"Hey, look," Jason said, leaning back in his chair, voice dripping with smugness. "Not all of us came here to save the world."
The room fell quiet.
Jason smirked like he'd just said something profound. He stretched, arms behind his head, clearly enjoying the attention.
He was SS-Class. Almost at the top.
Almost.
And that was the problem.
Back on Earth, he was untouchable — popular, feared, worshipped by his circle of followers. Though lowest in studies but ace athletic, popular, a bully with a fan club. He never cared for discipline or following rules. He never worked for anything. He didn't need to. He coasted on charm, looks, and intimidation.
Now?
He was second place.
Daniel was the top dog now. The Hero. And everyone was hanging onto his every word. That fact gnawed at Jason constantly. Watching people flock around Daniel like he was some kind of saint made him feel irrelevant — and he hated that.
Though he was below Daniel back in school too but people did not worship him like this in school. Here he was making all the decisions. Its not like he gained some trash class. He has SS class for God's sake but why is he the only one making decision. Why did no one asked his opinion.
It made Jason sick.
So now, he lashed out. Loud. Rebellious. Grasping at relevance.
But the reaction wasn't what he expected.
"Speak for yourself," someone muttered.
"Can you shut up for once?"
"Yeah, you're not helping."
"Why even say anything now?"
The shift was brutal.
People who once stayed quiet around him were speaking out. The aura of fear he'd carried in school had vanished. He was just another guy now — and no one seemed impressed.
Jason's smile wavered, but he masked it with forced bravado.
"Whatever. I'm not doing it. Eight hours of training? Nah. I'm out," he declared, arms folded. "You can't force me."
That got their attention.
Not just the students—but the staff, the maids nearby, and even the knights stationed by the doors. For a moment, the entire room seemed to hold its breath.
All eyes turned to Daniel.
He stood calmly by the centre table, arms relaxed at his sides, expression unreadable.
This was his moment to command.
And he didn't disappoint.
"Then don't train," Daniel said evenly.
Jason blinked. "What?"
"No one's going to drag you out of bed. If you're not interested, you're free to sit out. Same goes for anyone else." Daniel glanced across the room. "No one here is a prisoner."
Whispers rippled across the group. Some looked relieved. Others confused.
But Daniel wasn't done.
"That said... walking away means giving up everything that comes with training," he added. "Strength. Resources. Support. Privileges."
Jason scoffed. "What privileges?"
Daniel met his eyes directly.
"This estate. The food. The staff at your service. The comfortable rooms. All of it. Reserved for those willing to contribute. You choose to sit out, you also choose to leave."
The weight of his words hit hard.
Now the silence was thick.
The message was clear. They were guests — but only as long as they were useful.
"You want to spend your days wandering, playing tourist, wasting time? Go ahead. The gates are open. But once you step out, you're on your own," Daniel said simply. "We're not here for a vacation."
Jason looked like he wanted to say something smart, but couldn't find the words. His face tensed.
Then, a quiet "Tch…" escaped him as he looked away.
Daniel moved on without missing a beat.
"Training begins at 7 AM. If that's too early, you don't belong here. Be late, and you're out. No do-overs."
The room shifted again. The joking tone from earlier was gone. Everyone was starting to understand what was really happening.
"This isn't school anymore," Daniel continued. "You're being trained by the best knights and mages in the kingdom. Treated like nobility. Fed, clothed, protected. But none of that is free."
He paused.
"You want to be treated like heroes? Earn it."
That shut everyone up.
Daniel let the moment settle before continuing.
"Training runs from 7 AM to 4 PM. Two thirty-minute breaks. That's six hours of actual work. After that, you're free. Do whatever you want. Eat, rest, mess around... just don't leave the Estate."
"Why not?" someone asked.
"Because the outside world is chaos compared to what you've seen," Daniel replied. "Inside, you're respected. Outside? You're strangers."
Inside, the students were VIPs. Outside, they were foreigners. Unknowns.
"In here, you're safe. You're cared for. The best knights and mages will train you, and you'll have everything you need," Daniel said. "But that only lasts as long as you hold up your end."
Most students nodded in agreement, reassured.
But not Oliver.
He wasn't buying the act.
'This is a cage,' he thought, narrowing his eyes. 'A gilded one, sure, but a cage all the same.'
He'd seen this kind of setup too many times. Whether in anime, novels, or even politics back on Earth — it was all the same pattern. Lavish you with luxury, distract you with comfort, while quietly stripping away your freedom.
They weren't guests.
They were investments. Resources.
'We're being watched. Controlled. Probably even bugged.' His eyes scanned the walls and ceilings. No proof, but his gut told him everything he needed.
And as for his own place in all of this?
He sighed.
'I'm F-Class. A "Linguist." What am I gonna do? Negotiate with demons? Try diplomacy while everyone else throws fireballs?'
A bitter laugh almost escaped him. But he swallowed it down.
He wasn't like the others. He didn't get a do-over or second chance.
'No strength. No magic. No prestige. No margin for error.'
Unlike the others, he had no safety net.
No praise.
No power.
And no one watching his back.
'They can afford to screw up. I can't.'
His gaze drifted to the others — laughing, chatting, complaining about morning training.
And then to Daniel — who stood like a beacon, confident and admired.
Oliver lowered his eyes.
He was a shadow here.
A nobody in a room full of heroes.
He was the disposable background character in someone else's story.
'Guess I just have to play the part… for now.'
And so, Oliver watched quietly as the others discussed training plans, sparred with enthusiasm, or griped about waking up early.
While they fantasized about glory...
…he planned how to survive.