Seeing Through the Foam - 4
Ruin was full of hype. Everyone around him propped him up, and yeah, he had been genuinely talented once. But above all, the Magic Tower backing gave this guy an absurd amount of inflated value.
In the novel's late stages, Ruin rises to the ranks of the strongest. But that's just the late-game story. Right now, this Ruin was a guy who couldn't do shit.
He stirred up pointless conflicts, blew them out of proportion, and his shitty personality made everyone tiptoe around him. If he had the skills to back up the hype, fine—but in my eyes, Ruin was nothing more than a green-slimed algae head, no better, no worse.
He didn't have the mana to rain meteors on the earth like the Tower Lord, nor did he command hundreds of summons like Darbav. He had the talent to become a grand mage, sure, but personality-wise and skill-wise? He was sorely lacking.
And to top it off, he made the novel's heroine cry... Now he'd gone down a path of no return.
I had my own standards. As a reader who loved the novel, who binge-read 'The Strongest at the Academy Love Me' to the end, a possessor deeply invested in the plot—I still drew a clear line.
Since possessing this body, I'd only intervened in things that could derail the story a handful of times. Like changing the future of someone fated to blacken into a major villain, or straight-up killing them. The one that stuck out was looking after that little girl who was turning into an apostle.
It was all for my comfy unemployed life. Their existence posed a real threat to my peace. And it was also out of consideration for easing the protagonists' hardships.
As long as they didn't cross those three lines, I left the novel's plot untouched as much as possible. That was my role as reader and possessor.
One: Lady Olivia's safety. Two: Threats to my peaceful life. Three: Making Yuria cry.
Today, Ruin crossed two of them. From now on, his existence would threaten my happy unemployed days.
Up till now, Ruin had never truly felt a proper gap in power. He'd never met a foe he couldn't beat no matter what. Even back on Hamel Mountain, facing that Archbishop of Despair Ballack, he'd probably deluded himself into thinking he could mix it up.
In the novel, Ruin always had that chuunibyou mindset. 'If I fight for real, I can win.' What bullshit. Losing because you didn't fight seriously is just an excuse to save your pride.
But the novel always took Ruin's side. In rematches against defeated foes, he'd awaken or learn new magic and win. Plus, as a romance fantasy, the male leads had to be overwhelmingly strong, so Ruin racked up more wins than losses.
I figured there was justification for his shallow thinking. But now, even that understanding was wearing thin.
He made my friend cry. He disrupted my happy unemployed life. No more consideration for him.
Ruin was weaker than I knew. If anything, just a smidge better than the average academy student. You couldn't feel an overwhelming skill gap.
I thought it might be better to take his destined opportunities and raise someone new instead. That's how mediocre he was.
I knew exactly what he was banking on to act so cocky. His thoughts were simple as hell.
So, I planned to shatter his foundation. If he holds out, he'll keep his sub-male-lead spot. If not, he'll sink into his own world and stagnate.
I'll make him face the fact that he's not as great as he thinks. That'll crumble his core.
It was a way to steer the novel better—and vent my frustration.
"What?"
Ruin let out a disbelieving scoff, tilting his head.
"What do you mean I can't do anything? I could kill you right now."
I nodded at his cute provocation.
"Go ahead."
"Hey..."
"You can't, right?"
"..."
"You don't have the confidence, do you? You've never beaten me, and getting wrecked in front of all these people scares you."
"You're... awfully cocky today."
"Isn't it true? You're still hesitating, wondering if you can even win."
Ruin ground his teeth, glaring at me.
"Shut up."
"No thanks."
"Don't flap your loose lips."
"Whoa, scary."
Ruin's pride was like a massive city wall. Propped up by the Magic Tower, no doubt. He was talented, sure, but he had that reliable backing to lean on. Tower Lord's disciple, prodigious magic talent—everyone praised and elevated him. No wonder he couldn't handle criticism.
Honestly, Ruin and I had no business being arrogant. Slum orphans, picked up by the rich and living cushy lives—we had no right to look down on others.
I started poking at his reverse scale.
"But isn't what I said spot on? You can't do jack shit, Ruin."
"And you're so great?"
"Yeah, I am. That's why the academy sent a letter for my reinstatement, right? You delivered it—you know."
"Bullshit. Just pity for a loser like you."
"Being pitiable is a talent too."
Ruin sighed deeply at my unyielding retorts. Frustrating, huh? Tough shit. I didn't care about the algae-head sub-lead's feelings.
"Ah... Come to think of it, the Magic Tower's just like you. Harboring imperial rebels and murderers, churning out shitty-personality mages, causing endless crap."
"..."
"One dove into black magic beyond return, another lets that criminal walk free... Is the Tower just that fucked?"
