There Are Times When a Mob Character Must Act

CID

I waited until I was absolutely sure the classroom was empty before slamming my fist against my chest.

Move, damn it! Move!

I struck myself again and again, forcing my lungs to take in air.

MOVE, YOU STUPID THING! MOOOOOOOOOOOOVE!!

And then, finally...

“Cough! Hack, hack!”

Success.

My heart, which had been completely stationary, gave a heavy thump-thump and resumed its rhythm.

Mob Secret Technique: Ten-Minute Near-Death Experience—"Heart Break Mob."

By using microscopic amounts of Magic Power to maintain blood flow to the brain, I could sustain a state of cardiac arrest for an unnaturally long time without any permanent brain damage. Normally, this is a physical impossibility. It’s a high-risk gamble where one wrong move sends you straight to the afterlife, but there are times when a man has to put his life on the line.

Today was one of those times. It was as simple as that.

“Ow, that actually hurts...”

I reached back to check the wound. Since there was a risk of someone inspecting me up close, I’d opted to actually get slashed this time.

I’d avoided anything fatal, obviously, but I’d adjusted the depth to ensure it looked appropriately gruesome for the sake of realism.

I tried applying some magical first aid. By processing my Magic Power into ultra-thin strands, I found I could ignore the interference field and use it anyway. Honestly, I could probably just blast through the jamming by force if I applied enough pressure, but that felt unnecessary.

“I guess that’ll do.”

Closing the wound completely would take too much time, and it would look suspicious if someone found me later. I stopped the bleeding just enough to ensure it wouldn't hinder my movement. I’d just play it off as the classic “miraculously survived by a hair’s breadth” trope. It’d be fine.

“Heave-ho.”

I stood up, checking the flow of my Magic Power and the responsiveness of my limbs. I wiped the bloodstains off my face and straightened my messy uniform.

A refreshing afternoon breeze drifted in through the window, billowing the white curtains. The shifting fabric caused the harsh sunlight and the dark shadows on the floor to dance and change shape.

Overturned chairs, scattered desks, a shattered door, and the lingering bloodstains on the floor—it was a scene that announced the end of the "everyday."

I closed my eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and smirked.

“Well then, shall we?”

I stepped out of the classroom and began to stroll down the silent, empty hallway.

◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

SHERRY

Sherry Barnett was so engrossed in deciphering the pendant-type Artifact that she was slow to notice the chaos.

“This is...”

She held the Artifact up, squinting at it from mere inches away. Her pink eyes narrowed as she realized something.

“No... it couldn't be.”

While her gaze remained locked on the Artifact, her pen danced across the paper. She was completely oblivious to the commotion around her. The sound of explosions and the heavy footsteps in the hallway were all tuned out.

“What’s the status?”

“Someone is launching an assault on the academy.”

“If we can't use Magic Power, we can't afford to make a reckless move.”

Even the conversation between the two knights guarding her failed to reach her ears.

“No way... no way...”

She was hyper-focused. Sherry had always been the type to lose sight of her surroundings when she dove into her research, but this was on another level. There was something significant about this Artifact—something that had completely stolen her consciousness.

Scritch-scratch. Her quill flew across the page.

Her pink eyes were now just a single step away from the Artifact’s truth.

At that moment, the window blew inward. A man dressed in black leaped into the research lab, glass shards flying everywhere. One small fragment grazed Sherry’s cheek.

“Ow...?”

“Who goes there?!”

The two knights drew their swords.

The sharp sting on her cheek finally snapped Sherry back to reality.

“Eh? What? What’s happening?”

Panicking, she clutched the Artifact to her chest and dove under the desk. When she touched her cheek, her fingers came away with a smear of blood.

“We are Shadow Garden... or was it Shadow Guardian? Ah, whatever. I am Rex—the ‘Rex’ of the Game of Rebellion.”

The man in black sneered from behind his mask.

“This thing is a nuisance.”

He ripped off the mask and tossed it aside. A frivolous-looking man with dull red hair and eyes like a starving stray dog laughed at them.

“Eek!”

The mask rolled to a stop right in front of Sherry. She scrambled backward, still hiding under the furniture.

“Shadow Garden... the rumors were true...”

“I don’t know what you’re after, but did you really think you’d get away with attacking the academy for free?”

Rex let out a bark of laughter at the knights' bravado.

“Oh, it definitely won’t be free. Those Shadow Garden guys are in for a rough time. By the way...”

Rex paused for a moment, his grin widening.

“I actually forgot why we’re attacking in the first place.”

He let out a dry, rattling laugh. Ka-ka-ka!

“Are you mocking us?”

“Nah, I’m serious. It just doesn't matter to me. My only real job is to recover a pendant-type Artifact. Once I have that, I was told I could go on a rampage and do whatever the hell I want, but...”

Rex’s eyes narrowed into slits.

“You guys wouldn't happen to know where it is, would you?”

He glared at the two knights.

“...We have no idea what you're talking about.”

“We know nothing.”

Rex’s face lit up with a massive, terrifying smile.

“That’s the exact face people make when they’re lying through their teeth!”

The air began to vibrate. Rex’s massive Magic Power exerted a crushing pressure on the room.

“...!”

Sherry clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a scream and began to crawl along the floor. Just a little further. If she could just reach the door...

“Now then, who should I start with?”

Rex scanned the room with those predatory, stray-dog eyes.

“I think I’ll start with the little lady over there.”

Then, he vanished.

Before she could even blink, Rex was standing directly in front of her.

“KYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

“Later, kid.”

“No!”

Sherry squeezed her eyes shut, curled into a ball, and waited for the end.

But the blow never came.

“I think not.”

Rex’s blade slammed into the floor instead.

Sherry timidly opened her eyes. A large-framed knight with a beard like a lion’s mane stood between her and the intruder, his sword ready.

“Heh. Not bad for someone who can't use Magic Power.”

“Magic Power isn't everything,” the knight replied. “When there is a gap in skill, parrying is a simple task.”

“A gap in skill...? You actually think you’re stronger than me?” Rex’s face twisted into a mask of pure malice.

“I know I am.”

“Fine. I’ll at least take your name.”

“Glen of the ‘Lion’s Beard,’ Vice-Captain of the Crimson Order.”

Another knight stepped up beside him.

“Marco, also of the Crimson Order.”

“I didn't ask you,” Rex spat.

Marco glanced down at Sherry.

“Run!”

The battle erupted.

Sherry scrambled across the floor, burst into the hallway, and ran with every ounce of strength she had. As she fled, a horrific, gurgling death-scream echoed from the room behind her.

She clamped her hands over her ears and didn't look back.