for a second longer than necessary.
"...Get under."
Blake didn’t need to be told twice.
He stepped in beside him, close enough that their shoulders brushed, the sound of rain dulling instantly beneath the umbrella.
For a mont, neither of them spoke.
He glanced at the umbrella, then at Myles.
’Guess it can be lucky to have him around, after all.’
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