Today, like any other day, she encounters her least favorite classmate, Kageno, at the school gate. "Good morning, Kageno," Akane greets him with a smile.
As always, Minoru responds in his usual monotonous tone, "Good morning, Nishimura."
Internally, Akane screams, "It's Nishino, not Nishimura!" However, she maintains her pleasant demeanor and heads towards the shoe rack.
For the past three months, they have been in the same class and have had the exact same exchange every morning. Akane initially thought that Minoru would eventually realize his mistake and correct it, so she didn't say anything about it for the first month.
But as Golden Week came and went, and Minoru still hadn't gotten her name right, Akane decided it was time to address the issue. She vividly remembers how that conversation played out...
'/
|
\'
"You know, Kageno, my name isn't actually Nishimura," Akane asserts, hoping for some progress.
"Huh?" Minoru blinks repeatedly, his face a mix of confusion and curiosity. "It isn't?"
"No, it's--"
"Wait, hold up. I remember now. You're a Named Character."
"A what?" Akane cocks her head, puzzled by the term.
"Never mind. I make sure to memorize the names of all the important characters, but I guess sometimes I get one wrong."
"Don't worry about it. It happens to everyone." Akane tries to brush it off, offering a forgiving smile.
But then, Minoru's next words freeze her in place.
"Sorry about that, Nishitani."
Akane clenches her fists, fighting the urge to deliver a right straight punch to that idiot's face. "...It's Nishino."
"Huh?"
"My name is Nishino." The tension fills the air, as the two stare each other down. The silence is so thick, you could slice it with a knife.
For the rest of the day, Akane refuses to utter another word to Minoru. However, as the next morning arrives, she finds her anger has subsided. After all, Minoru didn't mean any harm. It's not worth getting so worked up over a simple misremembered name.
So, she decides to greet him like usual and put the incident behind her.
"Morning, Kageno."
"Morning, Nishimura."
And just like that, they're back to square one! Akane wants to scream, but she masks her frustration with a determined smile.
What annoys her the most is how Minoru acts as if their conversation from yesterday never happened. He continues to call her Nishimura, never really looking at her. His gaze feels distant, as if focused on something far away.
Above all else, that's what truly gets under her skin. The name mix-up is annoying, but bearable. But feeling like she never enters his line of sight? That's unbearable.
And thus, her hatred for him starts to grow.
'/
|
\'
From then on, Akane starts going out of her way to avoid interacting with him. Some might call it the 𝘈𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘶 𝘖𝘭𝘺𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘴, where Akane takes home the gold medal in avoiding him at all costs.
She still greets him each morning, but that’s all.
Because let's be honest, who has the energy to do more than that for someone who can't even remember your name?
He keeps getting her name wrong, but she doesn’t bother correcting him anymore. It's like a never-ending game of 𝘎𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘈𝘬𝘢𝘯𝘦'𝘴 𝘕𝘢𝘮𝘦 where Minoru just can't seem to get it right.
She also avoids talking to him whenever possible, despite the fact that they’re seatmates.
If she absolutely doesn’t have a choice because of classwork or something like that, she keeps any conversations with him short and to the point.
Quick and painless, just like ripping off a band-aid.
She would prefer to just ignore him 24/7, but due to her unique circumstances, she wants to avoid doing anything that will make her stand out more than she already does.
Because being an attractive actress with dark and elegant hair isn't enough, right? And boy, does Akane Nishino stand out. Her dark hair is sleek and elegant, and she’s so attractive she draws the gazes of boys and girls alike.
She's a walking magnet for attention, and it's both a blessing and a curse. On top of that, she isn’t just a normal high school student. She also works as an actress. Because being a regular student wasn't challenging enough, she decided to juggle acting gigs on top of it all.
Her classmates know all about her job, of course. If they found out that she and Minoru were on poor terms, it could give rise to all sorts of unfortunate rumors.
Rumors like "Akane and Minoru: The Epic Feud" or "The Battle of the Seatmates." Or maybe something like them being past Ex-Lovers. Better to nip that possibility in the bud.
Akane was a fairly successful child actress, but around the time she started middle school, she was involved in a scandal and had to temporarily put her career on hold.
It's almost as if life decided to throw a curveball at her, just when she thought everything was going smoothly. Ever since then, Akane has been forced to hide her true self.
