Ia Ris (?)
Morning dawned. Not the free, familiar morning I knew, but a strange one that clenched my heart and sent tension rippling through every inch of my body.
"Hoo... This is more nerve-wracking than a dungeon raid day."
The reason for all this tension? I had to head to work and persuade Ia Ris.
Ia Ris was the one S-rank awakener who'd treated me like an actual human being.
And I'd used the Hypnosis App on her once—only once.
Back then, she'd pretended to fall under hypnosis, and I'd bought her act completely, convinced the app was real.
Which meant Ia Ris knew it was fake but still played along, joining the others in their plot to socially destroy me.
But from everything I'd seen, Ia Ris wasn't the type. Unlike those bitches who lit up with murderous rage at the sight of me and lunged to beat me down, she was kind. Gentle, even.
Before meeting her, I'd assumed awakener ranks were inversely proportional to basic human decency.
She was incredible—someone with the power to crush others underfoot, yet she stood at eye level with them anyway.
It just didn't seem like a woman like that would roll up her sleeves to screw over a single F-rank like me and sign on for this nightmare scheme.
Of course, that was all wishful thinking on my part. Nothing was certain.
In fact, if I thought back to our first meeting, the odds were higher she'd side against me.
I closed my eyes and let the memory wash over me.
The day Ia Ris transferred to Liar's Trap, her casual question—"You're in the same class as Ska Rate?"—had caught me off guard. Without thinking, I'd spilled about our relationship.
Her eyes, which had seemed indifferent, sharpened. Then she flashed a sweet smile and extended her hand.
"Really? Childhood friends with Ska Rate? You? Hehe... I see. Then let's get along well, shall we?"
It was obvious: she was using me as a stepping stone to cozy up to Ska Rate. Her handshake offer wasn't aimed at me at all.
But back then, I hadn't gotten any help from Dr. Emme yet. Ska Rate's nonstop bullshit had left me mentally and physically wrecked, craving any scrap of human warmth.
So even knowing her gaze skipped right over me, I grabbed her hand anyway.
That bond with Ia Ris didn't wrap me in the warmth I needed. Instead, it planted false hope—"Maybe someday she'll share her leftover kindness with me?"—even as that warmth never truly touched me.
That's what I believed for the first three months after we met.
Then, after Liar's Trap's first S-rank dungeon raid with her and Ska Rate, things changed. She stopped asking about Ska Rate.
Instead, she started prying into me. Favorite foods. Hobbies. Why I'd joined Liar's Trap. Deeply personal stuff.
I had no idea why, but damn, it felt good. For the first time since joining the guild, someone actually gave a shit about me.
Ia Ris became the most comfortable person in the guild—the one I wanted to trust.
I wanted to believe the kindness she'd shown me over the past year and a half wasn't fake.
Today was the day that kindness would be proven true... or false.
"Eh, time's already this late?"
Lost in my thoughts, work time had snuck up on me. I took a deep breath and stepped out of the penthouse—still saddled with tens of billions in loans.
2. Ia Ris... please. Please don't say you're on the same side as those demons...!
Standing in front of the infirmary where Ia Ris waited, I squeezed my eyes shut, clasped my hands, and prayed.
My prayer was directed at her—the woman inside.
I was so mentally cornered that I clung to this utterly hopeless plea like a lifeline.
What if Ia Ris really is with those bitches? My heart hammered with dread.
If—just if—she'd sided with them to screw me over... then...
"No, no. Don't jump to conclusions, Paster. Nothing's set in stone. Yeah, it's likely, but not certain. Life doesn't always flow against what you want..."
"Hey, what the hell are you doing there?"
...Fuck.
A savage, razor-sharp voice sliced from behind me. The sound of a predator that made my legs buckle just from hearing it.
Why does my life always shit the bed like this?
Cursing my existence that veered exactly opposite my wishes, I turned to face the voice's owner.
"Hey, I'm asking—what are you doing here?"
The bitch demanding answers in that feral tone was Ska Rate—the absolute worst matchup of my life.
Not even an opponent, really. More like a natural predator. Or a goddamn disaster?
Whatever. She was beyond my pay grade.
Even when I thought the Hypnosis App was real, she was a handful. Now that I knew it was fake—and she'd schemed a century-long plot to ruin me—she was pure, unadulterated terror.
"Hey, I'm asking! What the fuck are you doing here?!"
Terror itself bellowed at me. It was horrifying.
But I'd come here to build a backer against her. So I clamped my mouth shut and invoked silence.
Ska Rate scowled, her eyes narrowing to axe blades as she glanced between me and the infirmary door.
"...Ha."
