Byeon glanced nervously toward the crowd cheering for Yuruki, desperate to figure out his next move. A sudden realization struck him: acquiring a follower or a disciple was a surefire way to farm points. Channeling the arrogance of every main character he'd ever read about, he plastered a cocky grin across his face.
"Hey, you there! The girl with the white-blonde hair," he called out, doing his best to project supreme confidence. "How would you like to be my disciple?"
Yuruki blinked, her gaze shifting seamlessly from Byeon to Alex. It took Alex a second to catch the silent hint, but she finally understood the absurdity of the situation.
"I see," Yuruki said, an amused, almost mocking smile playing on her lips. "So, you want a master and disciple relationship. Tell me, do you have the certification and title to back that up? Although, I suppose that's a problem in this archaic, non-technological world where such things are so easily faked."
Byeon's grin held steady. Despite the immense secondhand embarrassment he was radiating, he felt it was going perfectly. Relying on the tired tropes of manga, manhua, and manhwa was actually paying off.
Watching this unfold left Adam feeling profoundly unsettled. It reminded him of every cultivation manhua he had ever read, where the rules were always the exact same: power dictated everything. It determined your status, your dignity, and your inherent value as a living being. It annoyed him precisely because it mirrored the bleak reality of his past world—the inescapable truth that might makes right. Exhausted by the sheer weight of his own cynicism, Adam decided it was easier to simply do nothing.
Rehan... Adam's thoughts drifted inward. Can you at least subconsciously protect him?
A voice echoed back in his mind, sharp and probing. (You don't actually want to lift a finger to protect him, but you feel obligated, Adam? Seriously?)
I know... I know, Adam conceded mentally.
(I mean, if that's truly what you want...)
Meanwhile, Byeon was staring intensely at Adam, silently begging the white-haired bystander to step in and save him from this escalating situation.
Yuruki noticed the desperate look. She clasped her hands together, tilting her head at Byeon. "So? Is there anything you can do to prove yourself?"
What do you mean, prove?! Byeon panicked internally. You frustrating woman... I hate this! Isn't this supposed to be an isekai? Where is my overpowered cheat skill?! Come on, you white-haired side character! Do something!
Adam could practically feel the silent curses being hurled his way. Sighing heavily, he slowly raised his left hand, trying to conjure a solution. But the moment he reached for whatever meager power he possessed...
"Adam. I do not want my influence, nor my will, to be squandered on just anyone."
It was the Voice of Faraway...
The sound vibrated through the very core of Adam's being, an oppressive weight that felt like pure, suffocating nothingness enveloping his soul. In an instant, the world halted. Meaning ceased to exist. Time itself froze in absolute stillness.
"Everyone believes they are inherently special," the Voice of the Unknown continued, its tone vast, ancient, and indifferent. "They believe a different existence should simply love them just because they possess adoration. Just because they see they think they are also included."
As quickly as the supernatural pause had come, reality snapped back into motion.
Adam was left standing completely frozen, his left hand still awkwardly raised in the air like a statue.
Yuruki glanced over at him, her amusement replaced by genuine confusion. "Did you want to add something?"
Byeon was fraying at the edges. Beneath the cocky grin, he was just an ordinary guy ripped from a mundane life and thrust into an unfathomable reality. He was desperately clinging to the script of every isekai protagonist he'd ever read, because what else was he supposed to do? But the act was utterly exhausting. The initial adrenaline was quickly souring into a suffocating cocktail of anxiety and raw, unadulterated fear.
"So?" he managed to choke out, the smile twitching on his face. He wiped a clammy palm against his clothes, a cold sweat beading on his forehead.
Yuruki watched him, her expression a mix of mild pity and complete bewilderment as she tried to process the bizarre interaction. "I'm sorry, but I can't be your disciple," she stated flatly, cutting through the tension with pure logic. "I don't even know you. If you actually possess some sort of hidden insight or profound knowledge, you'd be better off just explaining it rather than posturing like this."
"Haha..." Byeon forced a hollow laugh, bringing a trembling hand to his chin in a desperate attempt to salvage his 'mysterious master' persona. "Well, you see..."
Then, the dam broke.
Screw it. The facade crumbled completely.
"I hate this! I give up!" Byeon threw his arms in the air, his voice cracking as the frustration boiled over. "What am I even supposed to do here?!"
The surrounding crowd fell dead silent. Dozens of eyes fixed on him, witnessing his humiliating meltdown in real-time.
Unfazed by his outburst, Yuruki simply tapped at a sleek, glowing interface that materialized in her hand—a stark, jarring contrast to the archaic environment around them.
"Well, you can wait," she replied smoothly, her eyes scanning her digital notes as if she were a middle manager rather than an adventurer. "You might be operating under the delusion that your capabilities are limitless right now, but reality is different. I'm actually developing a structured plan. We will be assigning people specific roles, assessing their actual capabilities through a set timeframe, running training courses, and eventually, administering standardized exams."
Standardized exams.
The words hit Byeon like a physical blow. He didn't get transported to a magical, dangerous new world just to take exams and be subjected to a corporate onboarding process.
Utterly ticked off, his face burning with a mix of shame and annoyance, he turned his back on her.
I'll just do it myself, he grumbled bitterly under his breath. Without another word, he shoved his way past the bewildered onlookers, storming away from the crowd and leaving the script behind.