SMACK.
The kinetic shockwave of impact echoed through the hall.
Someone had caught his wrist.
My vision cleared just enough to make out the newcomer. It was a girl with extremely pale skin, her eyes glowing a chilling, piercing red. She wasn't straining or struggling against Tsume's monstrous strength at all.
She just stared down at him with an aura of absolute authority.
"Who the hell do you think—" Tsume snarled, his voice dripping with venom as he violently snapped his head around to glare at whoever dared interrupt him.
But the moment his pale white eye met hers, the words died in his throat.
The psychotic, bloodthirsty grin that had just been plastered across his face vanished instantly.
Up close, the girl's features were flawless. Her pale skin contrasted sharply with her piercing red eyes, and there was a dark, elegant grace to the way she carried herself. She didn't look at him with fear or awe; she looked at him like he was a minor inconvenience.
To my absolute bewilderment, Tsume's terrifying aura completely evaporated.
His eyes widened, and a sudden, faint dusting of pink rushed to his cheeks. For the first time since he had stepped onto the ship, Tsume Harasayuki looked completely out of his depth.
He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing as a genuine wave of nervousness washed over him. It wasn't the panic of being overpowered—it was the sudden, overwhelming panic of a boy who just realized he looked like a messy, unhinged brute in front of the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.
"I..." Tsume stammered, his voice entirely losing its cruel edge.
He cleared his throat, trying—and failing—to desperately regain his cool, elite composure.
"I mean... um," Tsume corrected himself, his tone dropping an octave as he tried to sound suave. "Is there... something I can help you with?"
I laid there on the cold steel floor, completely stunned. "What in the world is happening?" I thought.
My lungs were still burning, my arms were completely numb, and my brain was struggling to process the sheer absurdity of the situation.
Just seconds ago, this guy was promising me a fist to my face. Now, he was standing rigidly at attention, fidgeting with his collar, completely ignoring my existence because he was utterly starstruck.
Tsume's awkward, stammering question hung in the dead silence of the cafeteria.
The girl didn't blink. Her glowing red eyes stared straight through him, entirely unimpressed.
The heavy tension in the room felt like a drawn bowstring, with every recruit waiting to see how the terrifying Harasayuki prodigy would react to this disrespect.
Tsume just stood there, practically holding his breath, waiting for her to swoon.
Instead, the girl simply let go of his wrist. As she shifted her weight, her long, ocean-blue hair cascaded over her shoulder, revealing a dark, intricate ink pattern winding down her right arm.
I stared at the sharp, aggressive lines for a second. It didn't look like any Academy insignia or standard military mark I recognized, nor was it a scar. Whatever the crest meant, the history behind it was completely lost on me—but it carried an undeniable, intimidating weight.
"Help me?" she repeated. Her voice was completely deadpan, carrying a chillingly nonchalant tone that cut right through Tsume's elite posturing. "No. But you can start by stepping aside. You're breathing too loudly."
Tsume's jaw actually dropped. His face flushed a deeper shade of red. "I—what?"
She didn't repeat herself. She stoically ignored his sputtering. With absolute composure, she brushed right past him as if he were nothing more than a misplaced piece of cafeteria furniture.
And Tsume—the arrogant prodigy who had just been promising to end my life moments ago—actually shuffled out of her way, completely frozen in a state of embarrassed panic.
She knelt beside me on the cold steel floor. Up close, her skin was so pale it looked almost porcelain, contrasting sharply with those intense crimson eyes.
But as she looked down at my battered, exhausted state, the intimidating aura completely vanished.
A small, surprisingly gentle smile touched her lips, bringing out faint dimples on her cheeks.
"You survived a three-hundred-lap death march, and you decided picking a fight with a human megaphone was a good cool-down exercise?" she asked. Her words dripped with dry sarcasm, but her tone was undeniably kindhearted.
She extended her hand toward me.
"I'm Saki," she said bluntly.
I stared at her hand for a second before taking it. Her grip, though offered gently, was calloused and firm.
"S-Shujinko." I replied awkwardly.
She pulled me up with surprising physical strength, her technical balance flawless as she hoisted my dead weight off the floor.
"Let's get you up before he remembers he's supposed to be intimidating," Saki added, completely unbothered by the fact that Tsume was standing right behind her.
Over Saki's shoulder, I could see him. Tsume was still glued to the spot, staring at the back of her long blue hair like his brain had completely short-circuited.
He looked between Saki, me, and his unconscious goons on the floor, his elite arrogance entirely derailed.
A few feet away, Ging was finally pushing himself up off the floor. He adjusted his crooked glasses, his jaw hanging wide open as he witnessed the impossible.
Someone had just completely humbled Tsume Harasayuki without throwing a single punch.
CLANG.
The heavy steel doors of the main hall suddenly parted, the loud mechanism slicing through the dead silence of the cafeteria.
The suffocating tension Saki had brought into the room was instantly replaced by a completely different kind of pressure.
A squad of high-ranking crew members marched through the threshold, but my eyes were drawn immediately to the man leading them.
Kyo Harasayuki. The Overseer of the ship.
He walked with his hands clasped sharply behind his back, his posture impossibly rigid. Every step he took down the center aisle was elegant, precise, and completely devoid of warmth. He didn't look angry; his face was set in a chillingly monotone expression as his gaze swept over the unconscious goons and the scattered debris.
Finally, his eyes locked onto his son.
Tsume violently shook his head, the flustered, lovesick haze instantly shattering as reality crashed back down on him.
He stiffened, standing up a little straighter, but the damage was already done.
Kyo stopped a few feet away. He didn't yell. He didn't have to. He just stared at Tsume with a look of absolute, soul-crushing disappointment.
"You never fail to bring disgrace to the Harasayuki name," Kyo whispered. The words were quiet, but they cut through the silent room like a blade. "My office. Now, boy."
Tsume swallowed hard, the last remnants of his cruel arrogance evaporating into pure reluctance. "Yes, sir."
Without sparing a single glance back at Saki or me, Tsume lowered his head and quickly marched toward the exit, flanked by the crew members.
Kyo turned to follow them, but before stepping back through the heavy doors, he paused. He looked back over his shoulder, his cold, dismissive gaze sweeping over Saki, Ging, and me as we stood on the steel floor.
"The rest of you will clear out of the main hall immediately," he commanded, his voice leaving absolutely no room for debate. "Get out. Now."
None of us were willing to test the Overseer's patience.
"Yes, sir," we replied in unison.