Chapter 26: Wondering

“A… A Mythical Rank?”

“Isn’t that the highest rank? That’s impossible.”

One of them even stood up from his chair and dropped to one knee, head bowed like a knight before royalty. “I always knew you were the best person to lead us. I swear my loyalty to you, Your Highness.”

Then all of them rose from their seats and bowed. down showing respect to their savior and the woman who will lead them to a better life.

’Idiots. Isn’t this a bit much?’ He sighed internally but joined them anyway, standing and offering a shallow bow.

The princess stood up and returned the gesture.

After that theatrical display, the meeting dragged on with bureaucratic inevitability… Assignments were discussed. Patrol schedules were adjusted. New authoritative positions were given to some of them.

And amidst it all, Ishiki found himself agreeing to thinks without thinking much, just to have this meeting end fast and leave this suffocating room.

Then… after what felt like a lifetime, the meeting ended.

And he slipped out as fast as he could, before anyone could corner him with probing questions or recruitment speeches or worse, friendly conversation.

Stepping outside the school building, he let out a heavy sigh. ’Glad I never volunteered to be a government pawn. That meeting was torture.’

He navigated through the tents and gave a quick glance to the gate. The guards were bringing in three more people, two of them battered and hollow-eyed, looking like they had lost all hope and were just going through motions until death caught up.

He lowered his gaze and moved on. It was not his problem.

After passing through the garden he went to the dorm building and found the new room he was assigned. There was an identity checking machine mounted beside the door, but it had long since been pried open and so the gate could be used without the identity cards of the teachers who actually owned these rooms.

He slid open the iron door with a little bit of problem, but it was not too difficult. The fact that he was more stronger than he used to be, because of the system helped a lot.

The inside was… warm and kind of comforting. There was a sleeping bag, because the beds were locked and couldn’t be opened. Then there was a kitchen, a bathroom a TV which was useless, because there were no signals.

The air conditioner and pretty much everything here was… just a lost cause, without electricity and signals, everything was just a scrap of metal and plastic.

But it was still more than he’d had this morning, which said everything about how catastrophically the world had fallen.

He lowered himself onto the sofa, letting his body sink into cushions that probably hadn’t been touched in over a month. Dust puffed up around him.

“Hell. I don’t even have my phone anymore.”

The loss hit him suddenly—not the device itself, but what it represented. Connections. Entertainment. The ability to waste time on meaningless things when survival wasn’t immediately demanding attention.

Then he glanced through the window on the other edge of the room and left. Instead of staying in his room he climbed the stairs which was hard work, since the elevators didn’t work. After climbing up three floors, he finally reached the roof.

Pushing through a metal door, he stepped out and as soon as he did, strong wind hit him. It was a bit cold and carried the scent of fresh air. He closed his eyes and let it hit him, it was… refreshing.

Glancing up at the clouds he chuckled. ’Maybe, I will experience rain before seeing the moon.’

The Irony wasn’t lost on him.

He had never experienced actual rain. In Neo-Tokyo’s lower sectors, they had artificial precipitation systems that misted water over designated areas on schedules. He’d only seen true rain from a distance—watching it fall over the ocean from the city’s edge, water droplets streaming the sky itself, like tears.

He walked to the roof’s edge, gripping the safety railing and stared out at the ruined cityscape. Broken buildings stretched in every direction, monuments to human ambition reduced to rubble.

Somewhere out there, his mother might still be alive. Or she might be ash. Or worse—one of those shambling Xenons.

He gritted his teeth, trying to focus on other things.

The princess invaded his mind instead, an unwelcome guest but at least a distraction from darker possibilities.

Now that he’d met her in person, she was… strange. Ambitious, certainly. Throughout that entire meeting, he’d watched her trying so hard to appear perfect. Strong and Unshakeable. The flawless leader who survived hell and returned ready to guide humanity through darkness.

He smirked despite himself. ’What does she think she is? “My trial was easy”—sure. She can’t even admit she suffered. For what? Pride? To maintain people’s faith? To prove she’s still untouchable?’

The words came out before he could stop them. “She’s probably drowning behind that smile.” He laughed. “But how can a princess admit she’s just a scared kid who doesn’t know how to process any of this?”

His expression softened. “Just like me, Except I am honest to myself.”

“Screw it,” he said aloud, because the wind would carry his words away and nobody would hear.

’I don’t even know if I hate her or pity her.’

He sighed and straightened, rolling his shoulders against the tension that had built there during the meeting. Tomorrow he would be busy.

He accepted the hunting party assignment, going into hostile territory to scavenge supplies, risking death for the camp’s survival.

Not that he had any noble feelings about saving people or playing hero. He just wanted to get stronger. Survival in this ruined world required power, and power required risk.

Simple mathematics.

Of course, there was no normal life left to return to. But being weak would be a sin worse than death.

And that wasn’t even the worst part.

He didn’t know how to use his abilities. At all.

There was [Soul Archive]—his Exclusive skill that supposedly chained the consciousness of the slain. Whatever that actually meant in practice remained a mystery.

Then there was [Ghost Blade]—the Epic skill card he’d inherited from… somewhere. Except he had never summoned it.

Tomorrow he’d walk into combat completely unprepared, armed with powers he didn’t understand, surrounded by Players who assumed he was competent because he’d survived his trial.

’This is going to end badly.’

At least he knew he was doomed. That was more than most people could say.

The wind picked up again, colder now, and Ishiki stayed on the roof watching clouds race toward some destination only they could sense.

Wondering if his mother was looking at the same sky somewhere, hoping he was alive.

Wondering if the princess ever took off that perfect smile when she was alone, or if she’d worn it so long it had fused to her face like a curse.

Wondering if tomorrow would be his last day?

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