The capital's early morning chill bit through the courtyard stone like an unspoken challenge. The sun bled golden light across the training field, casting long shadows from towering castle walls. It was far too early for teenagers to be functional, let alone heroic.
Yet there they stood—thirty Japanese students clad in light practice gear, half-awake, some yawning, others visibly trying not to fall over.
Among them was Renji Aikawa, arms folded, his expression unreadable save for the slight twitch in his brow. His obsidian-black hair was tied back into a rough ponytail, and the morning light glinted faintly off the edge of the silver plate he held.
Beside him, Hajime Nagumo slumped against a wooden post like a man moments from death.
The capital's early morning air carried a crisp bite, sharp enough to jolt even the sleepiest soul upright. In the sprawling courtyard behind the royal training grounds, thirty students stood in neat, if slightly uneven, rows—faces ranging from groggy confusion to forced determination.
Among them was Renji Aikawa, eyes narrowed against the rising sun, arms crossed loosely over his chest. He stood like someone who had slept with one eye open, his black hair pulled into a messy low ponytail, casting a faint shadow across his brow.
"Didn't think we'd be waking up before dawn in another world too," Hajime Nagumo muttered beside him, dark circles threatening to swallow his eyes whole. He held a small, silvery rectangle in one hand, squinting at it as if it had personally wronged him.
Renji tilted his head slightly. "You thought being summoned by gods came with vacation hours?"
"I was hoping for a decent breakfast first."
"I saw what you ate last night."
"It looked edible!"
"It looked like it wanted to eat you."
Before Hajime could retort, the heavy iron doors to the courtyard boomed open.
Marching through them with a kind of unshakable confidence only battle-hardened veterans carried, Captain Meld Loggins made his entrance. A tower of muscle and armor, the man radiated authority with a wide grin plastered across his bearded face.
"Alright, you greenhorns! Rise and shine!" he called out with the booming voice of a commander who'd barked orders through a thousand battlefields. "Hope you all stretched—because today marks your first step toward becoming actual warriors, not just a bunch of summoned brats with no clue how to hold a sword!"
The students stiffened, some straightening on instinct, others blinking in alarm.
"I'm Captain Meld Loggins of the Imperial Knights," he continued, pacing in front of the group. "And starting today, I'll be in charge of turning you into something that doesn't die in the first ten seconds of a real battle. Think of me as your teacher, trainer, and personal nightmare."
He paused, letting his words settle like a weight across their shoulders.
"Also, side bonus: this training gives me an excuse to dump all my paperwork on the poor vice-captain. He's gonna hate me by the end of the week."
A few chuckles slipped out. Meld smiled wider.
"Right then! You've all got one of these, yeah?" He held up a silver plate, about twelve by seven centimeters, with a faintly glowing magical circle engraved on one side. "This, my friends, is a Status Plate. It'll show you your stats, skills, attributes, and—if the gods haven't made a clerical error—your class."
Whispers rippled through the group. Some glanced down at their plates with growing interest.
Meld pointed toward a small box beside him, filled with sterilized needles.
"Here's how it works: prick your finger with one of these, drop a bit of blood onto the circle on the plate, and then say 'Open Status.' Once it activates, the plate will bond to you, and you'll get your full information. No, I don't know how it works. Magic. Ancient tech. Artifacts from the Age of the Gods. Don't ask me, I just work here."
He waved his hand toward the aides who began handing out the needles.
Captain Meld's voice carried through the stone hall as he continued explaining the plates, sounding both proud and strangely casual, like someone showing off a prized relic.
"These aren't just slabs of metal, alright? They're ancient relics passed down by the gods themselves," he said, holding one up for emphasis. "They respond to your mana, sync with it, and record your identity. The glow you see—yeah, that's your unique mana signature. No one else has the same."
"These status plates are widely used throughout the kingdom. Citizens, adventurers, knights, nobles—they all carry them. They're used for identification and, more importantly, gauging your potential. So don't lose yours, unless you want to be mistaken for a bandit or some poor soul with amnesia."
