“What are you doing?”
Of course, nothing changed.
A speck on the number 3 wouldn’t magically turn it into a 5.
“Um… My bad?”
“What?”
“Never mind. On second thought, it’s something you should be thankful to me for.”
Though it had been a hassle to roll him around and boost his agility before he got his status window, it ultimately made it easier for him to face the trials that followed.
Herace decided to think positively.
“Below this are the skill lists. Right now, you only have one.”
“This one?”
Luke tapped the status window.
“Yes.”
“And below that? Something’s glowing.”
The calloused finger pointed at ‘(NEW!)’, where the rewards and quests glittered side by side, signaling new updates.
“Rewards and quests. Go ahead, try tapping them.”
“Tap them?”
Despite his hesitation, Luke’s curiosity outweighed his resistance to following Herace’ instructions.
As his finger pressed “Rewards (New!)”, an explosion of fireworks erupted before his eyes.
Luke flinched at the sudden burst of colorful confetti.
“What the—? Oh… magic.”
The confetti scattered out of reach, and Luke, with his disdain for magic, quickly stopped trying to grab it.
* * *
You have defeated Chimera (Status Effect: Drowsiness)!
You have reached Level 3!
You have acquired the skill [Sword Aura: Trial Version].
* * *
This was exactly as it happened in the original story.
“What does it say? Read it out loud.”
“It says leveling up grants a reward. The name is [Sword Aura: Trial Version].”
“What?”
Luke’s face contorted with disbelief.
“Sword Aura? I didn’t hear that wrong, did I? You’d better watch your tongue. If you’re spouting nonsense again—”
Luke’s reaction was proof of his passion for sword mastery. Herace waved dismissively.
“It’s just a trial version, okay? See? It’s registered under the skill section. Look at the description. It says (0/2).”
“…”
A trial version, indeed. Luke could use Sword Aura only twice a day.
Still, for someone who couldn’t even sense magic before, being able to wield Sword Aura was already a miracle.
Even Luke seemed overwhelmed, staring blankly at the status window.
“I can use Sword Aura?”
“Yes, but only twice a day.”
“I can use Sword Aura!”
Before Herace could reiterate, Luke let out a triumphant roar.
“YEAHHH! HA! HELL YEAH!”
“Hey, could you not shout? My ears hurt.”
“Thank you! You’re a damn bastard, but you’re a good one!”
Herace froze—not because of the compliment.
It was worse.
Luke had thrown his arms around him.
In the original story, the protagonist had been so excited he collapsed part of the cave wall.
Was he directing his energy differently now because someone was beside him?
‘I can’t breathe…’
The protagonist’s strength, amplified by his official “superhuman” setting, was overwhelming.
Still, Herace stayed still for a moment.
Just for a moment.
“Ah!”
A moment later, Luke released him, realizing what he’d done.
He stumbled backward in a panic, slamming into the cave wall.
The look of horror on his face was so extreme that Herace felt oddly conflicted.
‘You’re the one who hugged me. Why act like this now?’
“I must be crazy. No matter how happy I am, hugging a monster—”
The muscle-bound protagonist smacked his own head, a loud thud ringing out.
Herace clicked his tongue.
“Why ruin your already terrible brain?”
“My brain, my rules!”
At least he didn’t deny the accusation.
“More importantly! Why didn’t you push me away?”
“I thought it’d be more amusing to stay still.”
“You cold-hearted bastard…”
Luke shook his head, exasperated.
But Herace wasn’t being truthful. He hadn’t calculated his reaction.
He just… wanted to stay still.
The thought that villains wouldn’t let themselves be hugged by protagonists hadn’t even crossed his mind.
‘Why did I do that?’
Herace was unsettled.
‘Was it pity?’
He couldn’t ignore the protagonist’s struggles—the anguish that had likely shaped him into someone willing to endure for the sake of a more thrilling story.
Perhaps Herace had unknowingly empathized.
It sent a chill down his spine.
‘Is this how other staff grew attached to their assigned protagonists? This feels dangerous.’
Maybe Luke’s intense emotions had influenced him.
‘The most important thing is…’
‘Never fall in love with a character in the story.’
His oath wasn’t just about romantic feelings.
It meant he couldn’t afford to develop any human attachment toward the characters.
Small lapses lead to greater mistakes.
Herace Schule, an elite of the Dimensional Management Bureau, knew that well.
To prevent unnecessary disasters, potential issues must be eradicated at the root.
‘He is just characters in a story.’
Herace reminded himself.
No matter how lifelike they seemed, Luke was still a character bound to the script—a puppet acting out what the author programmed.
Not human.
Herace’ yellow and red eyes darkened.
Luke couldn’t read the expression behind his mask, but he noticed the shift in mood, his blue eyes darting nervously.
“Hey… are you mad?”
“I’m not.”
“Then why are you glaring at me like that?”
“It’s my face. Deal with it.”
Using Luke’s own logic against him left the protagonist speechless.
Herace decided to refocus on his task.
“Enough. Check the rest of the status window. Talking to a lesser human for too long makes me sick.”
“Seriously, this guy…”
“Just look at it.”
Herace grabbed Luke’s hand and placed it on the status window, accidentally triggering the last unchecked item: “Quest (New!)”.
* * *
Body Improvement Plan!
Step 1:
– Obtain the essence of monsters.
Progress: (0/3)
* * *
“Let go!”
Luke, irritable as ever, yanked his hand back and glared.
But his curiosity got the better of him, and his gaze returned to the glowing status window.
He didn’t need coaxing. Herace just needed the story to proceed.
“Body Improvement Plan.”
As expected, the words immediately piqued Luke’s interest.
“Step 1.”
“…Step 1?”
“Did you think it’d be fixed in one go? Dream on. This is a skill, not divine intervention.”
Herace replied flatly.
“I never said that…!”
Luke, offended, was ready to argue but clamped his mouth shut.
He didn’t want to dignify the indifferent tone with a response.
The head of the Clayton family came to mind.
The icy gaze, as if to say, “You’re not even worth dealing with.”
“Retrieve the essence of the monster.”
Meanwhile, Herace, who was narrating the system window, was pleased that Luke wasn’t causing a scene.
It meant they could proceed without wasting unnecessary time.
“Do you see the numbers? Here. It says to collect three of them.”
Although Luke was uncharacteristically quiet, which was slightly odd, Herace didn’t dwell on it.
It wasn’t worth the effort.
It was probably just in line with his character’s design, after all.
“What is the monster’s essence?”
See? The protagonist finally spoke.
“What do you think? It’s the thing you just ate.”
“But you said that was a magic core.”
“Close enough.”
According to the setting, the essence of monsters is a broad category, and magic cores are a subset of it.
When you kill a powerful monster, the lump of its magical energy becomes the monster’s essence.
Among those, if you’re lucky, one of the monster’s skills gets stored in it, forming a magic core.
Skills that come from magic cores often align with those who have absorbed skills through magic cores themselves.
But why should a villain waste time explaining all this lore?
“It’s not exactly the same thing, so what do you mean by ‘close enough’?”
“What, do I have to spoon-feed you like a child? What matters here is that we need to collect the essence of monsters, right?”
Luke’s expression twisted into a grimace.
“A child? You think I’m still that weak?”
Why is it that those who look down on others always use the same playbook?
The bitter voice echoed in his head.
He already knew Herace acknowledged him outwardly but secretly considered him insignificant.
But that didn’t matter.
It was clear that Herace regarded him as “special.”
An indispensable existence.
Someone he could never discard.
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