Chapter 14: The Interest of a Girl
The echo of footsteps on marble floors filled the air as Quinn made his way through the grand corridor toward the welcome party. The atmosphere buzzed with excitement; freshmen and transfer students alike were gathering to celebrate the start of a new academic year. The bright lights and lavish decorations contrasted sharply with the ever-present shadow of the system, but for tonight, it seemed that everyone was putting aside their worries to partake in the celebration.
Quinn had no real desire to attend. He wasn't one for parties or the shallow interactions that came with them. He had more pressing matters on his mind—like the noble families and the web of influence that governed the academy. But an invitation had arrived earlier that day, personally addressed to him, and though he could have easily ignored it, the prospect of meeting someone influential or gaining a useful connection wasn't one he could dismiss.
The music reverberated through the halls, but as Quinn entered the main hall, the sea of students swarming the area barely registered in his mind. His focus shifted quickly to scanning the room, looking for any potential allies, anyone who might be worth his time.
Then, a commotion caught his eye.
At the edge of the room, near one of the quieter corners, a small group of students stood gathered. A girl, no older than him, was the center of their attention. The scene was all too familiar—a few arrogant students were pushing her around, their laughter dripping with malice. They were taunting her, making cruel jokes that made her face flush with embarrassment. Quinn's blood boiled.
He knew exactly what it felt like to be the target, to stand powerless and helpless as others made you the object of their ridicule. The bitter memories of his own experiences as an NPC flooded his mind—the loneliness, the feeling of being invisible, of having no one to stand up for you. He couldn't just walk away.
Without a second thought, Quinn moved through the crowd, his strides purposeful and firm. He reached the group, his eyes narrowing on the boy who was currently standing too close to the girl, sneering down at her. He wasn't a giant, but he was certainly built, his posture intimidating. Quinn could see the satisfaction in his eyes as he pressed forward, pushing the girl back against the wall.
"Hey," Quinn said, his voice calm but cutting through the noise of the party. The group of bullies froze, their eyes shifting toward him. The boy turned slowly, recognizing Quinn immediately.
"What do you want, O'Reilly?" the boy sneered, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. Quinn had the reputation of being quiet, withdrawn—no one ever expected him to be someone who would step into a confrontation.
"How about you buzz off?" Quinn's voice was low but firm, carrying the weight of a warning. The bullies exchanged a glance, sizing him up, but they didn't back off.
"You got a problem with that punk?" The boy in front of Quinn puffed out his chest, trying to intimidate him. But Quinn stood his ground, unwavering. The atmosphere shifted. What had been playful teasing now felt far more dangerous for them.
The girl seemed to shrink further into the wall, eyes wide, clearly relieved but uncertain about what would happen next.
Quinn took a slow step forward, locking eyes with the bully. "Yeah, I do. You don't get to treat people like shit," he said, his tone cold and unyielding. He could feel the presence of others around him, watching, but he wasn't concerned about them. His focus was on the bully.
The boy looked Quinn up and down, as if trying to assess whether Quinn posed a real threat. After a long, tense moment, the bully scoffed, muttered something under his breath, and turned to leave. His friends, unsure, followed him hesitantly.
Quinn didn't move, watching them disappear into the crowd before turning his attention back to the girl. She was still pressed against the wall, her body tense, though her eyes had softened.
"You alright?" Quinn asked quietly, stepping closer.
The girl didn't immediately respond, her hands nervously twisting at the hem of her sleeve. It was clear that her pride had taken a blow, but there was also something else in her eyes. A mix of gratitude and surprise.
"Thank you," she said finally, her voice small but sincere. Her gaze lingered on Quinn, as if she was unsure whether to thank him or run away. "I didn't think anyone would... I mean, you didn't have to."
Quinn gave a small shrug, his gaze flicking away for a moment. "No one should have to deal with that. People can be... cruel," he said, his words tinged with a quiet bitterness that echoed his own experiences.
"I'm Lena Cauliflower," she said, finally offering her name. "I'm new here. I don't know anyone."
"Finn O'Reilly," Quinn replied, the alias slipping from his lips without hesitation. "Nice to meet you, Lena."
She smiled faintly at him, but it was warm, genuine. There was a brief silence, and Quinn found himself awkwardly standing there, unsure of what to say next.
"Thank you, Finn," Lena said again, her voice quieter this time, though there was a trace of something else in her tone. It wasn't just gratitude anymore. There was a flicker of something else—something more. Maybe admiration, or maybe curiosity. Quinn wasn't sure, but he wasn't about to dwell on it.
"Well, it's not like I was going to just let them keep at it," Quinn said, trying to deflect the tension. "You okay?"
Lena nodded, though her eyes still held that mix of emotions. "I think so. Just... shaken, I guess."
Quinn gave her a half-smile, not used to offering much in terms of comfort but doing his best. "I get it. People suck sometimes. But hey, don't let them get to you." He hesitated. "If you ever need someone to talk to or anything, I'm around."
The offer sounded awkward even to him, but it was the best he could do.
Lena looked at him, her smile softening. "I'll remember that. Thanks again, Finn."
Quinn gave a small nod, then turned to leave, but not before he noticed that Lena's gaze followed him as he walked away. The look in her eyes lingered—something more than just gratitude. He tried to push it from his mind, focusing on the larger mission ahead, but a small part of him wondered if that moment had created a ripple in the path he was trying to carve out.
For a fleeting moment, Quinn wondered if it had all been worth it. But that moment passed quickly, swallowed up by the still-looming weight of everything else.
The system. The nobility. The royals. There was no time for distractions. But as he disappeared into the crowd, he couldn't help but feel a small spark of something—something that made him wonder if, perhaps, there was more to this world than just survival.