They moved swiftly toward Block D8, their pace quickening with each step. The university was vast, its buildings arranged in neat alphabetical order, yet D8 still lay a considerable distance away. They would barely make it in time.
Johan's mind reeled from what had happened at the entrance. His body trembled with an underlying fear, an unsettling gnaw gnawing at him.
'In my heart, I actually feel a little grateful to Leor,' he thought, furrowing his brow. 'I need to improve… if I want to survive. Getting back home shouldn't even be on my mind right now. This is the real world, not a dream or a game. I have a feeling that this time, if I die, I'll die for real.'
A chill ran down his spine.
'I need power… There's definitely more to all of this. That text…' His thoughts drifted back to the golden text he had encountered earlier.
Leor glanced at Johan, noting the tension in his expression. His own demeanor shifted, his gaze growing serious.
"Why did you keep the knife?" he asked, voice steady but probing.
Johan hesitated before shrugging. "I wonder why… maybe to feel safe. Don't worry, I don't have any bad intentions toward you."
"I can see that much." Leor's tone softened slightly, though his eyes remained sharp, scrutinizing Johan for something unspoken. "Anyway, let's leave it at that. We've survived twice now… Just don't put me in those situations again."
His gaze lingered on Johan, a strange sense of familiarity stirring in the back of his mind.
'I feel like this isn't the first time I've met him… as if he was here before, around me…' He quickly shook it off. 'No, that's impossible. I just met him today. Maybe he just reminds me of James…'
Johan cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "You're right… We're almost at D8," he muttered, his voice distant as he caught sight of the towering structure ahead.
The university had an eerie, almost cinematic feel—like something straight out of a '90s detective movie. Johan's eyes scanned the grand, meticulously designed architecture.
'Every building is so beautifully structured, like those old historical churches I've seen in pictures online.'
Yet, the people here were cold. No one greeted each other. No one approached. Everyone existed in their own isolated bubbles, locked in small groups.
A heavy sigh escaped him.
'It's exactly like my old world. No one really cares about anyone else without a reason.'
His shoulders slumped.
'I was hoping for something more—maybe a cute anime princess jumping to hug me, clinging to me, obsessed with me, like in those magic academies from web novels.' His head drooped. But… the world is just too cruel…
Leor, catching Johan's dejected expression, hesitated. A flicker of guilt crossed his face.
Maybe I was too hard on him. 'He's in a new place, he doesn't know anyone here… I should at least try to treat him better.'
"Yeah, let's run or we'll be late," Leor said abruptly. It was already ten fifty, and the class was at eleven.
Without another word, he broke into a sprint. Johan followed with ease. They rushed inside the building, reaching Leor's classroom within seconds.
'Thankfully, it's on the first floor,' Johan sighed. 'They don't even have elevators, and the buildings are so big, with long ass stairs. I remember how cruel those stairs were when the elevators were full…'
"Haa… haa…" Leor panted heavily, standing in the wooden doorway, drawing the attention of every student inside.
Beside him, Johan stood perfectly composed. Straight posture. Arms at his sides. Completely unfazed from the running.
"Oh, Leor! Are you alright?" Mr. Robinson's voice rang out from the front of the room, tinged with concern. "And who's the new face with you?"
Johan remained silent, expression neutral. Leor gave a quick explanation about 'johan von adlerhof' before slipping into his seat.
The lecture began.
The room fell into silence as Mr. Robinson spoke, his voice deliberate and steady.
"Today's topic is the psychology of soldiers—and how to use it to your advantage in battle."
He turned to the board, writing the word loyalty in clean, precise strokes.
"A soldier's loyalty is their greatest strength," he continued, pacing the room. "But it's also their leash. Tighten the leash, and they'll follow you anywhere. Break it, and they'll scatter like leaves in the wind. Understand this, and you'll understand how to control not just soldiers, but armies."
His gaze swept across the room, daring anyone to challenge his words.
"It's important for soldiers to develop an emotional attachment to their commander and each other. You may have heard of adrenaline, right?" Mr. Robinson asked, scanning the students. Most nodded.
After briefly explaining for those unfamiliar, he continued, "They can enter a kind of flow that allows them to go beyond their limits. To protect that emotional bond in their minds, they'll do anything. This results in an intense desire to survive. And to survive, they have to win. They push past their limits and become stronger. It can change the entire battlefield.
Survivors of a battle, in particular, feel a deep attachment to their fellow survivors—it's a powerful tool for controlling soldiers."
Johan leaned forward slightly, his usual calm demeanor giving way to quiet intensity.
'This is so fucking interesting. Why don't they teach us things like this? Ahh… maybe they don't wanna nurture Napoleons…'
The lecture ended all too quickly. Students began filing out, their conversations a low hum in the background.
Johan walked alongside Leor, their steps quiet and deliberate. Leor paused near the stone wall by the doorway, scanning the departing students. Searching.
Johan lingered beside him, arms crossed, his thoughts still racing.
'Psychology of soldiers. Loyalty. Control…
It all makes sense now.
This world doesn't just glorify power—it's obsessed with dominance, from the battlefield to the classroom.
And these people… They're all either psychopaths or fanatics.'
His eyes flickered toward the dwindling crowd.
'Everyone here—students, teachers… maybe even the entire world—they all follow a religion. Thornfield Empire thrives on it. Nine religions, each competing for power and followers. So far, I've only scratched the surface…
The Goddess of Stars, the Goddess of Blood, the Goddess of Harvest—just three of the most common ones. But that's just the tip of it. I need more information…'
Leor shifted beside him, still watching the crowd, his brow furrowed.
Johan noticed.
'Leor is careful. Calculated. Maybe even a little paranoid.
But he's not reckless. He didn't hand me over to the church or try to kill me…
He's rational— far more rational than most in this crazy world. Sticking with him is probably the safest option… for now. At least he chose to listen to me first.'
A voice cut through his thoughts.
"Oye! Alya, Vana! Finally found you."
Leor's sharp yet friendly tone snapped Johan back to the present. Instinctively, his gaze followed Leor's toward the approaching figures.