The humid evening air still clung to Motohama as he huddled in the shadows beneath the pedestrian bridge. His world had shrunk to the glowing blue panel of the Gacha System before his eyes.
"[QUEST: ASSIST THE PROTAGONIST]" it blared. Below it, a shimmering promise: "[REWARD: 1x RANK 3 GACHA TICKET]."
His breath hitched. A Rank 3 ticket. He'd only seen Rank 1s before. A Rank 3 was significant; it could be a true game-changer. He imagined pulling something incredible, gaining a real edge in this terrifying new reality.
But then, cold logic slammed into him.
[Assist the protagonist]
Issei Hyoudou was about to be killed by a Fallen Angel, Raynare. His mind flashed back to the goblin dungeon, the frantic struggle for survival. He was still weak, still new to this. Facing a supernatural entity felt like signing his own death warrant. He wasn't some hero. Besides, his earthbending felt woefully inadequate against a bunch of fallen angels.
A chill ran down his spine. The thought of dying again, of being snuffed out before he'd even truly started his second chance, sent a memory of what it feels like to die.
'What if I end up reborn as a Devil, and get bound to Rias like he did. That was a fate I absolutely wanted to avoid. My newfound life was too precious to gamble on someone else's fate even if the rewards are tempting'
The allure of the Rank 3 ticket dimmed, overshadowed by the stark terror of self-preservation. His fists tightened. He wasn't a hero. He was not bound to save someone just because he was tasked with it. With a heavy clench in his chest, he forced his finger to select "I REFUSE!"
The panel flickered, then faded, leaving behind only the darkness of the night and a hollow ache in his mind on passing this opportunity. The silence felt deafening, amplifying the echoes of his choice. He had refused power, refused a path to strength, all out of fear. A cold, nagging regret began to burrow into his mind, an insidious whisper reminding him of what he'd just given up. He shook his head, pushing it down.
'I had to get strong first. There will be a lot of these opportunities coming for me later'
He then made his way back to Motohama's house, his disheveled state a testament to his ordeal. He needed a believable story. A fall during club activities. Yes, that would work.
. . .
The next day, after the torturous hours of school, he wasted no time and left like his father, who went out for buying some milk.
The events of the previous night, the chilling glimpse into the dangers of this world, the stark refusal of the quest. It all fueled a desperate, burning need to train. He practically ran to the forest, his heart blazing with a newfound urgency and hunger to be stronger.
He bypassed the popular paths, venturing deeper until he found a secluded clearing. He scanned the area, listening for any rustle, any distant voices. He needed absolute solitude. This was his personal space.
He immediately began to rigorously practice his Earthbending. The lessons from the Goblin's Lair were burned into his memory; precision over brute force, control in proper usage of skills, and creative applications. He closed his eyes, centering himself, breathing deeply.
He focused on the subtle vibrations of the earth beneath his worn sneakers, feeling its steady, deep hum. He extended his will with a slow, deliberate release of breath.
He started with the basics, refining his control to the best.
Then he moved to practical applications. He imagined an enemy charging, and with a subtle shift of his weight, caused a barely perceptible rise in the ground, a trip hazard. The dirt rippled, forming a fleeting ridge before sinking back into place. He practiced this over and over, making the movement smaller, faster, less noticeable.
Next, disarming. He picked up a fallen branch. He extended his perception to the earth beneath it, and with a focused tremor, made the ground vibrate violently. The branch shuddered, then clattered to the dirt. He tried it again, visualizing a weapon, then a target's grip. Vibrate. Not a big quake, just enough to loosen a hold. He aimed for throwing his enemies off balance, a surprise attack as they wouldn't expect.
He experimented with temporary, localized shields. He imagined a small, focused impact, then drew up a thin, dense layer of compressed dirt to deflect a blow. It wasn't a solid wall, but a fleeting, dynamic barrier that rose and fell with his will.
The Cloranthy Ring proved to be an absolute game-changer.
Its subtle warmth of comforting presence, constantly replenished his stamina. The familiar burn in his muscles, the crushing exhaustion he'd felt after the dungeon, was replaced by a manageable, almost pleasant fatigue.
'I feel like I can keep going at it forever'
He even picked up the Goblin Chieftain's Crude Club. Its unwieldy weight was a surprising contrast to his more refined earthbending. He swung it clumsily at first. But then, he started to think: How could I combine this? He imagined embedding the club in a larger chunk of rock, making it a truly formidable, earth-shattering hammer. Hours melted away as he pushed his limits, the sun dipping lower, casting long shadows. He felt his connection to the earth deepen with each successful maneuver, a growing confidence blooming within him.
The forest felt like an extension of his own power.
. . .
As evening fully descended, Motohama was drenched in sweat. Yet, thanks to the Cloranthy Ring, the debilitating exhaustion was nowhere within him.
He felt only a manageable tiredness, a pleasant ache in his muscles. He collapsed onto a mossy patch, breathing heavily but steadily, a sense of accomplishment warming him.
He took a moment to rest, his gaze sweeping across the trees, the distant city lights twinkling. His mind kept drifting back to Issei's impending fate, to the chilling reality he had chosen to ignore.
'If Issei who hasn't awakened his sacred gear, can be targeted by Fallen Angels, then what about me? I have this power now… that can make me a target as well, doesn't it?'
He realized, with chilling clarity, that he couldn't act solo indefinitely. He needed to become significantly stronger, strong enough to face threats far beyond goblins. And perhaps more importantly, he needed to find allies. The thought of facing more powerful threats alone was stupid, which only morons would think of.
Just as he was pondering his next steps, a piercing, desperate scream echoed from an abandoned house further up the hill, a sound that tore through the quiet evening like a truck crashing against a bored teen.
It was a cry of pure terror, undeniably human.
Immediately, the familiar blue panel of the Gacha System materialized before him, bathing the clearing in an blue light.
[QUEST: ELIMINATE STRAY DEVIL]
[ REWARD : 1 RANK 2 GACHA TICKET]