She scoffed in disbelief, then clammed up.
Instead, the corridor temperature spiked.
Heat rising meant she couldn't rein in her mana.
Ska Rate was so pissed she wasn't even trying to contain the mana pouring off her.
Why?! Why the sudden rage explosion?!
I wanted to ask for real, but her fury was an overwhelming wall. And it was all aimed at me.
Her eyes blazing, fangs bared, she growled like a beast.
"Hey... come with me a sec."
"Huh?"
Before I could respond, her iron grip clamped my wrist, and she stormed down the hall.
No resisting an S-rank's strength. I went along—dragged, really.
I could escape her seriously with Rabbit Hole, but it'd make shit worse, so no dice.
Her merciless tug led to the basement boiler room—a place no one ever visited.
The state-of-the-art mana stone boiler ran so stably, it needed zero maintenance. Unless a bomb hit the guild's machines directly, humans stayed away.
Click.
She even locked the door—already a ghost town—before releasing my wrist.
Gripped so viciously, a red handprint throbbed like a sprain.
As I massaged it with my other hand, Ska Rate crossed her arms and barked in high-pressure mode.
"That crazy bitch... no, what the fuck were you scheming with Ia Ris? Spill. Now."
Mana flooded from her core like daggers aimed at my throat.
She was a monster who could kill with aura alone.
Kidnapped-by-a-knife vibes, but no way I could spit the truth.
How do I say 'I figured out you're plotting to socially assassinate me, so I'm recruiting counter-power'? Fuck that.
Ska Rate had always sniffed out my lies like a bloodhound.
Nothing to say.
"What, cat got your tongue? Deaf? Wait—you planning some shit with her you can't tell me?"
Silence only fueled her. Rage in her eyes, she stalked closer.
Grab.
Collar snatched, shoved against the wall—no easy outs.
"Hey, you want to die? Didn't I warn you? Hide shit from me, and you're done."
She yanked my collar, cornering me completely. Killing intent laced her voice; her grip packed execution power.
"Speak! What were you gonna do with that psycho?!"
Her final roar shook the boiler room.
No answer here, and her eyes would roll back—god knows what then.
But I couldn't talk.
If she went lethal or swung, I'd bolt then. This setup screamed "victim"—even if I dipped, she'd have no comeback.
She knew I could vanish anytime I committed.
So no unfair beatdowns unless she snapped. Instead, team leader summons for "sparring"—legal agony via grapples only, no strikes. Prolonged hell. Pure evil.
Devil woman.
Anyway, not the point.
She clocked my silence, scoffed again in disbelief.
"Un-fucking-believable."
One corner of her mouth curled in that dog-shit smirk she flashed when dismissing me, then she unloaded facts.
"Hey, what—you think 'cause Ia Ris plays nice sometimes, you two got something? Know your place. You're bottom-barrel F-rank. Ia Ris? S-rank, like me. Normally, you wouldn't even glance her way."
Ska Rate's demonic hobby: whenever I built ties, she'd dismantle my reality point by point.
Thought peak rage meant skipping it today, but nope—composure regained, fact nuke incoming.
"No clue what bullshit you had planned with her, but one thing's crystal: whatever it is, she'll forget you the second you're gone. Off banging hotshots—talented high-rankers doing every filthy thing imaginable."
Yanked collar dragged her face inches away. Hot breath with every word, searing her taunts into my skull.
"To Ia Ris, you're a freakshow pet. Liar's Trap's lone F-rank. That's you. Even that 'benefactor' Dr. Emme? Same deal."
Her bullshit's genius evil: all true. Stuff I knew but dodged admitting—she rammed it home.
"Just stick with me. Come when called, obey orders, eyes on me only, depend on me alone. That's your Paster lane. Ability's decent; I'll put it to good use."
Fact assault capper: eternal slave threat.
But I wasn't self-esteem bankrupt enough to chuckle and kneel.
"H-hey, who knows? Work hard at my side, earn my nod... maybe 'Rate' tacks onto your name? Paster Rate?"
I tuned out her throwaway line, slyly slipping a hand into my pocket unnoticed.
Fingertips hit phone.
Knew the Hypnosis App was fake.
But half a year, it'd bailed me from spots like this.
Meaning: fake or not, high odds she'd play hypnotized.
Worst case? She sneers, "Ha, still buying this retard app? Dumbest fucker next to you gets a PhD easy." Then real escape.
Always having an out slashed hesitation big-time.
"Paster Rate... s-sounds... kinda nice..."
"Shut your trap and look!"
Teeth gritted, I whipped out the phone and shoved the Hypnosis App screen in her face.