"Starting today, all training sessions will be supervised by upperclassmen," the instructor said, scanning the classroom. "Each of you will be assigned a mentor. If anything is unclear—ask immediately."
The door opened, and upperclassmen filed into the class. Among them was her—the swordswoman.
Tall, confident, with white eyes, a cold gaze, and a blade on her back.
The instructor continued:
"The seniors will choose their pupils. Each will select whom they deem suitable."
The students began to glance at each other quietly as the upperclassmen slowly moved between the rows.
Sai lowered his eyes, trying not to stand out.
And suddenly, she stopped in front of him.
"I'll take him," said the swordswoman, pointing at Sai.
The classroom froze.
Lars poked him in the side quietly:
"Whoa, brother… you're in luck. Look at her! And, heh, can't help but notice… what a lovely chest she has."
Sai jerked away sharply.
"Lars! Shut up!"
"Relax," Lars grinned. "You're not planning on saying anything to her, are you?"
Sai just nodded, feeling something tighten inside.
He looked at the swordswoman and couldn't understand—was it fear, respect, or something familiar stirring deep in his memory.
"First training session tomorrow in hall 'North-3'," the swordswoman added without blinking. "Be on time. I don't like people who are late."
Sai nodded:
"Understood."
"And remember," she said again, turning to him, "I'll be watching your every step. Don't disappoint me."
Lars whispered in his ear again:
"Bro, tomorrow's gonna be interesting. I'm betting on you."
Sai just exhaled and looked away.
He knew one thing: tomorrow he would have to go through real fire, and this mentor was no simple teacher.
Something quivered in his chest.
Something was making him prepare.
Something was demanding that he become stronger.
---
Sai was sitting at his desk when his phone vibrated.
The screen lit up with a name: Grandpa.
He sighed and answered.
"Sai, how are you holding up?" came the familiar hoarse voice.
"Everything's fine," he replied, trying to sound confident. "Training… they're assigning mentors now."
"Hm," Grandpa chuckled quietly. "And who got chosen for you?"
"A swordswoman. She chose me," said Sai.
"Ah, so someone decided you need to become stronger," Grandpa's voice turned serious. "Sai… remember, every day, every action, every decision is a step towards who you will become. Not just an Academy student. A true fighter."
"I understand," Sai replied, but in his heart, he felt Grandpa's words were too heavy.
"And listen," Grandpa continued, "don't be afraid if it gets hard. You need to be strong not for me, not for the Academy, but for yourself. I know you can handle it."
"Thanks, Grandpa," he said quietly. "I'll try."
Grandpa gave a short grunt.
"Alright, enough philosophy. Talk later. Don't forget to call."
Sai put the phone on the desk and looked again at the swordswoman, who was sitting nearby.
Something quivered inside him—a mix of excitement, respect, and a slight fear.
He thought:
"If I want to understand if life is worth living, if I want to become stronger… tomorrow is the first real step. And I can't mess up."
The whole day passed in anticipation of the training hall. Every move Sai made in class felt like preparation for what lay ahead. He saw Lars watching him curiously, heard other students whispering, but he focused on only one thing: not to disappoint.
During the break, he took out his phone again and checked his system stats. A small increase in strength, a slightly higher endurance—but for now, they were just numbers.
"It all starts small," he muttered to himself. "But I'll do it."
When it was time to head to the training hall, he packed his bag, checked that he had everything he needed, and stepped into the corridor.
The day seemed to tighten around him—every moment filled with anticipation, resolve, and inner tension. He understood one thing: this day would change him.
And somewhere deep down, he felt the revolver in his bag, as if waiting.
"Tomorrow… or even today… I'll show what I'm capable of."