Outside the jungle, Scarlett, who had long grown numb to Alex's constant defiance of normality, simply stared in silence.
'He actually did it…' she thought, her expression unreadable.
The level of treachery he'd reached in this encounter could make even the most hardened terrorist blush. She had thought that with his anger taking the wheel, Alex would have been more impulsive—reckless even. But no, it seemed that in him, anger only sharpened his mind, made him colder, more calculative.
'Diabolical,' she concluded silently.
The day he became strong enough, he would probably become either a great hero for the commoners or one of humanity's greatest enemies. There was no middle ground for someone like him.
Perhaps it was time to change her approach—to try redirecting his rage toward something constructive, to help him focus on saving rather than destroying. She wanted Alex to become the former, to use that blazing intellect and ruthless drive to make the world a better place.
On the other side, Fabian was quietly chuckling to himself, as if he had just witnessed something amusing rather than horrifying.
Back in the jungle…
Toric stood frozen.
"Mo-Monica…" he stuttered.
Before him stood the girl they had been tormenting—a mostly naked, ordinary-looking girl with the toned, lean muscle typical of a martial artist. She was now on her feet, her hand gripping his friend's heart as frost crept along her forearm.
Then she clenched her fist. The frozen heart shattered like glass, scattering bloodied shards across the dirt.
She didn't speak at first, perhaps because no words could fully convey the hatred that twisted inside her chest.
"You're next, beast," she finally said, her voice low and cold as ice.
"Looking away from your enemy in the middle of a fight—hah," a familiar voice came from behind, sharp and mocking. "What can I say? I was right when I said you guys were dumb."
Toric's hair stood on end. Without even turning, he raised his arm, aiming to crush his own leg—to break the bone and trigger the bracelet's safety recall.
But before he could even finish the motion, a water spear shot through his chest from the back. Crimson water mixed with chunks of what used to be inside him splattered around him as his body vanished into light.
He was gone.
Alex stepped from behind the trees, lowering his arm as the remnants of mana dispersed into the air. His eyes were cold and calculating as they locked onto the girl.
Way back at the start of the fight, when he had first approached the rock formation where she lay unconscious, Alex had thrown her a healing potion before he was blasted away by the punch. He'd hoped that, being a martial artist, she would awaken quickly, take the potion, and join him in putting those mongrels down.
It seemed that the gamble had paid off.
As he studied her in silence, the girl suddenly spoke. "Seen enough?"
"Sorry," he said, blinking, "I was lost in thought."
He reached into his pocket watch and pulled out a set of spare clothes, tossing them toward her. "Here, change into this."
"Thank you, Alex," she said softly. She didn't bother moving away, simply taking what little remained of her old rags before putting on his clothes right where she stood. At this point, she didn't care—there was nothing Alex hadn't already seen.
Alex averted his gaze anyway, closing his eyes to give her at least a shred of privacy and dignity.
"Thanks," she said again once dressed. "I don't even know how to repay you."
"Hmm, you're holding up a little too well for someone who just went through that," Alex mused aloud.
"I'm not well," she replied flatly. "It's a façade—for survival."
"Ah." Alex's expression softened slightly. He knew those words all too well—he'd said something similar to Susan once.
"Well, anyway, you don't owe me anything," he said after a moment. "I did this out of spite for the nobles. Your situation just added fuel to the fire. Besides, without your help, I'm not sure I would've won."
He was being honest. Even if they hadn't been doing what they did to her, Alex still would have attacked them. The only difference would've been how.
"Either way, if there's something you need, just say so," she said stubbornly, still intent on repaying him somehow.
"If you insist…" he sighed, "then do me one favor—say nothing about what happened. That's the best repayment you can give me. It'll help you too. Like that idiot Cael said, no teacher is watching this, so no problem will come knocking at your door. But if you talk—if word spreads—people will know. Then both you and I will be fucked." He paused, smirking faintly. "No pun intended."
"You're right," the girl murmured after a pause. The words stung, but she couldn't deny the truth. Reality didn't bend for emotions.
"Then you can leave," Alex said, his tone firm.
"Huh?" she blinked in surprise.
"Sorry, but you know who I am," Alex said, his voice steady, though his eyes were sharp and alert. "The last commoner I showed my back to tried to kill me. So forgive me if I sound untrusting—but I am."
"I see," she said quietly. Then she straightened, meeting his gaze. "Farewell—and once again, thank you, Alex."
"You're welcome," he replied, his tone softer now.
The girl turned and left. Alex didn't move until she disappeared from view, her figure swallowed by the foliage. Only then did he exhale and finally relax.
He'd been waiting for her to leave so he could take a healing potion without revealing that he had. She likely thought the one she'd found next to her came from the bastards who had attacked her.
As Alex's burns and bruises faded under the potion's effects, he stood up and resumed his hunt.
Days passed.
Alex gathered herbs, hunted monsters, and occasionally searched for other nobles. But with time, the number of people still active in the jungle—both commoner and noble—steadily decreased.
Finding anyone became harder with each passing day.
He spent his time quietly, crafting potions, experimenting with mixtures, and strengthening his magic control. He had no sense of urgency; he didn't want to stand out yet. Still, he knew he'd have to freestyle his effort—there was no way to track his position on the leaderboards from inside the jungle.
Each day, his stash grew. Potions, poisons, and even a few draughts meant to boost vitality or endurance. But ultimately, none of it saw use.
No nobles crossed his path.
And so the days turned to weeks, the jungle falling silent except for the wind through the leaves and the distant calls of unseen beasts. Eventually, it was the night before they would all be recalled by their bracelets.