She’s had to play the part of the honor student to avoid being hated by her teachers, as well as the part of the popular girl to avoid being hated by the other students.
It's like she's starring in her own personal drama where she plays multiple roles to keep everyone happy. She’s lived her life trying not to give anyone a reason to resent her.
Because who needs enemies when you can have a whole class of resentful classmates? And so she’s done her utmost not to let that asshole Minoru hate her, either, nor to let anyone else realize how much she hates him.
Because nothing says peaceful high school life like an ongoing battle of dislike between seatmates.
'/
|
\'
Akane wasn't part of any school clubs, unlike most students. Instead of staying back after classes, she usually headed straight home.
But on that particular day, she had to attend supplementary lessons. Due to her demanding job, she often had to skip regular classes, making these supplementary lessons her only way to catch up on missed attendance.
As Akane finished up her other tasks and finally left, the sun had already set, casting a dim light over the school gate.
"And now my phone's dead too," she muttered with a sigh. Normally, she would have called her personal chauffeur, but with her phone out of battery, that option was sadly unavailable.
Fortunately, her house was just a half-hour walk away. It was definitely doable, especially since it was early summer, and the temperature was surprisingly pleasant even in the evening.
Akane decided to take this opportunity to stretch her legs and enjoy a change of pace.
It dawned on her that it had been a while since she last walked home from school. The last time she remembered doing so was during the walking bus in elementary school. Ever since she started middle school, her family had arranged a car to pick her up every day.
Because of this, the prospect of heading home on her own two feet excited her. She strolled down the dimly lit streets, free from any worries or concerns. However, her excitement caused her to let her guard down.
Suddenly, a sleek black station wagon pulled up beside her, and a muscular man stepped out. It took her a moment to register his presence.
"Huh?" she muttered, confusion clouding her expression.
Before she could react, the man swiftly wrapped his arm around her neck, applying pressure that quickly rendered her unconscious.
In a matter of seconds, everything went dark, and her last glimpse was of a familiar-looking young man with black hair rushing towards them.
'/
|
\'
"Ugh..."
As Akane slowly opens her eyes, she finds herself in a dimly lit warehouse, her surroundings unfamiliar and unsrttling. Her wrists and ankles are tightly bound, and a gag has been forced into her mouth, preventing her from making any coherent sounds or cries for help. Still groggy from the ordeal, fragments of the previous events flash through her mind - the menacing black car, the man's grip around her neck, and a fleeting glimpse of someone else nearby.
"Mmm! Mmmm!!" She attempts to call out for assistance, but the stifling gag renders her voice muffled and powerless.
"Oh hey, you're awake," a raspy male voice echoes from behind her. A shiver runs down her spine, and she freezes in fear.
"I suggest you stop struggling," the man continues, his voice laced with a menacing tone. "Unless you fancy getting hurt, that is."
The man towers over her, standing at an imposing six-foot-three. It's not just his size that intimidates her; his muscular frame is evident even through his clothing. Another man lurks in the shadows, hinting at their sinister collaboration.
"Don't worry, little missy," the second man interjects. "We've already sent a ransom note to your family. Once they pay up, you'll be back home unharmed in no time."
A wicked smile forms on the face of the larger man. "But I must say, you were rather careless. The heiress to the Nishino Zaibatsu, walking alone at night like a 𝗳𝘂𝗰𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗱𝗶𝗼𝘁? It's a wonder that some nefarious individuals didn't snatch you up sooner."
He chuckles mockingly, striding towards Akane, who lies helplessly on the ground.
"Mmmmm!" Her muffled protests fill the air, a desperate plea for him to stay away.
Determined to escape, she crawls across the unforgiving floor, trying to put some distance between them.
"Where do you think you're going, little missy?" the man taunts, seizing her slender legs and yanking her closer.
He forcefully lifts her chin, his gaze fixated on her captivating face. "Damn, girl. It's no surprise they allow you to work as an actress."
"Mmm! Mmmm!!" She vigorously shakes her head, attempting to resist his advances.
In response, the man's hand connects with her cheek in a harsh slap.
"!?..."
"Don't fight it," he sneers.
Blood fills Akane's mouth, and tears well up in the corners of her eyes, cascading down her cheeks.
