Six days.
That's how long it had been since I'd accepted my second life.
Six days of being a part-time café worker. Six days of system pop-ups, over-sweetened compliments, customers asking for my number, and...
Six days of Damian Ravenheart.
I had come to a few conclusions about him:
1. He thinks he's charming.
2. He is not charming.
3. He has the attention span of a goldfish.
4. And for some cursed reason, I had to babysit him like a lightning-powered toddler.
"Felix! Felix, I saw a girl with silver hair at table three—do you think she's single?!"
Case in point.
At some point during the week, a girl confessed to me outside the café. I still wasn't sure if it was a joke or a dare. Damian saw it happen and called it "a natural consequence of beauty." I wanted to crawl into the pastry oven and die.
Still, something good came out of it.
[System Notice: Daily Social Objectives Completed – 5 Days in a Row]
+5 Stat Points Awarded
[You may now allocate bonus stats manually.]
I did just that this morning before we left for the Academy.
---
[Current Stats]
STR: 5
DEX: 8 (+1)
VIT: 6
INT: 6 (+1)
WILL: 10 (+2)
CHA: 20 (+5) ← yes, that's over 50% of my stat total
Unspent Points: 0
Traits: [Instinctual Flow (Lv.1)], [Flash (Lv.1)]
Titles: "Survivor," "Café Darling(?)"
My Charisma, apparently, was dangerously high. No wonder people kept mistaking me for a fantasy idol or someone's lost noble daughter.
---
The train platform was packed.
Mana steam hissed from polished brass pipes. Enchanted runes glowed along the side of a massive locomotive that looked like a mix between a battle cruiser and a royal chariot. It whistled once—elegant, otherworldly—and the crowd began boarding.
"This is it, Felix! Our journey begins!" Damian declared, holding one hand to his chest and the other to the sky.
"Yup. A four-hour ride with you." I sighed. "What fresh torture awaits."
He ignored that. "We even have the same movement spell! It's fate, you know."
I gave a strained smile.
I had copied [Flash] from him after tricking his heart into panic mode. He still thought I was a fellow lightning mage.
To make it worse, he'd started teaching me how to use it better.
"You just feel the world bend—like you're part of a current—and then whoosh, you're gone!"
He wasn't wrong. The skill was wildly useful. I'd used it to dodge a falling tray, escape a flirty customer, and once to catch a muffin.
Still didn't change the fact that my life was a lie.
We boarded the train and found our assigned compartment.
That's when the next disaster happened.
"OH~" Damian sang, instantly lighting up. "We have company."
Two girls were already seated inside.
One had sharp silver hair, eyes like winter steel, and the posture of a noble or assassin—or both. She was reading a thick tome titled Advanced Mana Seals: Combustion Edition.
The other girl looked softer. Pink curls, wide eyes, and a nervous smile. She was clutching a strange rounded staff with little crystals inside. It jingled.
Damian all but kicked the door open. "Ladies, I—Damian Ravenheart—have arrived."
The pink-haired girl blinked. "Oh! Um... hello?"
The silver-haired one didn't even glance up.
I stepped in behind him. Quietly. Politely.
"Oh, is she your sister?" the pink one asked.
My eye twitched.
"No," I said.
Damian blinked. "Sister? What—oh."
He glanced at me. His eyes widened in slow realization. He whispered like he'd seen a ghost.
"…Felix. You're not wearing your apron anymore. You look—look—"
"Like a girl?" I offered flatly.
"Like a shy heroine in a romance subplot!" he hissed dramatically.
I facepalmed.
The pink-haired girl tilted her head. "Wait, you're... a guy?"
I nodded.
She blushed. "Oh my stars! I'm so sorry!"
The silver-haired girl still hadn't looked up.
Damian, however, had moved on.
"You there—fierce one with the murder book—what's your name?"
"…Reading," she replied.
"I shall call you Snowstorm."
She finally looked up and stared at him.
He melted.
I groaned and sat near the window.
---
The train ride was long, bumpy, and loud.
Mana steam powered everything, from the glowing floor panels to the floating teacup service that kept bringing snacks we couldn't afford. Outside, the countryside rolled by in a blur of green and golden fields.
Inside, I was doing damage control.
"No, Damian, don't ask her if she wants to braid your hair—"
"But she has gentle hands!"
"Damian, no, don't recite poetry, this is a closed compartment!"
"It's haiku, it doesn't count as poetry."
The girls gave me sympathetic looks.
"Do you always have to manage him?" the pink-haired girl whispered.
"Unfortunately," I said.
---
As we neared the end of the trip, a loud bell chimed inside the carriage.
[System Notice: Proximity Alert – You are now approaching Lorithal Academy of Mystics and Arcana]
[Event Chain: "Entrance Begins" has started]
Outside the window, a mountain loomed—tall and snow-capped, surrounded by hovering platforms and waterfalls that defied gravity. A massive floating gate marked the entrance to the Academy, shimmering with warding runes.
And standing on the front roof?
A tiny figure.
Small. Childlike. Wearing a hat three times too big for her head.
"Is that... the Headmistress?" I asked.
"Yes," Damian whispered in awe. "She's terrifying. Rumour has it she turned a senior into a carrot last year."
"...A carrot?"
"Magical. Talking. Carrot."
Oh.
Cool. But that has to be a lie. Right?