Renji turned the plate over in his hands, silently studying the arcane lines that shimmered across the metal. Something in them felt... familiar. Or maybe it was just the weight of expectation sinking in.
Hajime held his up as well. "So, we don't even know our classes until this thing tells us?"
Renji nodded. "Looks that way."
"Great. Can't wait to find out I'm something like 'Bard' or 'Professional Victim.'"
"Better than 'Damsel in Distress.'"
"I will stab you," Hajime muttered, holding the needle with shaky fingers.
Renji smirked faintly. "You'd miss."
The two stood quietly for a moment, each with a plate in one hand, needle in the other.
A few students had already begun the process, murmuring "Open Status" after letting a single drop of blood fall onto their plates. Gasps and murmurs began rising as one by one, their identities as warriors—or something else entirely—were unveiled.
Renji took a slow breath.
This is it. The moment the gods show their hand.
And as he let the needle pierce his skin, letting a small crimson bead drip onto the cold silver surface, a strange sensation rippled through him. Something ancient. Something vast.
The magic circle shimmered.
And then, the plate began to glow.
Renji stepped forward, his heart pounding in his chest as the weight of the moment pressed down on him. The glowing plate in his hands hummed with a strange, almost unsettling energy. As his mana flowed into it, the plate flickered and pulsed, casting off a deep, eerie glow.
Renji's pulse quickened. He hadn't expected anything like this. The color—it wasn't the usual light that most students' plates emitted. It was a rich, swirling violet, streaked with silver, like some cosmic force had just been channeled through him.
His mind raced. What the hell is this? he wondered, his thoughts spiraling. This isn't normal.
Captain Meld, standing by the side, had been watching quietly, but now he stepped forward, his eyes locked onto the glowing plate. His brow furrowed, and for a moment, he looked as if he'd seen a ghost. He leaned in, examining the light closely, but his expression was that of utter confusion.
"That... color," Meld muttered under his breath. "I've never seen anything like it."
Renji turned to him, unsure whether he should say anything. "Captain? What's happening? What does this mean?"
Meld didn't seem to hear him at first. His hand hovered over the plate as though he were trying to understand what he was looking at, but his fingers never quite touched it. He cleared his throat and finally spoke, though his tone was far from the usual confidence he displayed in front of others.
"I—" He paused, visibly struggling to find the words. "I'm not sure what's going on here. I've seen plenty of class reveals over the years, but this... This isn't like anything I know of."
Renji's confusion deepened. Not like anything he knows of? Does he think this is some sort of mistake?
Captain Meld continued, though his voice now had an edge of uncertainty. "This mana color... It's rare, but it's not something I've encountered before. The Church keeps records of most class types, but... this one? I've never heard of a class with this color."
Renji's head spun. The Church? What does that even mean? He was about to ask, but Meld spoke again, his gaze focused entirely on the glowing plate.
"I don't know what you are, Renji Aikawa," Meld muttered, almost to himself. "But whatever this is, it's not something I can easily categorize. By the Church's standards, this is something... incredibly rare. Not something you see every day. Hell, not something you see ever."
Renji's thoughts raced. He had no idea what any of this meant. Rare? How rare? What does this class even do?
Meld took a step back, his expression serious now as he folded his arms across his chest. His voice was low, filled with an odd mixture of caution and intrigue. "I'm not going to lie to you. I have no idea what your class actually is. But from what I can tell, it's... it's like no other class I've seen before. Some rare, lost knowledge, maybe?"
Renji looked down at the glowing plate, his mind still reeling. He wasn't sure whether to feel frightened or excited. His hands trembled slightly as the light seemed to flicker and pulse in his grip.
"Whatever it is," Meld continued, his voice firmer, "it's powerful. You've got a class that's outside the Church's knowledge. That doesn't happen. This isn't just a coincidence. You've got a gift."
Renji's brow furrowed. "A gift? What do you mean? What does it do?"
