This World Is Not About Survival of the Fittest, You Crazy Bastards!!!
This world is not about survival of the fittest, damn it!!! I only went around beating up the bad guys. The evil organizations that appeared in the original story. The ones who never showed up in it but were notorious for being scum anyway. Hypocrites who acted virtuous while plotting vile schemes behind the scenes. I simply tracked them down to test the power I possessed. “I want to serve the Count as my big brother!” Why the hell do all the bad guys look at me favorably? If I beat them senseless, they should hate me! This world is not about the strong preying on the weak, you insane bastards!!! Rin Emesh! I’m talking about you, you selective masochist!!!!
Why is this happening? Shouldn’t they normally be boiling with hatred and terrified the moment they meet me? No. This guy might simply be too naive. He doesn’t even know who I am. To a thug, the reason for the fight doesn’t matter—what matters is that you go around fighting at all. In short, anyone who beats people up belongs to the same category. He sees the world in such simplistic terms. Still, if I had looked like an easy mark, wouldn’t he have tried to establish a hierarchy like the others said?
“While you’re at the academy, I will serve you with utmost devotion. If there’s anyone you dislike, at any time—”
“Shut up.”
“…Pardon?”
In that case, I needed to correct that perception thoroughly. I would show him that I do not resort to meaningless violence. The cider I couldn’t drink in the original story—I’d taste it now.
“I’ve listened long enough. You speak without any sense of proportion. If there’s someone I dislike, what? You want to serve me as your big brother? What exactly do you take me for?”
“B-but…”
“Your delusions go too far. Do you think the Count of Colwen is some common street thug?”
Fear flooded Tarle Maerland’s face as he knelt. Though I had ruined the family estate, I was still the legitimate Count. Not a noble’s child, but a true noble with an official title. If the difference in status was too vast, it could be ignored—but having the head of a house disregarded gave considerable justification for action.
“N-no! I never meant it that way…!”
Tarle’s complexion turned deathly pale. The reason he knelt shifted from loyalty to apology. Good. Very good. Besides, I had one more solid justification to strike at him.
“You must have read the notice I wrote in this notebook before speaking to us. Correct?”
“Y-yes, I did!”
“And yet you still said such nonsense to me?”
“B-but…!”
“But?”
The notice Melina had written for me, stating that I sought friendly relations. He had probably interpreted it as a desire to gather the same kind of thugs. But words always carry deeper meaning. The fault lay with the one who misinterpreted them.
“That was a statement clarifying the attitude I intend to take at this academy. Knowing that, you still dared speak so rudely to me?”
“Uh… yes…?”
“This is a fine opportunity. Read aloud exactly what is written there.”
Those farther away might not be able to see it. And to ease this frozen atmosphere even slightly while conveying my mature, friendly image.
Tarle stood up, trembling, and read the words from the notebook.
If anyone wishes to experience death, I shall accept your challenge at any time….
A chill ran down my spine. The sound of my eyes rolling in their sockets. Either the guy in front of me had eaten something wrong, or everything I was seeing was a hallucination. Or perhaps Melina’s six-year-long revenge plot was slowly beginning.
Mel?
I’m sorry. It was because of the hallucination.
So it was a hallucination. Then there’s nothing to be done. I’m screwed.
“I wondered what you wrote, but you really are just a scary person, huh?”
“Telling people to challenge you if they want to die… Isn’t that even more terrifying?”
“What kind of mindset does someone need to write something like that and show it off proudly?”
“Um… then maybe I was right…”
Exactly. If it’s written that way, even I have nothing to say. “Write your name if you want to die.” This isn’t even thug behavior—this is straight-up gangster shit.
“Lord Luke…?”
Everyone in the class was staring only at me. Glancing around, it looked like students from other classes had come to watch too. Why were the professors just standing there without intervening? Couldn’t they help me out?
What should I do? The correct answer was obvious.
Ah, it seems my maid secretly wrote something strange without my knowledge. I apologize.
Just say that honestly and be done with it. Yes, that’s what I should do.
“You foolish bastard. It means if you don’t want to die, don’t speak rudely to me.”
Don’t maintain the concept in a situation like this, you crazy idiot!!!
No. For the sake of my future plans, Luke Colwen’s dignity must be preserved. I may become a madman, but I cannot become a half-assed one! But if I start firing in all directions, what then?! I’ve already become an outcast!! Are friends important right now? Make them after you prevent the bad endings!
“I’m sorry, but my master has stated he has no intention of forming friendships at the academy. If you truly wish to do so, he said you should fight and force him to submit.”
“W-what!”
You—why are you suddenly doing this! Of course you have more than enough reason to screw me over. But you can’t do this right now!!! Are you going to punish me? Make me stand facing the wall with my hands raised?
“…If you understood, then get lost. The sight of you is unpleasant.”
“Ugh…!”
“Since my master might aim for your back in a fit of anger, I suggest you leave the classroom entirely.”
Why the hell would I do something like that?! I hate violence!!!
Still… this is nice. This guy has to leave and interfere with Eres’s arrival.
“Did you not hear Mel? She said to get out before I kill you.”
“Huh? For real?”
“It was merciful advice, Mel.”
Tarle hung his head, his fists shaking. Though their statuses differed, this was probably the first time he had been so thoroughly disregarded by a peer he had just met.
“Ugh… ugh…!”
Even so, he wouldn’t attack me. No matter how much of a thug he was, as a noble he would know when to step forward and when to stay back.
“You son of a bitch! Don’t get cocky just because I gave you some respect!”
Huh?
He’s listening to this? Is he sane?
“Telling me to get out? There’s a limit to how much you can disrespect someone. Do you even know who I am?!”