"You know, I've heard this isn't your first encounter with the kidnapping train," he remarks with a chilling twitch in his expression.
Akane's body tenses, an indescribable mix of fear and anguish coursing through her.
"It was, like, totally back in the day when you first entered middle school, right? But, man, the last time around, I heard it was some creepy stalker who pulled this off."
The memories she desperately tried to erase come flooding back, rushing through her mind like a storm. Her entire body starts shaking uncontrollably.
"You know, I kinda get where that guy was coming from. So why are you so scared, kid?"
"...Mmm! Mmmmmmmmmmm!!"
"Just give up already. Ain't nobody coming to save you."
Akane tries to wriggle free, but the dude's strong arm keeps her pinned down.
Help!
And just when she's silently screaming for help on the inside, it happens.
First, it was footsteps on the roof.
Next, it was complete and utter silence.
And lastly...
It was the sound of breaking glass echoing across the abandoned warehouse.
"Who's there?!"
Moonlight spills in, casting a glow on the intruder standing atop a mountain of shattered glass.
Dressed in all black—black sweatshirt, black sweatpants, black work boots, and even a black ski mask covering his face—he looks hella sketchy. At first glance, it's pretty obvious he's with the kidnappers.
Clop. Clop. Clop.
His boots make a distinctive sound as he slowly approaches.
"Who the hell are you?!" the big guy yells.
"Who, me? Oh, I'm just your average, run-of-the-mill Fancy Hoodlum Slayer."
The Hoodlum Slayer pauses to adjust his ski mask. The eye holes were way off.
"What's this, some kinda joke?!"
As the big guy roars, his partner sneaks up behind the Hoodlum Slayer, swinging a bat at him.
It's the perfect surprise attack, or so they thought. But the Hoodlum Slayer dodges it like he's got eyes in the back of his head.
"Huh?!"
"You casted a shadow in the moonlight. You're a total newbie, I can't believe an idiot like you still exists out of jail."
"Y— you bitch!"
"𝖢𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝗺𝗮𝗹𝗱."
With that, the Hoodlum Slayer swiftly turns around, landing a solid punch on the second man. With his black attire blending into the darkness of the warehouse, his attack is practically invisible.
There's a muffled thud, and the accomplice collapses from the knees down. He doesn't budge an inch.
"That jaw strike... This guy's no amateur." The big guy releases Akane and rises to his feet. He cracks his neck while glaring at the Hoodlum Slayer. "Too bad for you, though—I'm ex-military." Bro thinks he's him.
He pulls out a knife, ready to strike.
The Hoodlum Slayer lowers his stance, getting ready for the showdown. "A military man, huh? Perfect. Always wanted to test my skills against a soldier."
The two men face off in the darkness.
They inch closer to each other, step by cautious step, until—
"Die!"
The kidnapper makes the first move.
With a sidelong stance, he lunges forward, wielding his knife.
You can totally believe this guy used to be in the military. Despite his bulk, his movements are quick and precise.
The knife aims for the Hoodlum Slayer's throat, but our hero tries to block it by raising his right arm.
A loud, metallic clang fills the air.
"What?!"
The knife gets caught on the Hoodlum Slayer's hand.
Upon closer inspection, the Hoodlum Slayer is holding something—a black crowbar.
And not only that, he's wielding it almost like a tonfa.
"A-a crowbar?!"
"Crowbars are the 𝗯𝗼𝗺𝗯, man. They're tough as nails, easy to find, portable, and you can totally talk your way out of trouble if the cops catch you with one... well, maybe. But the best part is, you can use 'em like tonfas."
"What?!"
In a split second, the Hoodlum Slayer spins his arm beneath the kidnapper's.
His crowbar swings through the air, crashing into the guy's arm.
The knife slips from the grasp of the villain, tumbling through the air.
"Oh no—"
In an instant, the crowbar retaliates against the perpetrator. The towering figure responds swiftly, raising his fists to defend himself.
The clash of the crowbar against his brawny muscles, and the grazing of his punch against the Hoodlum Slayer's ski mask, reverberate in the moonlit warehouse.
Yet, with each blow blocked, the Hoodlum Slayer is forced to retreat, step by step.
"Heh. Quite the disadvantage you've got," taunts the imposing figure, sending the Hoodlum Slayer stumbling once again.