Meld shook his head slowly. "I don't know. But I do know that it's extremely rare. Classes like this, with this kind of power, aren't something most people ever even hear of."
Renji, still trying to process the flood of information, took a deep breath. "So... what now?"
Meld looked up at him, his eyes hardening with resolve. "Now? Now, you need to learn how to control it. I don't know exactly what this power is, but I can tell you this much: it's dangerous if mishandled. You can't just go around winging it with something this powerful."
Renji nodded, swallowing hard. Whatever this "Time Reaver" class was, it was clear it had the potential to change everything. But the fact that Captain Meld didn't even know what it was only added to the weight of the situation.
Meld turned to the other students, who were still watching in stunned silence. "Get back to your assignments," he barked, trying to regain his composure. "This... this situation is far from normal. I'll need to figure out more about what's going on here."
As the other students dispersed, Renji felt the weight of Meld's words settle on him. This wasn't just a fluke. It wasn't just a strange coincidence. Whatever this class was, it was rare. Rare enough that the Church didn't even have any information on it. And now, he was the one holding it.
Renji Aikawa
Age: 17
Gender: Male
Level: 1
Job: Time Reaver
Strength: 65
Vitality: 60
Defense: 58
Agility: 90
Magic: 95
Magic Defense: 85
Skills:
• Temporal Sync
• Chrono Weave
• Eclipse Edge
• Rewind (Minor)
• Language Comprehension
Mana Color: Midnight Violet with Silvery Streaks
The plate flickered one last time before it stabilized, but Renji could still feel its strange energy pulsing beneath his skin. He didn't know what was happening, but he knew this was only the beginning. Whatever the "Time Reaver" class was, he was going to have to figure it out on his own—and fast.
Meld's words echoed in his mind: By the Church's standards, this is something... incredibly rare. That was the only certainty Renji had for now.
As Captain Meld moved on to the next student, Hajime stood still, his thoughts racing. He had already seen Renji's shocking reveal. The Time Reaver was an anomaly, something rare, something incredible.
Now it was his turn. Hajime swallowed hard and glanced down at his status plate, heart pounding. His class was displayed clearly: Synergist.
Synergist? Hajime frowned, trying to process what that meant. He had heard the term before. It wasn't anything special. It was a commonplace class, one that didn't stand out among the many support classes people could have. It was what blacksmiths or alchemists often were called. The kind of class that transmuted materials, like metal or even basic substances, into something useful.
His mind was already going through the basics of what a Synergist could do. It was practical, yes, but it wasn't anything flashy. There were no grand powers or abilities to speak of. It was just... useful.
"Alright, Nagumo!" Captain Meld's voice broke him out of his thoughts. "Let's see what you've got!"
Hajime hesitated for a moment before he lifted the plate. His heart beat louder in his ears as the plate's information appeared before him.
Hajime Nagumo
Age: 17
Gender: Male
Level: 1
Job: Synergist
Strength: 10
Vitality: 10
Defense: 10
Agility: 10
Magic: 10
Magic Defense: 10
Skills:
• Transmute
• Language Comprehension
Mana Color: Light Blue
Hajime blinked. The stats were exactly the same as everyone else's: all perfect 10s. It didn't even feel special. He glanced up, looking at Captain Meld, who was smiling brightly.
"Synergist, huh? Not bad! You've got solid stats across the board! Now, that class is pretty common, usually taken up by people working in crafts, transmuting metals, materials... you know, practical stuff like that. You're gonna be great at helping the others with gear and supplies!"
Hajime's face fell slightly. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't what he had expected. He thought maybe he'd be different, something unique. Instead, he got a job that was the opposite of attention-grabbing. Transmuting metals? Practical stuff?
He let out a sigh. I guess that makes sense. They don't need another fighter. But still...
Captain Meld clapped him on the back with a wide grin. "Hey, don't look so down! A Synergist can be super useful. Just look at blacksmiths and alchemists. Without them, you wouldn't even have the weapons you need to fight. Your class could be a key part of the team. You'll definitely be able to help everyone out in your own way!"
