chapter 42: Elegance
So, Kaizer had taken matters into his own hands, and his worst worries had come true. When he finally saw Fighter, Fighter had been in a truly sorry state.
Thankfully, Kaizer hadn't been too late.
After taking care of Fighter, Kaizer returned to his own room. As he closed the door behind him, his mind drifted back to his strange new friend.
Kaizer: "Fighter really is a weird guy. I used to think what the old men in the slums mumbled was a lie—that you have to be mad to become a Story Bearer. But those inherited memories could drive anyone insane. I was lucky that not many people walked the same path as me, or I would've had to inherit far too many memories that weren't mine."
He paused, thinking back to Fighter's parting words.
Kaizer: "What did he mean when he said I looked like 'a pillar of light' in his vision? Did he mean it poetically or literally? His face was completely serious... even though he was squirming around in bed like a snake. Truly a madman."
Still, Kaizer couldn't help but smile slightly. He didn't think Fighter was that mad.
The next morning.
The UCA uniform was a wonderful Artifact, and wearing it was mandatory for every student, whether inside or outside campus grounds.
Kaizer genuinely loved the uniform—it was more comfortable than any clothing he had ever owned. He had never imagined a piece of fabric could feel like this. Ever since arriving at the UCA, he hadn't taken it off; the uniform possessed an automated self-cleaning function, ensuring it never stained or stank.
His stomach let out a low rumble. He was hungry, and as he headed out to eat, he felt a wave of genuine excitement.
The UCA canteen food was miles better than anything in the slums, and best of all, he didn't have to fight or struggle for it. Three solid meals a day were provided for free, though anyone wanting extra delicacies had to pay out of pocket.
Before heading down to the canteen, Kaizer stopped by to check on Fighter. He knocked on the door, and after a moment, Fighter opened it.
Kaizer: "Fighter! How are you feeling? Any better than yesterday?"
Fighter's POV
Fighter woke up in the morning feeling heavy and hazy. He tried to move out of bed and slowly stood up, immediately catching a metallic, sour stench in the air. He was stinking from the feverish sweat of the previous night.
Fighter looked back at his bed; it was wet and stained with blood.
He slowly walked toward the basin to freshen up, checking his whole body for any new wounds or cuts. But there weren't any.
Kaizer had already checked his body yesterday. Kaizer's Script was very helpful for healing; after just one night under his care, Fighter was fully healed.
Fighter thought, 'At least I can control my body a bit better than before the trial.'
If Fighter moved slowly, his body obeyed him just fine. But whenever he tried to move fast, his limbs lagged a second behind his thoughts. It was a weird, frustrating feeling, but words couldn't really describe it.
Fighter: "Maybe sorcery would help me to fully control my body."
Without natural talent or resources, UCA help would be minimal, if any. If you wanted something in this world, you had to take it—and taking something is always easier when you are hidden.
If Fighter had a choice, he would have stayed hidden, but his SSA-class student status wouldn't allow that anymore. Still, he wasn't that worried about it; if he didn't change his plans with circumstances, then this new chance in life would be useless.
Fighter was almost naked, walking toward the bathroom for a shower.