The Next Day
Waking up in this place still feels like opening your eyes mid-nightmare, half-hoping it was all a bad dream.
It never is.
For a moment, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling like it owed me an apology.
The room was cold. Silent. Unforgiving.
I dragged my body off the bed, joints cracking like cheap plastic.
Then autopilot kicked in—bathroom, water, teeth, soap. The basics.
The mirror greeted me with the same disappointing face as yesterday.
'Still me. Still stuck in this mess.'
I dried myself off and slipped into the Academy's standard-issue uniform.
Yep. The same goddamn white tracksuit.
Whoever designed this had zero drip and possibly a grudge against fashion itself.
I stared at myself in the mirror and muttered,
"Looking just like yesterday... which is somehow worse."
Then my eyes shifted to it.
The shadow.
The one I'd been consciously ignoring like it owed me money. It stared back, silent and vaguely judgmental.
'Which is fair, honestly. I am an imposter.'
I'd been avoiding it for two days. Strategy, not cowardice—if anyone asked about my Aspect, I could just say I hadn't figured it out yet. Plausible deniability. That way, when that clipboard-wielding creep from the administrative office came sniffing around, I wouldn't have to spill details.
Because let's not forget—my Flaw makes it impossible for me to lie, like a cursed Pinocchio with no nose extension—just doom.
'But it's a good thing it didn't come to this.' i thought while remembering what happened yesterday.
But enough of the silent treatment. It was time to face the unknown, So finally, I looked at the shadow. I focused.
Tried to move it.
It was... weird. Like controlling a limb I'd never had. But slowly, it responded—raised its arm, threw a kick, mimicked a boxing stance, even did a little dance. And through all that, i could feel the mood it was radiating.
Like:"This is what I get paired with? Really?"
"Hey buddy, you angry?" I asked softly.
No response. Not even a sarcastic twitch.
Typical.
I sat down and closed my eyes, calming my thoughts. For the first time since waking up in this world, I felt it—
Silence.
I could hear my heartbeat, the ticking wall clock, distant footsteps outside.
And then I saw it.
The world, cloaked in shadow. A new kind of vision.
And standing still in the center of it...me.
'So this is Shadow Sense, huh... Pretty damn cool.'
Creepy surveillance mode. Great for stealth. Or, if we're being honest, great for perverts.
Cough!
'Focus, damn it.'
It was strange. Eerie. But incredibly useful.
With a bit of concentration, I swept the area with this new vision.
I could make out details I'd never noticed. Dust patterns. Scratches on wood. Cracks in the mirror.
After about ten minutes of playing with my glorified goth pet, I stood up and made my way to the gym.
The halls were quieter today. Less hustle. Less chatter.
Maybe everyone else was already adjusting to the nightmare schedule.
Maybe they were just smarter than me.
'Which i honestly doubt.'
The gym was mostly empty. 'Good.'
'Less people, less attention. Just how I like it.'
I climbed onto a treadmill, turned the speed up a notch from yesterday, and started running.
One foot. Then the other.
My lungs burned fast. My legs whined.
But I kept going.
Because running has benefits.
1.Stamina—For running into a bedroom, and to not disappoint someone.
2. Discipline—Because apparently I need to train like an anime protagonist just to survive this hellhole.
3. Distraction—The longer I run, the less I think. And thinking in this place? That's a trap.
4.Horror—If some unkillable horror starts chasing me, I'd like to be able to run faster than the guy next to me.
After twenty solid minutes of cardio hell, I got off the treadmill drenched in sweat, stretched, my whole body was dripping in sweat, stretched until my spine cracked like a glowstick, then i dragged myself to the pull-up bar.
Frist time, tried and failed.
Second time, tried again but actually managed one.
Then another.
Took a while to get the hang of it, but I pushed through—and after what felt like hours, I hit 3 sets of 10.
Painful? Yes.
Effective? Also yes.
Dignified? Not even close.
'It hurt.' My arms were on fire. My shoulders screamed. But I felt something under the surface—progress.
Pull-ups build muscle. They might even help me grow taller.
Because let's face it: Sunny is short.
Not "cute anime boy" short. I mean, almost-the-same-height-as-the-girls short.