Hajime nodded stiffly, forcing a smile. Yeah... I guess I'll just have to make the most of it.
But deep down, Hajime couldn't shake the feeling that he had just been handed a job that was far from what he expected of a hero.
Kouki was the next to step forward, confidently walking up to Captain Meld. The attention of the entire group was on him, and despite the weight of their gazes, he felt oddly calm. This was his moment.
"Here you go, Captain," Kouki said, handing over his status plate with a proud smile. His heart raced a little, but he kept his composure.
Captain Meld took the plate and quickly scanned it, his eyebrows furrowing in disbelief as he read the numbers. He looked up at Kouki, clearly surprised. Then, he began reading aloud.
Kouki Amanogawa
Age: 17
Gender: Male
Level: 1
Job: Hero
Strength: 100
Vitality: 100
Defense: 100
Agility: 100
Magic: 100
Magic Defense: 100
Skills:
• Elemental Affinity
• Elemental Resistance
• Physical Resistance
• Advanced Sorcery
• Swordsmanship
• Superhuman Strength
• Armor Proficiency
• Foresight
• Increased Mana Recovery
• Detect Presence
• Detect Magic
• Limit Break
• Language Comprehension
Captain Meld stared at the plate for a moment, his jaw slack with disbelief. The silence that followed was thick, the other students watching with wide eyes, unsure of what to make of what they had just seen.
"…Huh?" Captain Meld finally muttered, still processing what he'd just read. "Wait, no way… You've already got stats in the triple digits, and that's just level 1? You've got that many skills too?"
The other students around him stared in awe, their gazes filled with shock and envy. Some whispered to each other, but all Kouki could do was smile sheepishly, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips.
"Well... you know... I'm just lucky, I guess," Kouki said, his voice a little awkward but trying to sound humble.
Meld's eyes never left the status plate as he continued, "This isn't normal! At level 1, you should only have a few skills and stats around 10 or 20. But you've got stats far beyond that… You're already stronger than most veterans, and you've got superhuman stats on top of it."
The other students stared at Kouki, their mouths hanging open in surprise. No one had expected this.
"Hah, looks like we've got a real hero on our hands," Captain Meld said with a chuckle, though his voice held a hint of awe. "This kind of power is crazy at level 1! You're practically a walking cheat code!"
"Well, uh, I wouldn't go that far…" Kouki said, scratching his head, trying to downplay the praise. "It's just… I'm still getting used to all this, you know?"
Captain Meld laughed and clapped him on the back. "Yeah, well, get used to it fast. With stats like those, you'll be saving us all in no time. You're going to be one hell of a hero."
Kouki felt a small sense of pride, but also the pressure building on his shoulders. A hero… The weight of the title started to settle in.
Looking around at the others, Kouki could see their mixed expressions—some were still staring at him in disbelief, while others looked at their own status plates, comparing their numbers. Some seemed relieved that Kouki was taking the spotlight; others seemed... less impressed.
"Well," Captain Meld said after a moment, clearing his throat and turning to the rest of the group, "Looks like we've got a hero amongst us already. It's gonna be hard to follow up that one, huh?"
The others laughed nervously, still processing Kouki's overwhelming stats. No one had ever heard of someone with so much potential at level 1.
Hajime stood quietly, gripping his status plate in his hand. The attention of the class was now on him, and he could feel the weight of their stares. His heart raced, but not with excitement—no, it was the weight of embarrassment, knowing what was coming next.
His classmates, especially the boys, had always been hostile towards him. They didn't need an excuse to belittle him. His job was "Synergist"—a blacksmith's job. In a world full of warriors, magic users, and heroes, being a blacksmith was the last thing he wanted. He could already imagine the ridicule he'd face.
Daisuke Hiyama, a bully who always found ways to torment Hajime, smirked as he looked at him.
