From the corner of my eye, I caught the faint crease of worry on Lena's brow.
She won't leave me alone.
Just as I wanted.
I forced my legs to move, one sluggish step after another, putting distance between us.
Even as my body screamed in protest, I kept going.
My legs felt like lead, trembling with each step, but I pushed through the pain with sheer willpower alone.
Because I had to.
My entire plan hinged on her next move.
If she was the same person described in the novel—the kindhearted, meddlesome professor—then everything would go as planned.
But if I had misjudged her…
If she really was the cold, detached professional she pretended to be…
Then this was all for nothing.
My body was at its limit. If she didn't stop me, I wouldn't make it much further.
I wouldn't even be able to crawl.
Which meant I'd be stuck right here.
Out in the open. Vulnerable.
A scenario I absolutely couldn't afford.
As the distance between us grew, my chest tightened with dread.
I could feel it—the creeping panic clawing at my throat.
Was this it?
Did I miscalculate?
I gritted my teeth, forcing my legs to keep moving, even as my vision blurred at the edges.
Do I have no choice but—
"W-Wait!"
Lena's voice rang out, sharp and urgent, cutting through my spiraling thoughts.
I froze.
Relief washed over me, and my tense shoulders relaxed just a fraction.
Got her.
Slowly, I turned my head, schooling my expression into one of mild surprise.
"Yes…?" I asked weakly, my voice barely above a whisper.
When our eyes met, I saw the worry in hers. Her lips were parted, breath uneven from calling out.
"I'll help you," she said firmly, already stepping toward me.
For a moment, I blinked at her, feigning uncertainty.
"Oh… you don't have to," I mumbled, forcing a faint smile despite the exhaustion in my voice. "I'll be fine."
"No." She shook her head, her tone leaving no room for debate. "I'll feel better if I do."
Her kindness was predictable.
I glanced away, as if embarrassed by my own helplessness.
"Thank you…" I murmured, letting my voice carry a hint of relief. "I appreciate it."
When she reached out and placed a steadying hand on my arm, I had to suppress a smirk.
A superhuman bus—picking up a stranded passenger right on schedule.
The thought almost made me laugh.
But I kept my face neutral. This was too critical to screw up.
Her kindness was useful.
Annoyingly so.
In the novel, that same compassion was her undoing. She'd rush into danger, trying to save everyone, only to get herself killed. A fan-favorite professor snuffed out early for cheap drama.
"Never a Heroine," the readers called it—a trope where someone with potential dies before they can shine.
Meeting her now, I could see why she'd charmed them. Too bad it wouldn't save her.
She was already walking the path I needed her to, and I was steering her right along it.
---
Twenty-five minutes.
That was all it took for us to climb the rocky mountain and reach the destination.
Twenty-five minutes.
If I'd been alone?
I'd still be dragging myself up the slope, probably collapsing before sundown.
But thanks to my superhuman bus, I made it in record time.
Better than I'd hoped.
By now, my body had recovered enough to walk normally again.
Lena lowered herself to the ground, stretching her legs with a tired sigh.
We'd made it.
I inhaled deeply, the crisp mountain air filling my lungs, and exhaled through my nose.
I was this close to my goal.
Turning to Lena, I dipped my head slightly.
"Thanks for the assist," I said, keeping my tone casual but appreciative. "If you hadn't stepped in, I'd have missed my shot."
Lena gave a small, modest smile.
"No, it's fine. I just did what anyone would do," she replied softly. Then she pointed to the right. "The spring you mentioned—it's just over there."
I followed her gesture and spotted the small spring.
I nodded faintly.
"Yeah. Thanks."
I walked toward it, my steps slow but steady.
No room for mistakes now.
In the novel, some throwaway villain stumbled across this spot by dumb luck. A fortuitous encounter, hidden in plain sight.
The method to unlock its blessing was absurdly simple if you knew it.
But to anyone else, it'd look ridiculous.
"Excuse me, student… what are you doing?"
Lena's voice carried a note of confusion as she watched me bow toward the spring.
I didn't blame her.
Bowing to a puddle of water probably wasn't a common sight.
I straightened up and flashed her a sheepish grin.
"They say this spring's good for your health," I said, rubbing the back of my neck. "Figured I'd play it safe and show some respect. Can't hurt, right?"
The excuse sounded flimsy, but it did the trick.
I caught the pity flicker across her face—perfect.
I didn't love being the sad sack in her eyes, but it worked for now.
Because today, I was fixing this broken body of mine.
My time-limited life was over.
And Lena's help had gotten me here—whether she knew it or not.
For the help she has provided me today, I would sure to repay her in future.
Anyways, it's time for me to do my work.
I bowed again, three times, slow and deliberate.
On the third bow, the spring trembled.
A soft hum filled the air as the water glowed, casting a faint, ethereal light.
It was happening.
My first fortuitous encounter—the one that'd turn this frail shell into something worth keeping.
The real start of everything.