Everyone else at the Academy seems to be 170cm and up. Hell, some are practically trees. Meanwhile, I'm just trying not to be mistaken for a lost middle schooler.
I finished with pull-ups.
Next were push-ups.
Each rep felt like a betrayal, Each one a test of willpower.
By the tenth, my arms were shaking like a soda can in a toddler's hand.
And then it hit me.
Not a thought. Not a memory.
Pain.
Hot, overwhelming, muscle-burning pain.
Tears stung at the edges of my eyes, and I hated it.
But I didn't stop.
Because, as one wise anime character once said:
"He who sweats more in training bleeds less in battle."
And battles were coming.
Big ones.
So I endured. I suffered.
My arms screamed. My chest burned. And by the end, I was shaking so badly I couldn't even open my own damn door.
Took actual willpower just to get into the room.
I stumbled in like I'd just survived a war.
Straight into the bathroom. Clothes off. Cold water on.
It was a BAD IDEA.
Holy mother of pain— "F-fuck!"
That water hit like betrayal, but I endured it.
Cold water after a workout helped the soreness. Also, pain reminded me I was still alive. Always useful.
Once the torture ended, I toweled off, then dressed in something clean: plain white shirt, black pants, formal shoes.
Staring in the mirror again, I ran a towel through my hair—still long, black, and wild. Shoulder-length, borderline anime protagonist level.
I grabbed a comb and attempted a wolf cut, sort of.
'This is... vaguely how it's supposed to look, right?'
Good enough.
I gave myself one last look in the mirror and sighed.
No time to waste. I headed off to the cafeteria for breakfast.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
The hallway was too quiet.
And by too quiet, I mean the kind of silence where you feel like you've unknowingly walked onto a live stage — and the audience forgot to tell you your zipper's down and your balls are showing.
'It is strange...'
And by strange, I mean everyone was looking at me.
Students. Staff, A couple of instructors who usually couldn't give less of a damn.
Even the goddamn janitor stopped mid-mop like I'd just risen from a coffin and started singing Broadway.
'What the hell…?'
My first thought wasn't that I had done something wrong.
'Oh no. That would be too logical.'
Then a though hit me.
'Did I accidentally wear lingerie instead of pants?' i thought while glancing down.
'Nope, it's pants.'
Wait why the hell am i even conforming it?!
?!
Then it hit me.
'Wait... is it because of my new haircut?'
I tried to make it into a wolf cut in this morning.
Keyword:Tried.
But judging by the way people were gawking like I'd grown a second head, I must've butchered it.
Still, I held my head high. Because if you're going to fail, fail with confidence.
Anyway.
Cafeteria time.
I marched towards the cafeteria like a man on a mission — a mission to drown my confusion and hormones in calories.
I soon reached the cafeteria and grabbed the biggest tray I could find—no hesitation.
Food? Yes. Dignity? Optional.
Everyone were looking at me as i was walking with the tray.
Correction: I grabbed the tray meant for group serving. Like I was about to feed an entire basketball team.
I walked the buffet line like a starving king after a war.
Steaks? Ten plates.
Pasta? Another ten.
Butter chicken? Five, for cultural balance.
Fruit? Ten more for health. I'm basically a nutritionist at this point.
The servers looked at me like I had walked in naked, holding a goat and asking for unleavened bread.
I didn't care.
Because I was HUNGRY. And not just for food.
"Can you even eat all of that?" one of the cooks asked, his voice trembling like he was speaking to a demon politely.
I smiled — wide and slow — the kind of smile that says "Yes," but also "I might kill you after this."
"Yes. Yes, I can."
After talking with that men for a while, i scanned the room for a corner.
A quiet one. Isolated. Away from the normies and gossipers.
A sacred zone where I could devour meat without being judged like a raccoon caught in a trash can.
'Found it.'
I plopped down and immediately started eating like I'd been "Raised by wolves".
Fork in one hand, steak in the other, pasta dangling from my lips like an erotic horror show.
Across the room, I spotted Cassie — the blind bitch who thinks her disability gives her a personality. She was struggling to lift a spoon to her lips, her hands shaking like a chihuahua on cocaine, and the best part her caretaker was not helping her.
