"This… isn't the right way."
Lythian frowned as he followed just right behind Seven.
This wasn't the route to the Academy. Not the one described in the novel, at least. The buildings, the layout… everything were too different.
Or at least, Lythian thought.
He wasn't entirely sure. After all, he had skimmed a lot of the novel's filler chapters, brushing past the dull descriptions and minor plot detours.
But even so, this wasn't adding up.
"Fucker, I said wai—"
"Shut your fudg— mouth. I'm thinking."
Seven's sharp reply cut through Lythian's words as he continued scanning the bustling crowd.
His gaze shifted from face to face, as if searching for something. Or someone.
Around them, the murmur of gossip sounded background noise.
Seven barely paid attention, tuning most of it out.
"Shut up!"
A child's voice suddenly cut through the chatter.
All eyes turned toward a small boy, his face scrunched in frustration as he pointed at a fallen ice cream cone on the ground. His older sister stood beside him.
"I'm telling Mom!"
"Wait! I'll buy you another one…"
The kid took off running, and the girl chased after him.
Seven didn't even spare them a glance as they left.
Step.
Lythian groaned.
"The fuck are we even here for."
But Seven didn't even speak a single word. Not even a glance.
Step.
He just kept walking.
That is… until he found what he was looking for
"Ehe."
A quiet chuckle escaped his lips.
Lythian frowned again, following Seven's gaze.
Ahead, a red-haired guy around their age was making a scene, scowling at an old old lady who had accidentally bumped into him.
She had been carrying two buckets full of apples, and now, the fruits lay scattered across the ground.
For a moment, Lythian considered stepping in.
But then he saw the look on Seven's face.
'Oh.'
He knew that expression—where Seven first visited the basement prison.
Seven wanted this one for himself.
'That guy's fucked.'
But then again, Lythian was probably the only one who didn't have a single ounce of hate towards that guy, as he only skimmed the chapters. It was the reason why he lost to Seven back then despite having a gate advantage.
After all, unlike Seven who was a complete otaku, practicing and mimicking almost all thing he had watched and read, Lythian wasn't.
In fact, he did not pay much attention to the side characters, though the person ahead of them was the most hated character even in the forum.
Brody Michigan.
That was his name in the novel.
He appeared just before the entrance exams.
There were no other words to describe him except a 'noble brat' from a family of swordsmen.
Not on the level of the Harts, but good enough to think highly of himself.
The novel had painted him as arrogant, and if Seven recalled correctly, Brody only discovered his magic affinity after his first year at the Academy.
But that wasn't why Seven was interested.
This was the guy who had dueled the original 'Seven' back then; the same guy who had sneered down at him.
The one from the third memory.
Seven's grin widened.
He wasn't here for revenge.
Just like the forum, he just hated Brody's character.
Back on Earth, when he read the novel, he had cursed Brody more times than he could count, swearing that if he ever met him, he'd make sure his arrogance became his downfall.
And now?
Now, he had the perfect opportunity.
"Old hag! Watch where the hell you're going!"
Brody's anger rose as the old lady frantically gathered the fallen apples, muttering apologies.
He raised his fist.
Step.
Seven moved.
Faster than what Lythian thought Seven could.
'Fuck. He improved…'
Grip.
But instead of blocking, Seven caught Brody's wrist mid-swing.
'This is going to be fun.'
Lythian let out a low whistle.
"Who the hell are you?!"
"..."
Seven didn't answer.
Brody tried to free his wrist, but Seven's grip didn't loosen. Instead, his hold tightened, fingers pressing against bone.
"Let go. Don't make me…"
Brody stopped mid-sentence, his eyes locking onto Seven's grayish-blue ones.
He knew those eyes.
The same ones he had been compared to his entire childhood.
The same ones that had haunted him even after he had humiliated him in a duel.
He won.
Made Seven kneel in the dirt.
And yet, his parents hadn't praised him. Instead, they were worried about Seven.
"Look who's here. Didn't die somewhere in a ditch?"
The news of the Hart Dukedom's fall spread fast.
Seven didn't respond.
As usual, he just stared.
Cold.
Silent.
Empty.
Expressionless.
"Let go."
Brody sneered, but for some reason, it felt forced.
Again, he received no response other than a stare.
"What's with those damn eyes?"
Brody clenched his free hand, readying a punch.
A normal punch.
Because Seven was nothing.
A talentless waste of noble blood.
No gate. No strength. Just an insect that somehow bore the name 'Hart'.
But then—
"Ahhh!"
Pain.
Seven's grip crushed tighter around his wrist.
"What the—"
Brody tried to pull away, but the pain only worsened. It was a dull, numbing ache turned sharp, like pressure pressing into his nerves.
"H-Hey, let go."
But there was no response.
Brody's breath hitched. He tried again. Harder. It was useless.
Seven didn't budge.
"Huh—H-Huh?"
The crowd watched in silence.
"Are… you… stronger than me? Y-You—?!"
"..."
Seven tilted his head. With a swift motion, he twisted Brody's wrist, yanked him forward, and flipped him over.
A perfect over-the-shoulder throw.
Thud.
Brody's back slammed into the ground. A dull thud echoed in the street. Dust scattered.
Gasps rang from the crowd but no one helped.
Whistle.
In the distance, munching an apple, Lythian whistled lowly.
"Hah…"
Brody choked on air, wide-eyed, his body trembling from shock.
Seven, on the other hand, merely dusted off his sleeve—an unnecessary motion, considering there wasn't a speck of dirt on him.
'Ehe.'
He adjusted his cuffs, as if Brody lying on the ground wasn't even worth acknowledging
"HaaH…"
Brody's breath came out uneven. His fingers clutched at his wrist, pain still tingling through his nerves.
He looked up to meet Seven's eyes.
"Wha—What the hell do you th-iiink you're doing?"
Seven grinned.
Then, finally, he spoke.
"Oh my…"
His voice was light as if he was amused. But his eyes… they were anything but.
"Should I have given you a hand to help you up?"