"Asagi, wake up, school's already over."
"Mmm… ah, Cid? School's finished already? Then I've got to go, my part-time job's about to start and I'll be late."
The woman in front of him, who had just lifted her head from the desk after napping, was named Asagi Aiba. Black hair, red eyes, old-fashioned glasses, and a plain, unfashionable outfit. She was a local resident of World No. 2's Itogami Island, and one of the few mob friends he had managed to make at this school.
They said that before the worlds merged, she was just a regular good student. But after the fusion, her magic talent was discovered, so she transferred schools.
Since the different worlds had different systems of power, a new evaluation scale had been created to roughly standardize ability. From lowest to highest, it went: D, C, B, A, S, SS, SSS, and Dragon God.
Unfortunately, even with decent talent, after only about a year of training, her strength was only at C+. In this school, which placed a heavy emphasis on combat ability, that put her at best in the lower middle ranks—even if her written test scores were good.
"Been busy lately? Sleeping through the day and still so tired. Luckily Teacher Nayue didn't have class today, and the other teachers don't really care. Otherwise, you'd be stuck writing reflections again."
"Yeah, it's been rough. Some problems at my part-time job, not easy to fix. I've been up late every night."
"Are you sure it's just a small problem? I've never seen you spend this much time on something. Even sleeping through class isn't solving it."
"Don't worry. Two days over the weekend will definitely be enough to settle it. (And even if I told you, it wouldn't help.) No time to chat, I need to go now. Once I've got it fixed, we can hang out again."
She hurriedly packed her things and rushed out. Cid sighed.
That one line she muttered quietly—she probably thought he didn't hear. But he did. Loud and clear.
Even if she was just one of his mob friends, he had gone out of his way to show concern. Being brushed off so casually still stung a little. (Though part of his concern was because her constant sleeping meant his usual school gossip source had dried up.)
He packed his bag, grabbed his wooden sword, and headed for the training grounds. He ignored the overused magic practice area and went straight into the empty swordsmanship room.
Instead of practicing immediately, he first moved to a blind spot from the cameras, pulled a white crystal block from the void, then went to face the wooden training dummy.
"Shhh~ shhh~"
Cid Kagenou—according to his persona, he was a minor noble with a little talent, average grades, and no inheritance prospects. In short: a mob.
But at this new school, the passing bar for both written tests and combat had risen. His "average" scores from before now made him bottom-ranked, which ruined his carefully maintained mob role.
So he needed a way to raise his strength just enough to move back from dead-last to lower-middle class, while still fitting the mob persona. The solution: extra training. Because even a hardworking mob was still a mob.
But there was a problem. He couldn't accept wasting hours each day on meaningless training just to keep up appearances.
His fix was simple (at least to him): train in ways nobody else could notice.
For example: right now, although it looked like he was holding a wooden sword, in reality he had flooded it with magic, constantly shifting its weight from that of a feather to that of a mountain. This trained his body, reflexes, and control.
Of course, there were drawbacks. He had to divert magic to stabilize space itself, and one slip of control could destroy the school—or sink the island.
But compared to the benefit of being able to both practice as a "mob" while secretly training as the true Eminence in Shadow, the drawbacks were trivial.
"Shhh—shhh—"
Each swing traced the exact same path, no matter how the weight shifted in an instant. From mountain-heavy to feather-light, his speed remained steady.
Right before striking the dummy, he slowed the swing at 0.003 cm, then pulled back completely at 0.001 cm.
That was why such a simple wooden-sword drill, without even visible magic, left him drenched in sweat in half an hour.
To outsiders, it looked like a talentless mob pointlessly exhausting himself. Some darker classmates might even mock him—"hard work is useless"—before a heroine stepped up to defend him, sparking affection. But that was impossible.
He trained after school specifically to avoid that trope. Hard work was his excuse for improving, not for ruining his mob act.
And if anyone ever suspected his progress, recordings of these long, fruitless sessions would dismiss suspicion. After all, no genius would waste hours on such useless drills.
As he swung, his pupils suddenly narrowed. A smirk tugged at his lips. Without stopping the swing, he silently withdrew the magic stabilizing the sword and space.
He continued the routine like a mob, sweating through an hour and a half of "pointless" training.
Finally, with visible exhaustion and shaky legs, he prepared his finishing touch: stumble backward, collapse like a worn-out mob… and then—
"W-whoa! L-Lady Nayue?! Wh-what are you doing here?"
He fell back with a startled cry, his mob body collapsing from fatigue, then recognized her and stammered nervously—perfect mob acting.
The woman in front of him, with long black hair to her waist, blue eyes, and dressed in Gothic Lolita style, was small—barely 140 cm. Yet she was indeed a teacher at this school: Nangong Nayue, one of World No. 2's strongest sorcerers, nicknamed the "Witch of the Void."
"I just arrived. But isn't this my line? Why are you still here so late? You do know students aren't supposed to stay after hours, right?"
"U-um… sorry. Teacher Nayue, you know my talent is poor. To even pass, I have to train extra. But the off-campus facilities are too expensive, so… please, Teacher Nayue, don't tell the school."
"…Since it's your first time, I'll let it go. But only this once. Next time, find another place. I patrol this school at night."
"Eh?! O-okay…" He put on a crestfallen face, picked up his bag, and shuffled out.
"Also—things haven't been very peaceful lately. Best not to go out at night."
She added this warning as he left.