"You're tough, I'll give you that. Clearly, you've been in your fair share of fights. But there's one glaring weakness. You're what, five seven, maybe one hundred and thirty pounds? Me, on the other hand, I stand at six three and weigh two hundred and fifty. Physically, we're not even in the same league. Crowbar or not, one of my punches would floor you." Confidence resonates in the man's voice. The Hoodlum Slayer silently fixes his gaze upon him.
"You're right. The sad truth is, as I am now, even a former soldier could pose a challenge..."
"Are you ready to give up?"
"𝗡𝗮𝗵... It just means I'll have to get serious." The Hoodlum Slayer adjusts his stance.
"What?"
"You know, I always saw crowbars as having a bright future. Their tonfa-like shape, weight, sturdiness, and portability... They were filled with untapped potential. So, night after night, as I beat down those obnoxious delinquents on their motorcycles, I came to a realization..."
"No way! You're the 𝗦𝗸𝗶 𝗠𝗮𝘀𝗸 𝗕𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿, the one who's been striking fear into the local motorcycle gangs with nothing but a crowbar?!"
It's practically legendary how the motorcycle gangs in the area now wear helmets because of the Ski Mask Berserker. Wearing a helmet is the only way to stay safe when you never know when an attack may come.
"You see, after beating those motorcycle gangs, I realized that while crowbars can be used like tonfas... the best thing to do with them is simply whack people!" The Hoodlum Slayer brings his crowbar down with force, aiming for his opponent's face.
It's a powerful swing, fast as lightning, brimming with raw and unbridled violence.
The kidnapper raises his arm to shield his head, but a dull thud resonates.
"Rrgh! My arm...," he groans, clutching it in pain.
"It's probably broken. You see, the secret to unlocking a crowbar's potential is to strike with the outer bend. You'd think hitting with the pointed end would be best, but that's a rookie mistake."
As he explains, he adjusts his grip. Not like this, like this.
Then, he strikes the kidnapper once more.
His movements are fluid, as if it's the most natural thing in the world. In that moment, the kidnapper catches a glimpse of the true identity of the man who has defeated countless bikers.
"Agh! Wait, hold on—"
𝗪𝗵𝗮𝗺, 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝗺. Suck it!
"Cut it out, we can—"
𝗪𝗵𝗮𝗺, 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝗺, 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝗺. More!
"Geh... Guhhh..."
𝗪𝗵𝗮𝗺, 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝗺, 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝗺, 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝗺! Take the L!
The echoing thuds fill the warehouse. Violence is power, and the Hoodlum Slayer embodies that ideal.
With unwavering determination, he continues to bring down his crowbar, until finally, the burly kidnapper ceases to move.
Drops of blood drip from the crowbar. 𝗗𝗿𝗶𝗽. 𝗗𝗿𝗶𝗽. 𝗗𝗿𝗶𝗽. 𝗗𝗿𝗶𝗽. 𝗗𝗿𝗶𝗽. 𝗗𝗿𝗶𝗽. 𝗗𝗿𝗶𝗽.
"It's no use. How can I ever reach my destination if I struggle against a mere ex-soldier? I need to become stronger."
He gazes up at the moon, hanging in the sky outside the window—"I need more 𝗽𝗼𝘄𝗲𝗿..."—and reaches out his hand longingly.
It's as if he is trying to grasp the moon, even though it will forever be out of reach.
In an act of defiance against this harsh reality, he shakes his head, then turns and fixes his gaze on Akane. He picks up the knife the man had dropped and approaches her.
"Mmm—MMMMM!"
Akane senses the imminent danger and attempts to flee, but there is nowhere to run. The knife descends upon her with merciless efficiency.
"Mmm?"
It slices through the restraints on her wrists and ankles. Now free, she looks up at the mysterious man in black, wearing a ski mask and wielding a crowbar.
He, in turn, looks down at her— "From now on, be more cautious on your way home, alright? —and offers her a piece of advice.
Akane watches as he walks away and finally disappears out of sight.
"...that voice... and what kind of name even is 𝘍𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘺 𝘏𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘭𝘶𝘮 𝘚𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘳?" Akane wonders, cringing and chuckling to herself a bit.
'/
|
\'
.
..
I...
....
.....
......
.......
honestly don't even know what...
....
.....
......
