Orien said, placing a firm hand on Marin's shoulder. "You need to learn to control it—your plot armor."
Marin blinked. "Control it?"
"Yeah. Have you watched Naruto?"
Marin nodded. "Yes, what about it?"
"Then this will be easier to explain." Orien straightened up, his tone turning half-instructor, half-wise-uncle. "Remember how Naruto had insane chakra reserves? Like, insane. So much that he actually couldn't use it properly when he was younger?"
"Yeah...?" Marin said, drawing the word out.
"I think it's the same problem with you," Orien said. "You've got too much plot armor. You've got so much of it, you'd probably survive even if the entire world ends up getting destroyed , maybe you'll become the next Super man."
Marin furrowed his brows. "So… what's the problem, exactly?"
"The problem is, you don't have the abilty to control all of it. Not yet. Your body can't handle that much power raw. It's like giving a toddler an army and saying, 'Go play.'"
Marin gave a tiny nod. "So... I need training."
"Exactly. Not just training but lot of training. More than you can imagine. So for now, don't try to use it fully. Just a tiny amount—just enough to make you faster and stronger than an average human. Understand?"
"Yes, sir."
"One more thing," Orien added, now pointing to his own temple and eyes. "Next time you decide to go super-speed, inject some plot armor into your brain and eyes too, alright?"
Marin tilted his head. "Wait, what ?"
"You see human brain's processing speed is limited. They're not built to think like lightning. But we can bypass that limit if we channel plot armor into our brains. This allow us to think and see at super speed. Otherwise, you may end up running into a wall like you just did , look there are only a crater in place of the rock you ran into, that or, worse,you would end up blowing someone into pieces before you even realize what happened."
Marin nodded slowly. "So brain, eyes, legs—got it."
"Not just remember but also apply them okay," Orien said, pleased. "Now, come on. We're already there. Save your plot armor—or don't. You've already got way too much anyway. Try putting some into your eyes and brain this time, while walk into the village and see what happens."
As Marin did what he was told , the world around him began to slow down and he could see everything in slow motion and processes all things at once.
They walked for a while in silence, Marin practicing as they moved. Eventually, they reached the village. Or what used to be one.
It was like a ghost town. Not a single soul in sight. Wind carried sand through empty alleys and creaked the doors of deserted homes.
"This place is dead," Marin whispered.
"Stay close," Orien warned, his tone turning serious. "This could get dangerous."
He pulled a device from his pocket—a satellite phone—and punched in a number. "HQ, this is Orien. What's going on here? We got a distress report hours ago. This village is empty. Not a trace of anyone. What the hell is even happening here?"
A crackled voice responded. "Satellite images are blank for that region— it's too remote. We did receive a distress call routed through the government's emergency line. It said a rogue was near the village. That's why you were dispatched. Beyond that... it's up to you to figure it out."
The call ended.
Orien swore under his breath. "Damn it. Alright, kid— do you know any detective skills shit ?"
Marin shrugged. "I don't know much."
"So you know some. Good enough. Let's look for clues. Stay sharp."
Marin looked around the hollow streets. "If the villagers aren't here, they were probably taken somewhere. This place is way too clean for a massacre. No signs of struggle, no blood. Just... emptiness."
Orien nodded, impressed.
Marin continued, "If someone kidnapped them, they wouldn't take them far. Transporting an entire village takes time. We should search nearby. Behind those mountains—there could be caves."
"Good thinking," Orien said. "Let's check it out."
They made their way toward the closest mountain. The sun was already dipping low, casting long shadows over the landscape. Darkness was falling fast.
They found a cave near the base. It was empty, though there were signs of a fire that had gone out several days ago. The ashes were cold.
"Well, it's something," Orien said. "We'll stay here tonight. Can't search in the dark."
As night settled in, desert winds picked up—cold and sharp, a stark contrast to the day's heat. Marin shivered and looked for a comfortable spot, but the stone floor was unforgiving.
"Take some rest," Marin said to Orien. "I'll keep watch."
"Don't be so paranoid, kid," Orien replied, already lying down. "We've got plot armor. If someone sneaks up on us, we'll wake up before they even get close. Sleep."
Marin tried, but sleep didn't come easily. He shifted restlessly, staring at the cave ceiling while Orien snored like he was back home in his own bed.
"He can sleep anywhere," Marin muttered.
He had just started to drift when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Something—someone—just outside the cave.
He turned to wake Orien, but before he could say a word, Orien already stood up , ready to move.
"Get up, kid," he said, voice low and focused. "We're moving."
"What? What's going on?" Marin asked, blinking rapidly.
"I think we're close. Time to find out where the villagers went. Come on—get moving."
Marin nodded, his exhaustion replaced by a rush of adrenaline.
They stepped into the desert night, ready to solve the mystery of the missing villagers.