Life is beautiful.
I rediscovered that fact today—right after almost collapsing from exhaustion.
Thankfully, the ring in my pocket kicked in just in time. Boosted my recovery enough that I could crawl away from the brink of death and into something far better:
Food.
Ladies and gentlemen, I am proud to say that I devoured three full plates of fried chicken rice.
What? Why are you looking at me like that?
I'm a growing young man, okay? I need calories if I want to build a heroic, non-crumbly body. This is science.
And right now, I was halfway through my fourth plate.
I took another glorious bite, leaned back in my chair, and let out a long, blissful sigh. Then, with my hands clasped like I was praying, I sent a silent tribute.
Rest in peace, noble chicken. Your sacrifice will not be forgotten.
Your crispy, juicy legacy now lives on in my belly.
Honestly, I owed my life to that chicken. But there was someone else I needed to thank, too.
"Thanks so much, Professor," I said, glancing across the table.
Professor Lena sat across from me, sipping tea with a small, amused smile playing on her lips.
And that smile? Yeah, it made my brow twitch a little.
I had my suspicions before, but now I was sure—she was getting more casual with me.
Not that I minded. In fact, it was a win.
It meant she felt comfortable enough to let her guard down.
For someone like her? That was huge.
"I'm just glad you're okay," she said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "You looked like you were going to pass out the moment you dropped to your knees. Scared me half to death."
She placed a hand over her chest as she spoke, and—okay, I glanced. Just for half a second.
You'd have done the same. Don't judge me.
Even her shirt couldn't quite hide the, uh… statistical power scaling going on there.
'108, huh? Now that's a hidden stat bonus.'
"How was it?" she asked suddenly.
"Huh!?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Why do you look like I just caught you committing tax fraud? I meant the food. The chicken rice. Good, right?"
"O-oh! Yeah. The chicken rice! It was great. Amazing, actually."
I nearly choked on air.
I mean—I barely looked! It was just a glance! No ill intentions! None!
...Okay, maybe like 0.2. But I'm only human.
"Well," I said quickly, trying to get things back on track, "it was really good, but honestly… the one you made last time tasted even better."
Smooth, right?
I wasn't one of those clueless transmigrators who just blurted "It's tasty" and called it a day.
Compliments? They're free. But they work wonders.
And judging by the way her smile softened into something warm and genuine, yeah. Totally worth it.
"I'm glad you liked it," she said. "Actually… this place was my brother's favorite. He used to drag me here all the time."
"Ah, I see."
Her voice had shifted—gentler now. A little distant.
"He'd say I made better fried chicken rice than this place, but he still came here. Said it reminded him of something... I don't even know what."
A quiet pause hung in the air between us.
Shit. Fuck.
I shouldn't have said that about her food.
Now I'd accidentally dragged a memory of her dead brother into our casual dinner.
I didn't want to ruin the mood—or her day.
"You really do resemble him," she murmured, almost to herself.
But I heard it. Loud and clear.
I turned away instinctively, looking out the window, pretending to admire the setting sun.
I didn't know what to say.
She was kind. Caring. Helpful.
But right now… I didn't want to be her brother.
I didn't want to be someone she pitied, or protected, or saw as a stand-in for someone she'd lost.
Not yet.
Not like this.
So I said nothing, and just watched the sky turn gold and crimson, waiting for the moment to pass.
***
After thoroughly enjoying that plate of chicken rice—and somehow deepening my weird little bond with Professor Lena—I found myself facing a brand-new challenge.
Yeah.
Even though the semester hadn't officially started, the dorm still had a curfew.
So, with Professor Lena walking me back like some overly concerned guardian angel, I eventually arrived at the dorm just before curfew hit.
And now came the real problem.
My room.
Specifically… my roommate.
Knock knock.
"Hm? Oh, Rin Evans?"
A voice answered almost instantly.
I sighed.
Yep.
There was definitely someone inside that I wasn't emotionally prepared to deal with right now.
"Yeah, it's me."
"The door's open. Just come in."
Leon Harper.
Well… Leona Harper, technically.
Seriously, what was the author thinking when he named this character? It's like he just picked names out of a hat.
Anyway—sigh—Leona Harper. Or Leon, as she's currently going by inside the academy.
Her whole setup in the original story was a mess. She disguised herself as a boy to enroll at the academy. Why?
To observe guys.
Yeah, that sounds creepy when I say it like that.
Let me explain.
Her family is this prestigious swordsmanship clan, known across the continent. Problem is, they haven't had a male heir in this generation. Her father even went as far as marrying two more wives, and still—no sons.
So now they're pinning their hopes on their daughter. Not to inherit everything herself, oh no. That'd be too progressive for them.
Instead, they sent her to the academy to scout out a suitable man to marry into the family—someone strong enough to inherit the clan's sword techniques.
Cliché? Absolutely.
So to get up close and personal with her "potential suitors," she disguised herself as a dude.
I don't know who's more delusional—her archaic parents or my friend who wrote this plotline.
"Alright, coming in."
Click!
I opened the door, gathering my mental defenses.
She'd already made herself comfortable on the top bunk.
And yes, this meant I had to shower and sleep in the same room as a girl pretending to be a guy.
The dorm bathhouse wasn't open yet—just like the cafeteria—so the only option for cleaning up was the tiny shower attached to this room.
So yeah. I was, once again, completely and utterly screwed.