.......
........
.........
catalyzed this desire of mine...
....
.....
......
All I know is...
....
.....
......
.......
that I've admired shadowbrokers...
....
.....
......
.......
for a long time...
....Was it some anime, perhaps?
.....Or maybe a manga—or even a movie?
Well, who cares really?
I was captivated by anything that showcased a genius, a true mastermind, or what I like to refer to as the eminence in shadow.
These characters were never the star of the show or the final boss, but rather lurked in the background, flaunting their powers and meddling in the affairs of others.
I've always admired those hidden figures, the men in the shadows.
I yearned to be one of them.
Imagine the way children worship their beloved superheroes.
That was me, but instead of caped crusaders, I idolized the master puppeteers.
However, there was one thing that set us apart: my admiration for them was not fleeting. It ingrained itself deep within my heart, never fading away, always guiding me through life.
To become stronger, I delved into various disciplines, learning everything from karate to boxing, from swordplay to mixed martial arts. I poured my heart and soul into every practice session, concealing my true potential from the world, preparing for the day when destiny would call.
At school, I played the role of the pleasant mediocre student, just another face in the crowd.
Like an insignificant NPC in a video game or a background character. I caused no harm and attracted no attention. But behind this facade of normalcy, I trained relentlessly, pushing myself to the limits.
That was how I spent my youth. But as time went on, a sense of unease began to creep into my mind. I realized that perhaps I was due for a reality check.
Yes, that's right.
It was all in vain.
I came to the stark realization that I would never attain the unfathomable power of those shadow commanders in my beloved stories.
However, no matter the scope of my talents, there are inherent limits I cannot overcome. How am I to contend with a group of armed military agents converging upon me? The result seems predetermined—death and futility.
And what of a grenade's direct impact? Should I simply stroll away unscathed? Ultimately, I am still human, and my mortality cannot be negated.
From a landmine's detonation to the destructive power of a rocket launcher—and even the horrifying spectre of a nuclear bomb—I am forced to acknowledge my fragility.
After enduring the impact of any of these horrors, survival evades me, for I remain bound by my humanity. That's right! I am only 𝗵𝘂𝗺𝗮𝗻. That's all I ever will be.
Consider an unimaginable calamity—a meteor spanning 10, 20, 30, or even 100 kilometres hurtling toward the Earth. Could I weather such a cataclysm? The answer is plain: I, as ever, am merely 𝗵𝘂𝗺𝗮𝗻.
As I navigate the realm of shadows, I contemplate these inherent limitations with a heavy heart.
The idea of a shadowbroker being overpowered by soldiers, it's laughable. Let's say I trained for another ten years or became the greatest martial artist in the world. I would still be no match for a gang of commandos.
Even if, by some miracle, I managed to hold my ground, they could wipe me off the face of the earth with a single nuclear strike as I said. The limits of the human body are well-established, and I know that truth all too well.
And yet, my revered puppeteers would never fall victim to such a fate.
Therefore, I needed to possess a resilience that surpassed even the destructive power of a nuclear attack.
What does one need to survive such a cataclysm?
Is it sheer physical strength?
Perhaps an impenetrable body?
Unending endurance, maybe?
No, no, and no. The key to surviving lies in an altogether different kind of power.
Some call it magic, others mana, chi, or aura. It doesn't really matter what name you give it. I needed to obtain this hidden ability, this clandestine power. It was a conclusion I arrived at when I finally mustered the courage to face reality head-on.
Allow me to explain further. Imagine someone on a quest to obtain magical powers.
It sounds utterly absurd, doesn't it? I, too, would have thought them mad. But consider this—we have not definitively proved the existence or nonexistence of magic.
To find these powers, I had to venture into the depths of madness, risking my own sanity in the process.
I embarked on a training regimen that seemed almost impossible to achieve. After all, no one truly knows how to acquire magic, mana, chi, or auras.
I delved into Zen meditation and subjected myself to the purification ceremony of standing under waterfalls. I turned my focus inward, fasting and mastering the art of yoga. I even explored different religions, searching for holy spirits and praying to God. I went to extreme lengths, even strapping myself to a cross. There was no right answer, so I stumbled through the darkness, sprinting down my chosen path.
And yet, here I am. About to embark on my final summer as a high schooler, and I have yet to discover those elusive magical powers.