"Hey, Nagumo," Hiyama called out with a sneer. "Don't tell me you seriously got a non-combat job? A blacksmith? How the hell are you gonna fight monsters with that?" His voice rang with mockery, and Hajime could feel his classmates' eyes all turn to him, waiting for the fallout.
"Hey, Captain Meld!" Hiyama continued, turning to the instructor with a grin. "Is this Synergist thing some rare job or what? You sure he's not just weak?"
Meld's face remained neutral as he took the status plate, glancing at it briefly. "No, not particularly," he replied. "One in every ten people has that class. All the craftsmen in the kingdom have it." His tone was matter-of-fact, but Hajime could tell it didn't really help his case.
"Gimme a break, Nagumo," Hiyama sneered. "You're gonna fight with something like that? What's next? You going to forge a sword and just hope it does something?"
The group of boys around Hiyama laughed, their eyes glinting with derision. Hajime stood there, the heat of humiliation flooding his face. It was like the whole class had turned on him. He had been hoping for a moment of respect, but instead, he was the target for their amusement.
Hiyama raised his voice again, louder this time. "Show us your stats, then, if you're so confident. They better be way high to make up for your shitty job."
Hajime didn't even need to glance at the others to know what they'd say. He'd seen their reactions when Kouki revealed his. His stats were nothing special—not compared to the others.
With a sigh, Hajime handed the plate to Hiyama. The smug look on Hiyama's face only deepened as he read the numbers out loud, making sure the entire class could hear.
Hajime Nagumo
Age: 17
Gender: Male
Level: 1
Job: Synergist
Strength: 10
Vitality: 10
Defense: 10
Agility: 10
Magic: 10
Magic Defense: 10
Hiyama burst out laughing. "Bwahahaha! What the hell, man! You're like totally average! Actually, 10's exactly average. I bet there are babies out there stronger than you!" He passed the plate around to his underlings, who joined in, mocking Hajime with their cruel laughter.
"Hyahaha! This guy's not even gonna last ten minutes! He'd die so fast, you couldn't even use him as a meat shield!"
Hajime stood motionless, taking it all in. His hands were shaking, but he refused to let his frustration show. He had expected this. The bitterness was nothing new.
The laughter from Hiyama and his group rang in his ears as he glanced around the room. Most of the boys in the class were either snickering or shaking their heads in disbelief. Even the girls, who usually didn't partake in such things, looked uncomfortable, but they didn't step in either.
He stood there, alone in the sea of laughter, his pride gnawing at him. He couldn't do anything. Not in this moment. His class was filled with people much stronger than him. They all had powers that could kill a monster in an instant. And here he was, barely even a stepping stone in their eyes.
Kaori, standing nearby, opened her mouth to speak, but before she could get a word out, the instructor, Aiko-sensei, finally intervened.
"Hey! Stop laughing at him!" Aiko-sensei's voice was sharp, cutting through the noise like a blade. "I won't allow anyone to laugh at their classmates on my watch! As a teacher, I absolutely will not condone it! Now return Nagumo-kun's plate this instant!"
The tension in the room remained thick, but Aiko-sensei's sudden outburst seemed to defuse it, at least momentarily. The boys, who had been so eager to make Hajime the target of their cruel jokes, were now taken aback by the sight of their teacher's anger. Their faces grew sheepish as they hurriedly passed Hajime's plate back to him, no longer daring to provoke him under the threat of Aiko-sensei's wrath.
Aiko-sensei, seemingly unaware of the change in the atmosphere, turned to Hajime with a warm smile and a supportive pat on his shoulder. "Nagumo-kun, don't worry about your job! Look, I got a non-combat job too!" She beamed up at him, her eyes shining with sincerity. "And aside from my job, most of my stats are pretty average too! You're not alone!"
Hajime's gaze shifted from the plate in his hands to Aiko-sensei, trying to force a smile despite the tight knot of frustration that was coiling in his chest. Aiko-sensei pulled out her own plate, her bright pink-colored plate, and handed it to him. "Here, look!"
Hajime took the plate, his fingers trembling slightly as he read it.