"Shut your mouth before I kill you."
"Not insulting the Tower—just stating facts."
"Shut... up."
"I'm talking. Listen quietly."
Being polite made him climb all over me—cocky bastard. Ruin spat back from his boiling dantian.
"Then what about Desmont...!"
"I admit our lady's shortcomings. But isn't the Tower the same?"
"Don't talk shit. How's a puny noble house like the Tower?"
"If Desmont's a puny noble house, is the imperial family a mansion with a big yard?"
"..."
"Think before you speak."
Personally, I didn't think badly of the Magic Tower. It produced great mages and pushed magic forward as a massive research hub. But the mages living there? I had mixed feelings.
Chosen-people complex. Jerking off to being "selected," halting progress, just bullying newcomers. I hated that toxic cycle.
Just my opinion, nothing to dwell on. The Tower was great, but Ruin wasn't.
I blurted without filter.
"What the hell can you even do?"
"Don't pick fights."
"Let's think rationally."
I tapped my temple, implanting the concept of thought into Ruin.
"All you're good at is slinging a bit of magic. Overwhelming skill? Nah."
"What else? Shitty personality, pissing off the Tower Lord, stirring scandals that tank the Tower's image. You're just a barking dog."
"I said shut up."
"Oh, and."
I glanced at the balcony where Yuria had fled, pointing out his biggest stain.
"Isn't it hilarious you're snapping at her? Who the fuck are you to tell someone to take off their dress?"
"..."
"You two close?"
No answer from Ruin.
"Are you?"
"..."
"Not even friends, and you throw a fit? I heard it all—my ears are sharp. Real fucking shitty."
"..."
"If I wore the same shirt as you and told you to change, you'd feel great?"
"There was a reason, fucker."
"Then strip. I got reasons too."
I flashed a cruel smile at him.
"Kidding."
Ruin's face flushed red, ready to explode. His mana surged wildly; he couldn't contain the rage, clenching and unclenching his fists.
Guess that's enough for today.
I wanted to keep going, but didn't want to leave the person waiting on the terrace alone.
Before heading to the balcony, I looked at Ruin, tossing a subtle hint to make him reflect on his actions.
"Suppose, just suppose—the one who ran to the balcony was Yuria. How'd that feel?"
"What?"
"Pretty shitty, right? If I were her, any goodwill would vanish... Just curious about your thoughts."
"That ain't happening. Chew on shit."
I cut him off with a smile.
"Sounds too fun."
I'm a bad guy. Maybe worse than Ruin. Once I decide, I don't waver easily, and I enjoy tormenting people insidiously.
Mustering an evil lady must've rubbed off. No tasty bait, yet he bit hard. I smiled watching him.
"I'm not doing shit."
"Won't clear up misunderstandings, won't help with whatever befalls you next."
"What're you on about? Like you've ever helped."
"Puhaha! Yeah, from your view."
I clasped hands behind my back, strolling leisurely.
"A lot's gonna change from now on. Those ridiculously easy fixes, lucky breaks—might not come anymore."
"What the hell?"
"Talking bullshit."
"Ha."
"But I'm really curious how things'll shift between Yuria and you."
I stepped right up to him.
"Didn't notice anything off?"
"What?"
"That woman's voice fleeing to the balcony. Her actions. Perfume scent. Hair color. No weird vibes?"
"..."
"Think hard. Savor what you missed—and what's coming next."
Suddenly, a sharp voice from behind.
"Shut up! You butler serving that evil bitch—don't insult Ruin!"
A girl, clearly Ruin's fangirl, clutched her dress hem, yelling at me. Face beet-red with fury.
I smiled sweetly back.
"Shut it."
"...Hic."
"I'm in a very bad mood right now."
Silence fell as mediators approached one by one. Student Council President Shartia. Mikhail. The crown prince. Other key side characters grabbing Ruin's shoulders.
I shrugged with a grin.
"Getting mad already is bad. It's just starting—don't collapse from high blood pressure."
"Let go. I'm killing that fucker today."
"Hmm..."
As I opened my mouth, a chilling voice from behind. A boy's high-pitched tone.
"Stop."
Mikhail stood behind me, eyes sharp. Hand on his sword hilt, ready to draw. He'd brought it under discipline committee authority, now threatening a poor civilian.
I raised my hands in surrender.
Mikhail sighed heavily, shaking his head.
"Get lost. I don't wanna see your face for a while."
"I don't wanna see yours either, but if I leave now, I'll miss something fun."
"What?"
I glanced at the massive clock on the ballroom wall, smirking mysteriously.
18:30. Thirty minutes before the heretics' assault.
I didn't wanna miss the show.