As I finish my daily training session in the forest, darkness has already befallen the sky. I pick up my underwear, discarded to the side, and slip into my school uniform. I may not have attained those secret magical skills yet, but I believe I am starting to feel the effects of my training.
Right now, in this moment, I perceive flashing lights in my mind and a sense of the world spinning. It could be magic, or perhaps auras. Regardless, I can feel its impact, and I am proud to announce another successful session.
When I am fully immersed in my practice, I strip myself of every article of clothing, communing with nature in the forest. It makes me feel connected to the universe. I forcefully collide my skull against the trunk of a towering tree, attempting to rid my mind of worldly thoughts and stimulate my brain, urging my dormant powers to awaken.
Logic guides me through these endeavors, or so I believe.
Suddenly, everything begins to blur around me. It is a sensation akin to giving myself a concussion. With the lightest of footfalls, I make my way out of the forest, feeling like I am walking on clouds.
And then, I see them: two beams of light floating in the air, slicing through the space before me. It is strange, almost ethereal. They beckon me, urging me to follow their guidance.
"Magic...?" I whisper, my steps growing lighter as I tiptoe towards the illumination.
It must be... It has to be! I have finally found the powers of the unknown!
Without hesitation, I transition from walking to sprinting, stumbling over roots and continuing my staggering advance through the forest, like a determined creature in search of its prize.
"Magic! Magic! Magic! 𝘔𝘈𝘎𝘐𝘊, 𝙈𝘼𝙂𝙄𝘾, 𝗠𝗔𝗚𝗜𝗖!!!!" I chant, bounding towards the lights, ready to seize them from the very air...
But then, my senses are overwhelmed by blinding whiteness as a pair of headlights flood my vision. The shrill screech of brakes fills the air, ringing and echoing relentlessly.
And then it happens. A collision. The impact jolts through my body, shattering my magic...
In the end, I did manage to find magical powers.
As I open my eyes, I can sense the energy surrounding me, although it seems different from those two lights I encountered. But hey, it's not a big deal. Oh, and there's another small detail to mention: somehow, as a side effect, I have been reincarnated.
Perhaps my discovery of magic opened a door to another world. But the more logical conclusion would be I was an idiot and somehow died— then I got reincarnated. Or maybe it's just some random occurrence....
Whatever it is, it doesn't really matter.
In the present moment, I am a baby boy, just a few months old. My thoughts are still forming, and it's difficult for me to gauge the passage of time. I don't know any words yet, but it's enough for me to recognize that this civilization resembles Europe during the Middle Ages.
But all of that is inconsequential. What matters is that I now possess magical powers. That's the ultimate achievement. I couldn't care less about how it happened or any additional abilities that came with it.
I notice the presence of magic as soon as I become conscious. I can see tiny specks of light floating and shimmering all around me. It reminds me of the moments in my previous life when I frolicked naked in fields, in search of spirits. Surprisingly, it seems that my past training was not entirely in vain.
My ability to detect this magical energy is proof enough. Moreover, I can control it effortlessly, much like I controlled my limbs. It's reminiscent of the times when I strapped my naked body to a cross, a strange homage to Jesus, or when I experimented with different religious practices and prayed in the nude.
Perhaps every little aspect of my training sessions has ultimately contributed to this newfound strength and understanding.
Besides, time holds no significance for a baby. I am ready to utilize these initial years to train and become an eminent figure in the shadows once and for all... Oh, wait, I think I just made a mess.
Speaking of which, I vaguely recall hearing somewhere that birds release their droppings involuntarily, and it seems that human babies are similar in this regard. Despite my attempts to fight against it with logic and reasoning, it feels as though my instincts take over, whispering "Just do it" in my ear.
But this is me we're talking about. In my past life, I dedicated my waking hours to training. So, with all the strength I can muster in my tiny body, I clench my muscles, buying myself some time...
"Wwwaaaahhhhh!"
...to summon help.
—————————
'This is my first fanfiction on this account, I used a paraphraser for some parts since I'm not entirely good at grammar shi but hopefully the majority is good enough.
Also this is going to be based of the light novel, just got my hands on volume 6 of the light novel, I'm boutta havr a great time.'
2*— 𝐑𝐞𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐬𝐨 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐡...