"We have arrived, young master."
The driver's voice was calm, but to me, it sounded like an alarm bell. I turned to the window and saw the school's high gate widening before the luxurious car.
I opened the door and got out quietly. I took a deep breath, trying to comprehend that I was on the verge of a personal confrontation with someone I knew well... Clyde.
St. Helen's School. In the novel, this place was the stage for many events, some minor and some that decided the characters' fates. I remembered its minutest details from the text, even the classroom locations... and to my misfortune, Class B was the same class where Clyde studied.
I entered the main building. The shiny floors, the distinct smell of old books and fresh paint, and the sound of students' footsteps hurrying between classes... everything seemed disturbingly real.
When I opened the classroom door, I froze for a moment.
There, in the middle of the room, was Clyde, standing on the chest of a bully, slowly stepping on him, his face devoid of any expression.
The bully was panting and said in a choked voice:
· "When Eugene arrives... you'll pay for this!"
I felt a chill in my extremities.
In the novel, this was a normal moment that showcased Clyde's power... but now, happening before me, while I'm in Eugene's body, it was no longer an amusing sentence in a text. It had become a real threat.
The students gathered in silence, looking between Clyde and me as if watching a spark about to ignite.
I realized then that the "peaceful world" I had longed for was never a place of adventure or heroism. I wasn't the hero here... I was the person whose story would end tragically.
Clyde raised his head and looked directly at me. A small smile appeared on his face, a smile that held both mockery and anger at the same time.
Inside, I knew the reason.
The Clyde before me now had returned from attempt number 1100 to save the world... and I, Eugene Park, was the cause of his death there.
I didn't move.
He took one step forward, then almost disappeared from my field of vision due to his speed. Suddenly, he was in front of me, very close.
He reached out and grabbed my wrist forcefully. His fingers pressed into my arm so hard that I felt the pain shoot up to my shoulder.
He pulled his arm back, preparing for a direct strike. His expression hadn't changed; it was steady, focused on my face.
I knew that if this blow landed, I wouldn't even be able to respond.
Before his hand moved forward, we heard a voice from the front:
· "Stop right now!"
The teacher had arrived.
Clyde stopped immediately, released my wrist, and took a step back. He didn't comment, just gave me a short look and said in a low voice:
Then he walked to his seat in the front row, as if nothing had happened.
As for me, I remained standing in my place, breathing rapidly, while the students returned to their seats quietly. But their eyes were still watching me.
I sat in the back seat, trying not to make eye contact with anyone.
The class bell rang, its metallic sound filling the hall.
The students started taking out their notebooks and books, and some still stole glances at me as if waiting for my reaction to what had just happened.
I sat in my place, trying to control my breathing, but my eyes were irresistibly drawn to the scene on the left side of the class.
Over there, Clyde was standing talking to a girl.
The girl was placing her bag on the table and sitting down calmly. Her long black hair was half-tied up, and her features were calm. She wore her school uniform more neatly than the others, and her movements were precise, as if she didn't waste any energy.
I recognized her immediately.
Jessica.
In the novel, this girl was known among the students as being aloof; she didn't get close to anyone and had no close friends. But what most of them didn't know... was that Jessica, after the start of the "game" or the end of the world, was Clyde's companion in all his attempts and was known as the Sword of Justice. She would become one of the strongest people ever, with physical and mental strength, and combat skills matched by only a few.
But now, she was just an ordinary student, and everyone thought she was a quiet girl with no influence.
I saw Clyde smiling with her, exchanging a few words as if they had known each other for a long time.
I felt something tighten in my chest.
In the novel, there was no communication between them before the game. But now, it seems Clyde had started gathering his powerful allies early, before everything began.
If that's the case... he would gather all the rare talents and place them on his side, and me? I would remain with no chance of survival.
I turned my face to the wall, but my mind started working quickly.
If I wanted to survive, I had to get ahead of Clyde.
I had to recruit the talents before him.
I had to change the course of the novel from its foundation.
But how could I approach people who didn't even know me, while I'm in Eugene's body, known as a corrupt bully?
The teacher entered the class and started writing on the board. I tried to focus, but honestly... the lesson didn't matter to me. I was watching Jessica out of the corner of my eye.
Her movements, her way of sitting, even the features of her face when she wrote notes. All these details would be important when I decided on the next step.
The class passed slowly. And when the bell rang again, announcing break time, Jessica got up from her place, put her books in her bag, and left the classroom alone.
Clyde didn't follow her; he just gave a short glance towards the door and then went back to talking with a group of students.
An opportunity.
I stood up immediately. I felt the eyes of some students following me, but I ignored them and left the classroom.
The hallways were crowded with students. But I saw her heading towards the school's back courtyard—the place where she always sat during breaks.
I kept my distance, my eyes on the end of the courtyard where I had seen Clyde minutes before. Some students were moving near the building, and the sound of a ball hitting the wall was clear. I didn't hear any footsteps behind me.
The voice came from close by, dry and clear:
· "What are you doing, you scum... Eugene Park?"
I turned around immediately. Clyde was no more than two meters away. His shoulders were relaxed, his chin slightly lowered, and his gaze fixed on my face. He didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to.
I said nothing. I kept my hands at my sides and took a short breath.
He took one step towards me. The distance almost disappeared. I noticed a slight tension in his right shoulder and the shift of his body weight forward. That was the only signal.
The strike landed directly in my stomach.
His fist went in just below the ribs. The air left my lungs all at once. My body bent forward involuntarily. My knees hit the ground, left first then right. I couldn't take a full breath for two consecutive breaths. Saliva gathered in my mouth, and my vision wavered for a moment.
Before I could lift my head, he grabbed my hair from behind. His fingers gripped my scalp near the crown. The pain was focused and constant. He pulled my head up until my back straightened against my will.
He brought his mouth close to my ear and said in a low voice:
· "Are you trying to do something to Jessica... because you saw me with her?"
I tried to loosen his grip on my hair. Not a single finger moved. He pulled me from my spot.
He pulled me one step. My shoes scraped against the ground, making a harsh sound behind us. Some students stopped talking. Two moved back to clear the way. One raised his phone, then lowered it when he met Clyde's gaze.
He dragged me until we reached a tree with low branches at the edge of the courtyard.
He grabbed the collar of my shirt with one hand, and the area under my armpit with the other. He lifted me up in one go until my back touched the trunk. He shoved the fabric over a thick branch, then let me go.
I was left hanging by my shirt collar.
The fabric tightened against the back of my neck and under my armpits. My feet barely touched the ground, only the tips of my toes. My breathing became short but continuous. I tried to free the fabric from the branch with one hand, while the other held the trunk to lessen the load. Nothing moved.
He stepped back half a step, looked at my position for a moment, then turned to me again. The expression on his face hadn't changed. No visible anger, no laughter. Just inspection.
He said clearly:
· "There's no need to kill you. I have no desire to cause problems now."
He paused for a second, then continued:
· "But you will die... from the catastrophe. Or by my hand."
He left me hanging. He didn't add another word. He turned around.
Two students were passing by him. They lowered their heads. One of them moved away, pressed against the wall. Clyde didn't look back. He crossed the courtyard with regular steps until he disappeared behind the corner of the building.
The general sound of the courtyard gradually returned: a ball being kicked, a short laugh from a distant group, a juice can being opened. No one approached. Quick glances, then they moved away.