'Heh. Deserved.'
Back to my food.
'Pretty mid, if you ask me.'
But for someone who used to beg for scraps? This was a king's banquet.
And kings don't complain.
Just as I was stuffing an entire buttered chicken leg in my mouth like a degenerate, I noticed the buzz.
People were moving toward the cafeteria's massive screen.
Excitement was written on their faces, almost like seeing their parents having sex.
Sleepers crowding around the massive screen mounted on the wall.
Like someone just dropped a sex tape featuring God.
I blinked.
'Oh. Right. This part.'
The Rankings.
The moment where the Academy reveals who's top dog... and who's about to be someone's chew toy.
I remembered this part from the novel.
Nephis would shine.
Cassie would cry.
And I — The Great Sunless — would be second to last.
The invisible loser. The comic relief. The guy whose most powerful ability is staying alive through sheer spite.
So naturally, I ignored the screen and focused on my meat (You know what i mean~)
But then—
"Wait, what the fuck?!"
"I'm not hallucinating, right?!"
"That guy—!He's NUMBER ONE?!"
I kept chewing. Slower now.
Then—
"Hey, isn't that the red-eyed freak?"
"Yeah, that freaky goth midget."
"Wait... is he stronger than the girl with the True Name?"
I froze mid-bite.
Like a deer. Caught. In a very slutty headlight.
'Red-eyed freak?'
I slowly turned my head toward them and saw a lot of sleepers looking in my direction.
'Why the fuck are they all looking at me.'
Half the damn cafeteria was staring at me like I'd just come out as Satan's chosen son.
Some in awe, some confused, some ready to throw hands.
'...Is it really the haircut?'
And then my gaze flicked toward the screen.
And I saw it.
My face.
Right there.
Top of the board.
My name, glowing like it belonged there.
Just below me, Nephis
In second place, the girl with the glowing eyes and plot armor.
And under her?
Caster—resident prince and prideful bastard.
Third in ranking...
Looking at the patten, i couldn't help but think.
'...Are we doing a threesome now?'
Seeing the result i just blinked. My mouth opened. Food almost fell out.
Almost.
I clenched it shut. Shoved the meat back in. Swallowed.
'No food wastage. Not even in a crisis.'
But that not the point!!
My brain was spiraling.
'WHY. AM. I. ON. TOP?!'
This wasn't part of the plan.
I was supposed to lurk in the shadows like Batman with abandonment issues.
Not stand tall like the goddamn protagonist.
But now?
Now every pair of eyes in that cafeteria looked at me like I'd kicked God in the teeth and asked for a refund, i could see a lot of emotions on their faces, but the most were awe, fear, envy — were laser-focused on me.
Like I'd just pulled a nuke out of my ass and declared war on reality.
'This isn't happening. No. Nope. I gave that bastard interviewer NOTHING.'
I was polite..... Okay maybe i was not but still, i was evasive.
I didn't even lie. Because I can't. My Flaw doesn't let me.
'I was charming! Respectful! I even crossed my legs!'
And YET!
'That bastard cheated on me.'
No, we weren't dating.
Yes, I still feel betrayed.
'Is it because i tried to be mysterious.' and apparently, being mysterious ranked me at the top.
I lowered my head and shoved another spoonful of pasta into my mouth, hoping that somehow, this was all just a hallucination brought on by too much protein.
Then, just when I thought it couldn't get worse...
He appeared.
Tall. Broad. Built like a sin.
A face sculpted by God on a horny Sunday.
Eyes that said "I could ruin you."
Lips that said "I already have."
He was walking toward me with the intensity of a predator..... and the swagger of someone who absolutely top switches when he's bored.
'OHH HELL NO.'
I knew this archetype.
I've read enough yaoi to recognize this bastard.
(Don't ask why i read Yaoi, just don't...)
He is what girls would call a Handsome Sadist.
The guy who will flirt, fight, and fuck in the same breath — and somehow make you say thank you afterward.
He was closing the distance.
Smirking.
That "I saw your ranking and now I wanna eat you" kind of smirk.
'NOT THIS NIGGA—'