I know very well. That’s exactly why I’m completely ignoring you. He couldn’t seriously think the Maerland heir ranked higher than the Count of Colwen. He was simply blinded by rage and spouting whatever came to mind.
What are you going to do? You provoked him unnecessarily and now the fire’s properly lit.
You’re the one who provoked him.
Provocation? I merely gave merciful advice.
The guy who had been surprised when I accepted it…
“Stop whispering to each other and look at me! Don’t ignore me!”
“Tarle drew his sword!”
“S-shouldn’t we stop that?”
“Student Tarle! Stop this at once and return to your seat! I will continue with the class explanation—”
“Everyone shut up! Luke Colwen, did you think you could humiliate me and get away with it?!”
Ignoring even the professor’s words, Tarle pointed his sword at me and approached again. Honestly, I was impressed. As expected of the character in charge of providing frustration in Endless Fantasia.
“Shall I step aside?”
“No. Stay in your seat.”
“Ha! You still don’t want to fight? I thought you were a real man, but you’re just a kid. I should have realized when I saw you dragging a maid to the academy.”
To think he was this—
“No, she’s not a maid, she’s his lover—”
To think he was this stupid.
“……”
“Why aren’t you saying anything? Do something.”
Squeeze.
Tarle’s sword pressed against my neck. Or rather, my neck pressed against his sword.
“The place where your sword touches. Beneath that skin lies the carotid artery. If it gets slashed, even I would die.”
“W-what…”
“If you want to fight me, I’ll grant you the first move. Strike anywhere you like. After that, if you don’t want to be beaten to death by me, you’ll have to pierce either my throat or my heart.”
Well. I was confident I’d be fine no matter where he cut me. But Tarle, whose head had cooled, lacked the confidence to cut anywhere at all.
“Why are you hesitating? Why don’t you move?”
“I-I…!”
“You talk about risking your life but then run away. You want to use violence but don’t want to bear the sin or responsibility. You acted tough, but you’re just a kid after all.”
“A kid…?!”
Heat returned to Tarle’s face, which had been turning pale. Rising, falling, rising again. His eyes rolled back as if the alternating currents of rage and fear had driven him mad.
“I am Tarle Maerland!! Don’t look down on meeee!!”
He raised the hand holding the sword high in a diagonal arc and swung it down toward my neck.
“Kyaaaak!”
With someone’s scream, the blade stopped at 40 centimeters. When the professor raised his staff, 30 centimeters. When the nearest people began rushing forward, 25 centimeters. And then, pathetically, the sword halted at 24 centimeters.
“I… I-I…!”
“You can’t even stop right before the strike. Look, there’s still a long way to my neck.”
“Hiiik, ugh…!”
In the end, he was just a thug lacking true spirit. The trash in Babbage had tried to stab my neck without hesitation. They hadn’t succeeded, though.
“This is the limit of your level.”
“S-shut up! I only held back because you’re a Count! If we were on equal footing—”
“Equal? That’s hilarious.”
Crunch!
I grabbed Tarle’s sword with my bare hand and pressed it against my own neck.
“W-what are you—”
“You and I.”
The sword didn’t tremble at all as I brought it to my neck. Tarle’s resistance, which looked like he was squeezing out every last drop of strength, didn’t lessen in the slightest.
“No matter what positions we hold.”
Tarle’s face was now completely contorted in despair. I glared at him and pressed the blade against my neck, which was harder than steel.
“We are not equal.”
Crack.
As cracks began to form on the sword, I decided to let him go. If it broke, cleaning up would be a hassle. He could handle the aftermath himself—if he still had the presence of mind to do so.
“H-how… with your n-neck…”
Was I too harsh? If his spirit completely shattered, it would be troublesome. He still had to go interfere with Eres right away. But I couldn’t directly order him to harass her…
“Pathetic fool. Stick to following and tormenting those weaker and more insignificant than yourself, as befits your station.”
This should do it. Our Eres possessed the most insignificant bloodline in the entire academy. Now I just had to hope this thug would find her as he did in the original story.
“……Ah, aaaaah…! Aaaaaagh!!”
Tarle stood frozen, letting out dazed noises, then bolted out of the classroom. Good. One problem solved.
And then.
“Monster…”
“Breaking a sword with his neck… is that even human…?”
“So the immortal rumors were true…”
Yep. Complete outcast status confirmed! From now on, I’d be hated by both the decent students and the vicious thugs. Academy life where everyone was my enemy!
“…Mel.”
“A splendid performance, Master. You have shown everyone exactly who Luke Colwen is.”
“Cut the nonsense. Why did you write something like that?”
“If you want to die, come at me.” She must have originally suggested a phrase for recruiting friends. If it had been written that way, this troublesome situation wouldn’t have happened…
“Someone who will have to do countless hate-worthy things from now on, trying to make friends? I simply felt sorry for any decent person who might become your friend.”
“…I suppose that’s true.”
I would soon have to meet Eres and fight her over the safety of the little sister I had kidnapped. Making friends could wait until everything was over. Or perhaps the trauma of a lonely college life had made me think strangely.
“Or was it because of the hallucination?”
“Right. It must have been the hallucination.”
The hallucination excuse. It was both my pathetic excuse and her merciful forgiveness.
“Ahem. Then, though it’s late, I shall begin the orientation.”
Wait a second. The fact that the professor was here meant it was already too late to make Eres late…?
“Damn it… damn it…!”
Somewhere on the academy grounds, Tarle was weeping and sobbing from the most despairing sense of defeat he had ever felt in his life.
“Excuse me, if it’s all right, could I ask for directions?”
And there was the protagonist, who had gotten herself lost and ended up late without anyone in particular interfering.