The entire class watched as the brawny boy strode out, their gazes shifting between Kasem and the notorious troublemaker. He paused at the doorway, sparing Vincent a glance before marching off.
Ol'boy didn't care if anyone stared. It was Daniel he couldn't beat—but every other member of the Mereung alliance? He could stand his ground. A smug sneer curled his lips as the bully trudged away. Then, shifting his focus, he looked at Kasem, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes.
Everyone was gathered around the slender boy, their voices a chorus of admiration.
"What the hell, bro? You actually punched him?!"
"Yo! Nice one, he totally couldn't do anything against you!"
"Well done, Kasem. Man, I don't know if I'd have been able to pull that off."
The words overlapped, a flood of praise drowning out Kasem's attempts to respond.
Vincent lingered for a moment, watching, before lowering his gaze as a familiar notification flashed before his eyes.
[Congratulations]
[Trial One has been successfully completed]
[You have gained +1 Common Card]
[Stay tuned for Trial Two]
As much as he itched to check out the card he had just received, Vincent dismissed the tab. His eyes flicked back to Kasem's beaming face before he turned and walked away.
Kasem caught a glimpse of him leaving. He had wanted to approach Vincent, to thank him—but the crowd had swallowed him before he could move. He wasn't good with people, not with this much attention. His throat felt tight, and he couldn't even excuse himself properly. And so, he missed the chance.
But he vowed in his heart.
I owe you for this one. I know you came to look out for me.
His gaze lingered on the door Vincent had just walked through.
—
The rest of the day passed peacefully. Vincent, however, remained expectant, anticipating when the next trial would pop up. But nothing happened.
Not by the time school ended. Not on his walk home.
By the time he stepped into his room, a hint of disappointment settled in his chest. Still, maybe it was for the better.
The scent of vanilla greeted him as he dropped his bag. Without much thought, he collapsed onto his bed, letting himself sink into its embrace for a few minutes before finally sitting up and pulling off his uniform.
Ring.
His phone buzzed just as he did.
Vincent picked it up from the table where he had left it that morning, but before he could answer, the call ended. A message popped up instead.
Frowning slightly, he tapped the notification.
—Hello, Sensei Daniel here. Lessons will be starting tomorrow. Meet me at Mereung Central Park.
Vincent's frown deepened into a scowl.
How did he even get my number?
Scoffing, he tossed his phone onto the bed.
His stomach growled.
Sighing, he made his way to the kitchen, grabbing two packs of ramen. He was running low on money again—had to be economical about every meal. No choice but to keep things simple.
The evening passed without much else. After eating, Vincent found himself on Wentube, an app where people uploaded videos on anything and everything. He wasn't usually one to binge videos, but after his fight with Daniel, his weaknesses had become painfully clear.
He could think of a skill and use it, sure. But that didn't mean his opponent would just stand there while he 'thought.'
He doubted he'd meet anyone as fast as Daniel again—Daniel was on a completely different level when it came to speed—but that didn't mean others wouldn't be even more dangerous.
Not like he was planning on running around, picking fights with hooligans.
But as long as Blu was involved in all this, Vincent knew one thing for certain: the quests weren't stopping anytime soon.
And if that was the case, then he needed to prepare.
The system was powerful, sure. But that didn't mean he had to rely solely on it. He wanted to grow stronger on his own terms.
That was why he started watching a retired boxer's Wentube channel, analyzing the way professional fights played out, trying to spot what he had done wrong.
Over and over, he replayed the same video.
After the tenth time, he exhaled, rolling onto his back, eyes to the ceiling.
"Man… I don't know if I'm just slow, or if this stuff is just hard to get."
He shut his eyes, hoping to lull himself to sleep.
It didn't work.
Restless, Vincent sighed and sat up.
Pulling on a pair of track pants and a hoodie, he grabbed his phone and earphones before heading outside.
People would probably think—who jogs in the evening? But I don't care. I have my earphones on.
Music on. Hood up. He stepped into the night.
The city was coming alive—lights flickering on, illuminating high-rises. Men in suits strode by, briefcases in hand, their expensive cars lining the streets.
Despite the movement, the area carried a hushed stillness. Everyone walked with purpose, minding their own business.
Vincent's jog was peaceful.
Until something caught his eye.
A familiar restaurant.
He made a sharp stop, squinting at the entrance.
This is where she works, right?
A thought nagged at him. He had to confirm something before continuing his run. Without hesitation, he stepped inside.
This time, the owner was there.
A middle-aged man with perpetually lazy eyes.
The moment Vincent entered, a grating voice greeted him.
"Welcome, customer. What can I get you—"
The man stopped. Looked at Vincent. Stared longer than necessary.
A couple of other customers sat at their tables, quietly eating, ignoring the exchange.
Vincent instinctively bowed his head, pulling his hoodie down further.
"Hey. You a delinquent?"
"Sir? N-No, I just wanted to check something."
The man raised a brow, folding his arms.
"Really. What?"
Vincent hesitated, glancing around before answering.
"…Ah, hem. I'm looking for a girl here—"
"Oh. Anna. You came for Anna, huh?"
The man's eyes narrowed.
"Well, that's no news. Every guy that lays eyes on her can't seem to look away."
Then, suddenly, his gaze sharpened—eagle-eyed, scrutinizing Vincent so intensely it nearly knocked him off balance—Definitely not in a romantic way.
"Stay away from my niece."
Vincent blinked. Stared at the man.
The slicked-back blond hair, the thick brows, the square jaw.
"…Your niece?"
They have nothing in common.
The man scowled.
"You just thought that in your head, didn't you?"
Vincent quickly shook his head.
"I swear, I didn't." He even raised his hands in surrender.
The man stared for a long, silent moment. Then—breathed out.
Like nothing had happened.
Then smirked.
"You'd need to be really skillful to win her over. Even Daniel couldn't—after trying for five years."
Vincent's brows shot up.
"…Daniel?"
How the hell did Daniel enter this conversation again?!