Hatayama Aiko
Age: 25
Gender: Female
Level: 1
Job: Farmer
Strength: 5
Vitality: 10
Defense: 10
Agility: 5
Magic: 100
Magic Defense: 10
Skills:
Soil Management
Soil Restoration
Large-scale Cultivation
Enhanced Fertilization
Selective Breeding
Plant Appraisal
Fertilizer Production
Mixed Breeding
Auto Harvesting
Fermentation Proficiency
Wide-area Temperature Control
Farming Barrier
Fertile Rain
Language Comprehension
Hajime blinked at the plate, his face quickly falling into a blank expression. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate her trying to cheer him up, but when he looked at the stats, he couldn't help but feel a little more crushed. Her stats may have been low overall, but her magic was off the charts compared to anyone else in the class—much like his own.
Her skills, too, were anything but ordinary. Farming? Sure, it was a non-combat job, but the sheer number of abilities she had—so many tailored to making crops grow and thrive—was more than enough to make her one of the most powerful people in their world with just a bit of training.
Hajime's heart sank. Aiko-sensei's magic stat alone was far superior to his, and her job, though non-combat, would undoubtedly prove useful in ways Hajime couldn't even imagine. He'd expected something more grounded in reality, something he could relate to. But instead, all he could see was another situation where his hope of being "average" had been dashed in a matter of seconds.
Hajime's head lowered as his shoulders slumped, the weight of it all sinking in. His job wasn't just common—it was incredibly average, unremarkable, and practically useless in this dangerous world. And here was Aiko-sensei, with a farming job, possessing so many skills that her stats looked far more impressive than his.
Aiko-sensei, completely unaware of how much she'd unintentionally made things worse, looked at him with an expression full of hope. "What's wrong, Nagumo-kun!? You look so down all of a sudden!"
Hajime forced a weak smile, though it was nothing more than a ghost of a smile. He looked into Aiko-sensei's eyes, her innocent confusion showing how far apart their worlds were. She had no idea how he felt in this moment. How could she? She was just trying to help, and yet her bright personality and optimism only made him feel more hollow.
"Oh my, Ai-chan, that was the final nail in the coffin..." a voice suddenly whispered from the back.
It was Shizuku, her voice filled with sadness as she observed Hajime's rapidly falling spirit. She had watched Hajime ever since they were summoned to this world, and though she'd never really understood his sense of isolation, seeing him break like this hurt her.
"N-Nagumo-kun! Are you alright!?" Kaori exclaimed as she rushed to his side, her voice full of concern. Her eyes were wide, and she reached for his arm, wanting to comfort him but unsure how.
Hajime glanced up at her, feeling the weight of her worry pressing down on him. He could see the concern in her eyes, but it didn't change the crushing reality that surrounded him. Despite her attempts to help, nothing seemed to erase the gnawing feeling in his chest that he was, without a doubt, the weakest person in the class.
Aiko-sensei, still oblivious, continued to shake him lightly, trying to bring him back to the moment. "Nagumo-kun! Please, say something! Are you okay?"
But it was clear that Hajime had already shut down, and no amount of Aiko-sensei's well-meaning support could change that.
The students in the room watched the scene unfold with mixed expressions—some uneasy, some pitying, others simply lost in their own thoughts. Aiko-sensei, in her usual ditzy way, had managed to achieve her original goal of stopping the bullying, but it was evident that the damage had already been done.
Hajime stood there, a hollow smile on his face, as he thought about the long road ahead of him. The journey that had started with so much hope was now looking like an insurmountable challenge. Would anyone take him seriously, or was he destined to remain the outcast, the one with no place in this world of heroes?
The thought of Renji, the lone classmate who had been quiet up until now, lingered in his mind. Would he be the one to eventually stand by him? Or would he, too, look at Hajime the way the others did?
But for now, all Hajime could do was endure and survive. His path was clear, even if it was uncertain and filled with mockery.
