After the teacher left the classroom, the noise slowly began to rise.
Whispers spread, arguments sparked, and the room dissolved into a dull storm of overlapping voices.
I lowered my gaze and sat with my thoughts.
*Would my approach really work?*
The art of disappearance—
to erase yourself,
to lower your head,
to move through the world without leaving a mark.
Could such an approach survive in a place like this?
Perhaps it would have worked back in the back alleys—my old home.
There, if you knew your place and kept yourself hidden, no one bothered provoking you or killing you.
As long as you didn't raise your head.
As long as you didn't overstep.
In the alleys, killing a gang leader like me—even if my gang wasn't particularly strong—required effort.
Losses.
A price.
Here, in this supernatural world,
a single *desire* could be enough.
No planning.
No struggle.
No real cost.
So could my approach truly work here?
Prominence and fame were a double-edged sword, yes—
But they were still better than being invisible.
The unseen die quietly.
Those without allies.
Those no one remembers.
If I had been in Amanda's place when she defied the teacher…
Would he really have let me walk away?
I doubted it.
In a place like this, standing out was better than hiding.
I pulled myself out of my thoughts and glanced to the side.
Miranda was staring ahead, lost in her own mind—just as I had been.
So I spoke.
"Hey. Where did all that chatter go?
Yesterday you wouldn't leave me alone just to argue.
What happened?"
She looked at me blankly, confusion written all over her face.
I continued, my tone flat, almost bored.
"Or are you really that much of a coward?"
Her expression tightened.
"First of all, I'm not a coward.
Second, anyone who *isn't* afraid in a situation like this is the strange one.
And why do you keep calling me stupid?"
I raised a finger and tapped my temple.
"That's why.
Do you really not understand?
If a bastard like Bam went through these rituals, do you honestly think they're impossible?"
I didn't give her time to respond.
"Or do you believe Bam's words as well?
Didn't he admit to himself that he enjoys watching newcomers suffer?
Would scum like that ever be honest with you about something like this?"
I exhaled slowly.
"That's why I call you stupid.
Ask yourself again—
would there even *be* mages if these rituals were impossible?"
I paused.
"Yes.
They're painful.
They're extremely difficult.
But they are not impossible."
Otherwise, we wouldn't still be seeing a lunatic like him standing there.
Miranda's jaw slackened.
She stared at me as if she were looking at something unfamiliar.
"…You think?" she said quietly.
"I never imagined there were rational thoughts beneath that blood-red hair.
I thought it was nothing but violence."
I immediately regretted helping her.
Still, I answered coldly.
"And are your thoughts as shallow as your relationships?
You say my head is full of violence—
but at least it *thinks*."
I continued before she could speak.
"And remind me—what did you call me yesterday?
Ungrateful, wasn't it?"
I looked away in faint disgust.
"Here I am, offering you my time and my thoughts, pulling you out of your panic…
And how do you repay me?"
"By mocking my appearance?
By calling me a brute?"
I changed my mind then.
Completely.
If I were going to abandon my old approach,
I would do so properly—
and replace it with something I actually believed in.
I turned away from her and pressed a hand to my head.
"Ah… the past.
When people still understood gratitude."
I added, dryly:
"What a tragedy."
Miranda looked as if she might faint.
All her life, she had never expected to hear words like these from someone who looked like nothing more than a mass of muscle.
But appearances lied.
A fox, disguised as a bull.
She clenched her teeth, forcing the words out.
"…Thank you. From the bottom of my heart."
I looked back at her.
"Yes.
That's how you do it.
Learn how to thank people."
I paused.
"And from now on—
call me *Master*."
Her face darkened instantly.
I waved it off.
"Oh, how curious.
You provoke others without hesitation,
Yet when they provoke *you*… You lose your temper?"
A faint smirk touched my lips.
"I'm clearly joking.
But you seem to take everything far too seriously."
.
I turned away.
"You're a strange one."