The Absolute Speed of a Certain Comic'

"Huh? Why doesn't it hurt?"

The henchman holding the crossbow instinctively shut his eyes, bracing for pain. But moments passed, and he cautiously reopened them, confusion etched on his face. His body was unscathed.

"Bang!"

"Bang!"

"Bang!"

More gunshots rang out.

This time, the crossbow henchman didn't even have time to close his eyes before the sound made him flinch again.

But as he stood there, something dawned on him— there was no need to flinch at all.

Ryoji's bullets hadn't hit him. Not a single one. All of them veered off target, harmlessly missing his body. His shooting accuracy was... deeply unimpressive.

Meanwhile, the other henchman, who had been clutching his chest, groaned and began to push himself up off the ground, his expression dazed.

Something about this situation felt strange.

He was sure he'd been shot at point-blank range in the chest. The shock had instinctively knocked him down with a cry of pain. Yet now, there was no actual pain— his chest didn't hurt at all.

Under the Illusionary Form of a Spiritual Item (Device), physical damage to the body was supposed to be zero. But the associated pain was still meant to be real.

And the gunshot sound from earlier... didn't sound quite right either. It was more like the sound of a misfire.

Ryoji casually lifted his foot and placed it firmly on the chest of the fallen henchman.

The henchman glared angrily but quickly reassessed the situation and decided to obediently stay still, lying flat on the ground without any further resistance.

"Consider yourselves lucky. I'm a merciful person. So much so that even my gun became merciful, which is why none of you got hit!"

'That's my gun', the henchman on the ground thought silently to himself.

'Also, your so-called "mercy" is clearly just terrible accuracy. Stop trying to brag about it.'

Of course, he didn't dare voice his thoughts aloud, lest he get another kick for his trouble.

"Do you still want to fight?"

Ryoji's sharp gaze shifted between the henchman under his foot, the towering student, and finally, the crossbow wielder.

"Clatter!"

Without hesitation, the crossbow henchman dropped his weapon to the ground and raised both hands high above his head in surrender— a gesture so exaggerated it looked like he was saluting France.

The sight was almost comical.

Faced with Ryoji, who had already taken down two of them in an instant, the crossbow wielder knew there was no way he could win on his own. Surrendering was clearly the most practical choice to avoid further pain.

"Good."

Ryoji nodded approvingly, withdrawing his Vrring Blade back into his body.

Spiritual Items (Devices) were essentially highly condensed Magic Power crystals— which made them extremely durable. Even a direct hit from a tank shell wouldn't scratch them. These devices could manifest and disappear at the Blazer's will, making them extraordinarily convenient.

"I've recorded everything you just said," Ryoji announced, pulling out the student handbook from his pocket and displaying its recording interface. "Including how you falsely accused me of being a scumbag and attacked me first. If I report this to the Director, you'll all be looking at at least a suspension. You do understand that, don't you?"

In reality, Ryoji hadn't recorded the part about being called a scumbag— he'd arrived too late to catch that bit. But the trio didn't know that. Convinced he had the entire exchange on tape, their faces paled with panic.

Student Knights were strictly prohibited from summoning their Spiritual Items (Devices) casually.

Without explicit teacher permission or being in designated areas like training grounds, summoning a Spiritual Item was grounds for punishment.

Depending on the severity, the lightest penalty was suspension. In more serious cases, expulsion was possible.

Not only that, unauthorized summoning incidents were logged in a student's permanent record and reported to the International Magic Knights League, leaving a stain on their reputation for life.

"If you understand the gravity of this, don't bother me again. Otherwise, I'll send this recording straight to the Director. I don't think I need to spell out what will happen to you if that occurs."

Seeing the trio's visibly shaken expressions, Ryoji nodded in satisfaction.

"By the way, do you guys have any money on you?"

"Uh… y-yeah, we do…"

"Good."

Ryoji's lips curved into a wide grin, his face lighting up with a mischievous smile.

"Heh heh heh! Self-defense! Now hand over all your cash!"

The trio: "..."

"Wait, are you the bad guy, or are we the bad guys?"

The trio didn't dare resist. With trembling hands, they gathered all the money they had on them and handed it over to Ryoji.

"By the way, what was the name of that novel you were reading earlier?"

As Ryoji pocketed the still-warm 20,000 yen, he suddenly remembered something and, with a serious expression, asked the towering student.

"Breaking Through the Heavens."

"..."

"Uh… is there a problem?"

"No, of course not!"

Ryoji shook his head solemnly, his face full of admiration.

"Just from the title, I can tell it's an incredible novel. I can only imagine what kind of talented author could write such a masterpiece. They must be someone with impeccable taste! In this chaotic era, it's rare to come across such a work that instantly brings peace to the heart. You should treasure it!"

'But that novel was discontinued…'

'And didn't you just call it some third-rate flop by a nobody? Why are you flip-flopping so fast?'

The towering student didn't even get a chance to voice his thoughts before Ryoji turned and walked away.

…

…

"What the hell!"

Ryoji muttered in amazement, letting slip a curse.

He genuinely hadn't expected that a low-effort fantasy novel he'd once translated for cash— one that had been abruptly discontinued— would still be remembered today, let alone have readers this invested in it.

Thinking back, it was true that the novel had its fair share of iconic scenes, like "You came," "You shouldn't have come," and "But I still came." Not to mention the countless tropes like "the river reverses its flow after 30 years— don't bully the poor youth!"

No wonder some of the dialogue earlier had felt oddly familiar.

Ryoji was a little moved.

'Maybe next time, I'll rob him a bit less… No, I mean… exercise a bit less "self-defense."'

Holding the 20,000 yen he'd just acquired, Ryoji's face lit up with joy.

To be fair, he'd been broke for a week straight. Though he'd taken plenty of modeling photos with Kusakabe Kagami to sell, it would take time for those photos to generate income. This emergency cash couldn't have come at a better time.

"But the Representative Selection Battle is coming up soon, isn't it?"

Ryoji walked out of the forest path and back into the area around the school building. His cheerful expression quickly darkened.

The selection battle required prior preparation and would officially begin in the second week of school—three days from now. The matchups were determined entirely at random, with the list of opponents revealed by the Executive Committee just before the battles began.

Today was Friday, so barring any surprises, the first-round matchups would be announced by Sunday at the latest.

Ryoji was very worried.

The reason? His atrocious "luck."

Why did his gun jam earlier? Why did he step on that branch? Obviously, it was all thanks to his miserable 1-point Luck stat.

Given the random nature of the matchups, it was almost guaranteed that his bad luck would rear its ugly head.

First-round opponent? Kurogane Ikki? Or perhaps Stella Vermillion? Worse yet, what if he had to face Senior Sister right out of the gate?

"No way! I need to figure something out!"

Ryoji shuddered and silently resolved himself.

Whether it was a duel with Ikki or Stella, Ryoji wasn't afraid. At worst, he could activate Lightning Flint and make sure they begged him to spare their lives.

But facing Senior Sister? That was the one scenario he absolutely wanted to avoid.

(End of Chapter)

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