The laughter rang out under the clear midday sun, echoing across the stone-paved courtyard. It was cruel and unrelenting, bouncing off the walls like a twisted chant of mockery. Hajime stood still, shoulders tense, the plate with his stats freshly handed back—his hopes crushed once again, his humiliation complete.
Captain Meld watched the scene with a frown, Kaori clenched her fists in frustration, and even Aiko-sensei's intervention, while momentarily effective, hadn't changed the mood. The class still whispered, smirked, snickered.
And then… the air shifted.
Not with magic.
Not with fanfare.
Just a quiet step on the stone courtyard floor.
All eyes turned as Renji Aikawa took a slow, deliberate stride forward from his place near the sparring racks. His black training jacket fluttered lightly in the breeze, and the sunlight cast a stark shadow across his face. Calm, collected, unreadable.
Back in Japan, Renji had always been the one people relied on—the guy who solved problems before anyone else even realized there was one. He wasn't loud, he didn't boast, and he never chased the spotlight. But when he spoke, people listened.
And now, in this foreign world where monsters roamed and magic coursed through the earth, that same presence had only intensified.
He stopped a few steps behind Hiyama and his lackeys.
"Hiyama," Renji said, voice low and crisp.
The laughter died instantly.
The boy turned, still smug—until he met Renji's eyes.
Renji didn't glare. He didn't even raise his voice. But there was something in his expression—composed, sharp, unforgiving—that made Hiyama's smirk falter.
"I don't think I heard right. You were laughing at him… for being average?"
Renji stepped forward. Just one step.
Hiyama immediately took one back.
"You keep acting like you're hot shit because your stats are higher than his," Renji continued, tilting his head slightly. "But all you've done since we got here is talk. Brag. Pick fights. You've never once shown skill, or courage, or leadership. Just noise."
One of the lackeys tried to step in. "Tch, shut up Aikawa. You think you're better than—?"
CRACK.
A gust of wind followed the flash of movement. Renji's fist collided with the side of the Hayama's jaw with clean, effortless precision. The boy collapsed in a heap—unconscious before he even hit the ground.
The courtyard froze.
Captain Meld blinked in surprise, but made no move to intervene.
Renji dusted off his hand without flinching. "That's for calling someone weak when your biggest achievement is being an asshole."
Hiyama gained consciousness holding jaws in pain looked at Renji, the fallen boy—sweat forming at his temples. "Y-You… your stats… they're…!"
"Higher than yours," Renji cut in smoothly. "Want to compare plates? Or do I have to embarrass you physically too?"
Renji leaned closer to Hayama, his voice just above a whisper now—but it rang through the air with weight.
"Let me make one thing clear. You lay another finger on Nagumo—or anyone else you think you can step on—and you're going to deal with me. And I promise you... I don't hold back."
He straightened up, brushing invisible dust from his uniform, then turned to Aiko-sensei.
"Apologies, Sensei. I know violence isn't condoned. But bullies don't respond to warnings. Only consequences."
Aiko opened her mouth to scold him, but hesitated. There was no arrogance in Renji's words. No outburst of anger. Just calm, composed resolve. She nodded silently.
The class was in shock. No one had expected this.
No one moved.
No one spoke.
Hajime looked on, eyes wide with disbelief.
Kaori covered her mouth to stifle a surprised gasp. Even Shizuku raised an eyebrow.
Renji turned slightly, speaking not just to Hiyama now—but to the class at large.
"This world's already dangerous enough without people like you dragging us down. If all you're good at is mocking people who are doing their best—stay out of the way."
He walked past Hajime, placing a hand briefly on his shoulder.
"You don't have to prove anything to them," he said under his breath. "But if you want to… I'll be watching."
Then he moved to the weapon rack, as if nothing had happened, and began checking the edge of a training blade—like the moment was already behind him.
But the courtyard remained silent.
Because everyone knew.
Renji Aikawa wasn't just dependable anymore.
He was terrifying.
And no one—no one—was going to mess with Hajime Nagumo while he was around.
To be continued