Powerlessness
“Haa…”
Boredom.
It was an emotion I hadn’t felt this intensely since meeting Aen Arbel—a long time, really. But today, it hit me hard.
It was the second day of the Academy after classes started, the first with proper lessons. All the cadets were attending their sessions.
Everyone except me.
It wasn’t that I didn’t want to go.
Then why was I sitting here like this?
There were no classes or lectures I could attend.
Back in my first year… well, last year, before I entered this body, Shin Iheon had been the Academy’s infamous parachute kid.
He’d spent a year in Class A, which was way above his level, where he should’ve received top-tier education.
“Haa…”
But this hopeless idiot never attended a single class.
He’d somehow wormed his way into the spot for the best education despite his lacking skills, then skipped every lesson.
Okay, fine… that could happen. Maybe he just needed the prestige of being at the top of the Academy.
The real problem now was the snowball effect of Class A’s education system combined with that trash mindset.
Class A was for the Academy’s elite geniuses.
Instead of standard classes, it offered personalized education tailored to each cadet—from lessons to detailed curricula.
As years passed, Class A cadets grew noticeably stronger, and the Academy prepared new classes and curricula to match.
But me? I hadn’t attended a single class last year.
So there was no curriculum or classes prepared for this year’s me.
Sure, at first I thought they’d at least base something on my entrance data… but given this body’s flashy record, I quickly realized the Academy saw no point in wasting time on me.
“Sigh…”
Either way, sitting alone in an empty classroom was a waste of time.
Better to head to the Training Room and meditate.
The dorms where students attended classes and the Training Room were practically next door.
I moved as the thought hit me.
Standing up naturally raised my view, revealing the empty classroom.
Of course it’s empty. Everyone’s off at their personal lessons.
Pushing aside a twinge of loneliness, I opened the classroom door and stepped out.
It should’ve led to the hallway, but…
“Unbelievable…”
A faint heat brushed my skin instantly.
What entered my eyes wasn’t a hallway, but a village being devoured by flames.
A place I’d never seen before.
Yet it felt vaguely familiar.
“…Hot.”
Probably somewhere connected to me in my past life.
Of course, past-life connections didn’t matter now.
Whether they were or not, I had no memories of them.
“Nothing comes to mind.”
More precisely, when I tried to recall… something forcibly blocked it, clouding my mind like fog.
Not yet. It’s too soon.
A sensation telling me that.
I couldn’t dispel or push through the fog.
“…Tch.”
It felt off in every way, but I couldn’t obsess over one thing.
What mattered now was why I’d been moved here and where “here” was.
First answer: Transfer.
The Academy was a bizarre place harboring countless dungeons full of opportunities.
A Transfer was suddenly being sent to one of them…
Something like that, according to the Academy guidebook.
Honestly, I didn’t know much either.
I hadn’t cared.
Transfers were so rare that little was known.
The guidebook’s sparse info boiled down to two points.
Difficult. But the rewards are insanely high.
That was it.
“Phone’s…”
Dead, naturally.
“Sigh…”
No peaceful days since reincarnating.
“Well, whatever…”
If I had to go, I’d go.
“A dungeon, huh…”
The second important thing I’d noted.
Where was this? Answer: a Dungeon.
The classic kind with treasures, artifacts, gold, and jewels.
The issue? I didn’t know which one.
Normally, you researched dungeons thoroughly before entering.
With vast treasures came varying dangers and trials.
Some had such abstract trials they were hard to interpret.
Luckily, this one wasn’t abstract.
Clear goal: survival.
Which meant a threat to my life.
So far, just the heat—no other anomalies.
I hoped it’d end without incident.
‘Fat chance.’
From the center of the ruins, under a vaguely familiar tree, a man approached.
His face was hidden—deliberately obscured, impossible to perceive.
No reading his expression or emotions.
Just that he was a threat to my life.
Yet why?
I didn’t know who he was.
Not familiar at all.
But a inexplicable revulsion, disgust… and an unnaturally cold rage welled up inside me.
Rage cold enough to chill the flames’ heat across my body.
My mind raced to tear him apart, fueled by it.
But…
‘Frozen.’
My body wouldn’t move.
Not psychological freeze from pressure.
Literally frozen.
Like the first day in this world.
As if my body were taxidermied in place.
Meanwhile, the man closed in.
One step, two.
Suddenly, close enough for the sword at his waist to reach me.
One more step.
As his foot advanced, in an instant.
His hand moved.
Schwick.
‘Huh…?’
My view flipped.
Sky became ground.
Ground became sky.
A few seconds later.
Splat.
My severed head hit the ground.
Flames roared high.
Devouring countless homes, lighting the night.
Beside the blaze, piles of corpses still oozed blood.
Among them: the uncle who always packed my meals, the kid who trailed me, the bully who once apologized, people who’d shown respect and gratitude.
Before the corpses stood one person.
A little kid who once said he wanted to be like me.
Now grown, shaking blood from his sword, he greeted me.
In that instant.
From my sword’s tip, pooled blood dripping.
Splat.
The kid’s head tumbled amid swirling black ashes.
No one left in the village now.
In these ruins, just a still-lush tree and…
“Ha… haha… hahaha…”
A worthless wretch who’d lost even his own life.
Stab.
“Cough…”
Thrusting the sword into my own throat—no death.
Stab.
Again.
No death.
Stab. Stab. Stab…
No matter how many times, equal to that pile of dead.
No matter how silently I endured the pain.
I wouldn’t die.
No choice in a stolen life.
I lived.
“Those who live will live no matter what… those who die will die…”
Words I’d said to ease their worries.
Now stabbing back at me.
I, who failed to protect their lives, lived.
I was one who lived.
The village that trusted me, the kid who admired me—they died.
Yes, they were all ones who die.
The world the Quest decreed.
Yes, this was the world I had to create.
A massive realization.
With it, another truth dawned.
This world was twisted, wrong.
…A nauseating dream.
“Gasp… haa… haa…”
I woke, gasping ragged breaths.
My hand flew to my neck.
‘It’s attached…’
I hadn’t died.
…Why?
I’d clearly died.
Without resistance, without even perceiving the sword—dead.
Yet…
Dungeon: Cleared the Fourth.
『4』 and □□ automatically acquired.
“Huh…”
I couldn’t grasp the situation.
What was that dream?
The vivid emotions in it?
Nothing made sense.
Was that my past?
Then was that man in the dungeon… me?
What was this dungeon?
Was my Transfer no coincidence?
Countless questions from the incomprehensible.
“…Fuck.”
The same fog from the dungeon clouded my mind.
The same sensation.
Not yet.
This sticky fog blocked my thoughts, chiding me.
No matter the items gained.
No matter the strength.
No matter surviving.
Powerless.
Like that man in the dream.
Today’s me was powerless too.
…Fuck.