The breaking was no longer something that only happened to others…
It began to approach him.
Slowly.
Quietly.
As if the world… was staring back at him.
After the professor incident…
It wasn't just the university that changed. It was the way he looked at everything. Sounds became clearer. Gazes… deeper. And the words above people's heads were no longer just attributes. They became… silent confessions.
But this time…
He didn't look at strangers. Rather… he looked at those who were close.
At home…
He sat at the table. His mother was across from him, serving food as she always did. She was smiling, asking if his day had been good. The same voice. The same tenderness. The same details he had lived with for years.
But…
Above her head… the word did not disappear.
**"Regret"**
It didn't change. It didn't weaken. In fact, it became… clearer.
He stared at her for a long time. Too long. So long that she stopped.
"Is something wrong?" she asked.
He shook his head slowly. "No…"
But inside, he said: *"You too…?"*
In that moment… he didn't feel sadness. Nor anger. But something much colder. Something like… a re-evaluation.
The next day…
He sat with his friends. The same table. The same laughter. The same trivial conversations.
But this time… he didn't participate. He only… watched.
Above the first: **"Self-interest"**
The second: **"Jealousy"**
The third: **"Pretense"**
They laughed. They talked. They called his name as if nothing had changed.
But he… saw everything.
*"How many times did you laugh with me… without meaning it?"*
*"How many times did you look at me… as an opportunity?"*
*"How many times… was I just a temporary option?"*
One of them noticed his silence. "Why are you so quiet?"
He raised his gaze slowly. "Thinking."
"About what?"
He paused for a moment, then said: "About people."
One of them laughed: "Man, drop the philosophy."
He smiled. But not for them. Rather… for himself.
In that moment, one of his friends spoke. His tone was slightly different. Quieter. More honest… perhaps.
"Look…" He looked at him. "I don't know what's been going on with you lately… but what you're doing…" He paused. "It's going to make you lose a lot of people."
Silence fell. Everyone looked at him, waiting for his response.
But he didn't speak immediately. Instead… he thought.
*"Lose?"*
Then… he smiled. A calm, cold smile.
"That's a good thing."
Their expressions changed. "A good thing?"
He tilted his head slightly and looked at them… not as friends, but as something else.
"A smart person…" he said quietly, "doesn't keep everything." He stopped for a moment, then continued: "They get rid of what has no value."
The atmosphere grew tense. One of them said sharply, "Are you talking about us?"
He looked at him. Directly. Without hesitation.
"If the shoe fits…" he went silent for a second, "then you are free to interpret it however you like."
The air grew heavy. The friend who spoke first looked at him seriously. "We aren't tools."
And here… something happened. Not outside, but… within him. Something settled. An idea… was completed.
He looked at him… then said in a very quiet voice:
"In fact, you are."
Silence.
"Humans…" he continued, "are merely tools."
Shivers of shock. Anger. Rejection. But he didn't stop.
"To be used…"
"To be replaced…"
"And to be discarded…"
Then he pointed to himself. Slowly.
"And the only difference…" He raised his eyes. Cold. Devoid of any warmth. "Is that I… figured this out early."
He stepped a bit closer toward his friend. "I am the first party."
The other took a step back without realizing it. For the first time… he didn't see a friend in him. Rather… something unknown.
The System moved.
> **[Decisive Intellectual Shift Detected]**
> **[New Definition of Humans: Tools]**
> **[+10 Darkness Points]**
> **[Mental Evolution: Increased Resistance to Emotional Influence]**
>
He sat back down. Calmly.
As for them… they were no longer as they had been. The laughter vanished. The talking dwindled. The looks changed.
And most importantly… they began to doubt. But not in themselves this time… but in him.
And that… was exactly what he wanted.
On his way back, he walked alone. But he didn't feel lonely. Rather, he felt something else.
Liberation.
*"Every time a mask falls… I get closer to the truth."*
*"And every time I lose someone… I get closer to control."*
He raised his gaze to the sky. "Tools…" he whispered. "Shouldn't understand their user."
The System appeared quietly.
> **[Warning]**
> **[Detected: Start of User being targeted by surroundings]**
> **[Evaluation: Danger Low → Medium]**
>
He smiled.
"Finally…"
Something… was fighting back.
And in that moment, he was no longer just the one breaking others. He became… a target.
And the game… became even more beautiful.