"I can’t believe that we’re in the same class, what a coincidence."
Zion said as he approached me.
He walked up beside me with a wide, bright grin on his face, looking up at the class sign and then back at me as if he couldn’t quite wrap his head around the timing.
"Right?"
I pretended not to know this beforehand.
I forced a look of pleasant surprise onto my face, laughing softly as I let go of the door handle and turned to face him directly.
"Well, now I’m glad that I have someone I know in my class."
Zion stated, smiling and patting me on my back.
His hand landed on my shoulder with a friendly, solid thud that practically rattled my collarbone, showing just how naturally strong he really was.
"We’re thinking of the same thing, I’m glad as well."
I responded to him with a smile of my own, and with that—we entered the classroom.
I slid the heavy door open, stepping past the threshold with Zion following right on my heels.
There are a lot of students already inside, they’re all feeling anxious about their first day so nobody even noticed that we arrived; not that they should. The two of us entered, and I started looking around.
The ambient chatter in the room was a low, nervous buzz. Dozens of teenagers were scattered across the rising rows of desks, mostly staring down at their hands, fidgeting with their uniforms, or nervously checking their phones as they waited for the morning to officially begin.
I can see some familiar faces from the game, but not that many though—most characters are from the higher classes after all.
My eyes swept over the seating layout, picking out a few minor named NPCs who were destined to be background extra filler during the upcoming academy arc events. The main heroines and major noble rivals were all tucked away in Class 1-B and above.
I searched for an empty seat, and after finding one; I sat down and relaxed my body.
I headed toward a quiet desk situated near the middle-back row, pulling out the wooden chair and sliding into it with a low, weary breath.
"Hup."
Zion sat beside me casually, he had been following me since we entered the room.
He pulled out the adjacent chair without a second thought, dropping his heavy bag onto the floor beside his desk with a dull thud.
I don’t really mind it to be honest. When I read novels or manwhas about the MCs being reincarnated or transported inside a story or game that they know, they tend to avoid the real protagonists and main characters out of fear of changing the future.
They would constantly go out of their way to play dead, act completely invisible, or run in the opposite direction the moment the main storyline tried to pull them in.
But I don’t really think like that. Just the fact that I’m here instead of the real Vael is already a big change to the story, there’s nothing I can change. I don’t see any reason on why I should avoid Zion.
The butterfly effect was already in full swing the second I woke up as Vael. Trying to artificially force the plot back onto its original rails was a foolish, impossible goal.
He even saved me earlier, so ignoring him just doesn’t feel right.
If it wasn’t for his sudden intervention at the front gates, I would have been forced to blow my cover and fight a high-ranking family enforcer in broad daylight.
’Also, when the MCs in the story that I read try to avoid the original characters, they get caught up in more shit. It doesn’t work.’
It was an undeniable truth of narrative tropes. The more a person tried to run away from the main plot, the harder the world’s natural mechanics would bend over backward to shove them right into the center of a life-or-death crisis.
I’ll just do whatever I want, even party up with Zion for a short while just like in the game story.
It was the most practical way to handle the situation. Standing next to the literal chosen protagonist meant I had a reliable combat partner whenever mandatory academy events broke out.
After all, once he meet and befriends other strong characters; then my role will end and I will be free from the story.
Once the main heroines, powerful allies, and core party members officially gathered around him during the main main-story arcs, I could quietly step back into the background and focus entirely on my own growth and survival away from the game story.
"What was our first subject again?"
Zion asked me as I was thinking to myself.
He leaned back in his chair, resting his hands behind his head as he turned to face my desk with a relaxed expression.
"Umm, we don’t really have a subject today—we’re going to meet our homeroom teacher first."
I told him.
I rested my elbows on the smooth wooden surface of my desk, keeping my tone casual as I laid out the general schedule for the first morning.
There’s actually one more thing we will do, but knowing that might raise some suspicion on me, so I wouldn’t tell that to him.
If I started accurately predicting specific unannounced school orientation events before the faculty even mentioned them, someone as sharp as Zion might start asking very inconvenient questions about how I knew so much.
"Oh, got it."
Zion said, and so—we waited for our homeroom teacher to arrive. We talked about simple things to pass time, asking just random questions to get to know each other.
We traded short, harmless details about our hometowns, basic training routines, and preferred foods, keeping the conversation light while the rest of the room remained stiff and silent around us.
And then, after about half an hour in...
Creak—
The door opened quietly, everyone in the room felt a strong presence including me; we instinctively looked toward the door, and there—we saw a man.
The heavy air in the room seemed to freeze instantly as a suffocating wave of dense, highly refined mana spilled into the classroom before he even took a step inside.
Black hair, tall, well built body; his eyes looks tired, but his face is serious. He’s wearing a black coat and a slacks, looking all professional. I know him, but even though the others didn’t, they immediately realized that he’s our homeroom teacher.
He walked into the room with long, measured strides, carrying an authoritative aura that immediately crushed the lingering whispers of the nervous students.
The whole room went silent.
Not a single chair squeaked, and not a single breath was drawn out loud as every student sat bolt upright in their seats.
The man just walked straight to the table in front of the classroom; he looked toward us, and with a straight face—
He placed a single leather folder onto the lectern, his tired, sharp eyes slowly scanning across every single row of desks until he had personally measured every student in the room.
"My name is Ulfar Crow."
He introduced himself. He really looks just like in the illustration; everyone is really good looking in this dating game.
His deep, gravelly voice echoed off the concrete walls with effortless authority, carrying the distinct weight of a veteran combatant who had survived countless real battles.
"I will be your homeroom teacher; I will also be your professor in combat class."
Then he followed with that.
He crossed his arms over his chest, his posture perfectly erect as he delivered the news without a single hint of warmth or sugarcoating.
"We can start the introduction later, first—all of you stand up."
As soon as he commanded that, we all stood up from our seat like trained soldiers in unison. He just nodded in satisfaction.
The sudden, synchronized scraping of chair legs echoed through the quiet room as all the students snapped to attention without a second of hesitation.
"Follow me, it’s your class’ turn to go the armory."
Then he said that.
He turned cleanly on his heel, his dark coat fanning out behind him as he slid the classroom door wide open and stepped back out into the hallway.
That’s right, the other event today; it was picking our weapon.