Chapter Four – The Main Characters Part One
What should a person who has entered the manga he read in his previous life do?
The question floated in (Tokito)'s mind, a dry, academic inquiry in the midst of his silent, internal screaming.
Of course, he would try to look at the main characters he watched from the manga, right?
It was the logical isekai protagonist move. Scout the rivals, identify the love interests, pinpoint the future allies and villains. Gather intel. It was practically step two in the manual, right after "Panic Futilely."
But for (Tokito) at this moment, he did not feel this great desire to stare at anyone.
The cavernous hall they'd been herded into—the "Orientation Auditorium"—was a study in sterile, intimidating grandeur. Vaulted ceilings soared overhead, lost in shadow, punctuated by harsh, industrial lighting that cast no warmth. The air was cool, smelling of ozone, floor polish, and the sharp, collective scent of teenage anxiety. Rows of sleek, uncomfortable-looking metal seats descended towards a stark, empty stage.
Even if there were some attractive girls everywhere in this story.
His crimson eyes flickered momentarily over the crowd. He could spot them. The ones who looked like they'd stepped right off a character design sheet: girls with impossible hair colors in artfully messy styles, with large, expressive eyes and figures that defied both genetics and the practical cut of the standard-issue tracksuit.
But the impulse to gawk died before it could fully form.
Because inside, he knew that every person in this room, which was filled with students, most of them did not wish to become heroes to save others.
The knowledge from the manga, corroborated by the grim understanding he'd scraped from the internet, settled over him like a lead blanket.
Those who care only about fame and personal ambition.
That was the driving force here. This wasn't a gathering of altruistic hopefuls. It was a convocation of the desperately ambitious, the ruthlessly pragmatic, and the dangerously gifted, all funneled into a system that rewarded selfish strength above all else. A shark tank with better branding.
Unlike most hero stories, the manga that (Tokito Tokinari) had read in his previous life focused on the lives of people who strive for fame, ignoring the responsibility of heroes.
It was a deconstruction, a cynical take. And now he was living inside its cold, logical consequences.
At the same time, they were all now in the hall.
A low, constant hum of conversation filled the vast space—nervous whispers, arrogant boasts, the occasional too-loud laugh that echoed and fell flat. The sound of hundreds of bodies shifting in unison created a rustling, sighing backdrop, like wind through a forest of anxious leaves.
Rustle. Murmur. Scrape.
And (Tokito), his eyes were focusing on some characters he tried to recognize from the original manga.
He was a ghost at the feast, a pale, white-haired specter clinging to the periphery, near a support column that felt marginally safer than being in the open. He used the column's cold, solid surface as a shield, pressing his shoulder against it.
Thump.
The tactile sensation grounded him slightly.
In addition, unlike the time he recognized (Kaziyoshi Tsunami) by means of the system, he couldn't recognize the rest of the characters.
His gaze swept over the crowd. A boy with spiky green hair laughing loudly. A girl with silver braids looking intently at her own glowing hands. A hulking kid who seemed to be made of polished stone. Were they named characters? Background filler? Future corpses?
The system screen remained stubbornly absent. No helpful ping, no glowing text.
Perhaps the system has a different way of knowing the settings of the characters in this world.
The thought was a flicker of curiosity in the swamp of his dread. Maybe it needed a closer look. Maybe it was triggered by direct interaction, not just distant observation. Maybe it was just a lazy, half-baked feature, like everything else in his pathetic transmigration package.
Of course, he was about to discover the way the system works.
He had no choice. It was either figure out his one meager advantage or walk into the coming grinder completely blind.
In the end, (Tokito), even if he admitted that this system might not be on the same level as the systems obtained by other time-travelers, world-transferers, incarnators, or reincarnators…
A wry, bitter smile touched his lips. The taxonomy of isekai protagonists was surprisingly detailed. He was clearly in the "Lowest-Tier Joke Character" subclass.
…it remains better than nothing.
The mantra was getting thinner, more transparent with each repetition, but he clung to it. A dull butter knife was better than bare hands in a knife fight. Probably.
In the end, (Tokito)'s ability was just cloud formation.
He looked down at his own hand, flexing the slender fingers. He could almost feel the pathetic tingling, the potential for damp, fluffy disappointment. That was his reality. The system, for all its insulting inadequacy, was at least new. It was a variable. And in a situation this hopeless, any variable was a lifeline, even if it was a frayed thread.
Away from (Tokito), where his gazes were staring at most of the characters in this place—who were all teenagers—there were seven characters (Tokito) could at least focus on a little, as his memories from the manga began to appear and tell him about them.
The mental images surfaced, grainy and stylized like comic book panels, overlaying the real, breathing teenagers in front of him.
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The first person (Tokito) thought of after looking at him was a young man with blond hair and blue eyes, whom (Tokito) had met in front of the academy gate.
He was standing apart from the main throng, leaning against a wall near the stage with an air of detached boredom that seemed both practiced and utterly genuine. He wasn't talking to anyone. He was just… existing, beautifully, as if waiting for the world to arrange itself around him.
"(Kaziyoshi Tsunami)."
The name formed silently on (Tokito)'s lips.
He is the rival of the main hero in the manga and is also known to be the son of a family of heroes classified as S-Rank.
Nepotism, meet superpowers. His bloodline was a pre-approved ticket to the top.
In addition to possessing one of the very strong abilities, which is (Photonic Conversion).
The system's description flashed in his memory: convert parts of his body into light… shape it into forms of energy attacks.
The ability that allows him to manipulate light.
The boy, (Kaziyoshi), held up a hand idly, and a small, brilliant orb of condensed sunlight—no larger than a marble—appeared, spinning lazily between his fingertips. It cast sharp, dancing reflections on the faces of those nearby, who either looked away quickly or watched with naked envy.
Hiss. Fizz.
In addition, it is known to possess destructive power reaching the level of a severely explosive street.
"Street-level" in this context didn't mean a minor scuffle. It meant he could, theoretically, turn a city block into a smoldering crater if he cut loose. A walking, talking WMD with good hair.
And he is known for his intelligence in the manga.
(Tokito)'s manga memories supplied snippets: (Kaziyoshi) outthinking opponents, predicting moves, always ten steps ahead. He wasn't just power; he was precision.
It is true that he makes himself seem indifferent to anything because he is a cunning and very precise person in his steps and never acts recklessly.
The bored expression was a mask, a tool. It made opponents underestimate him, made them reveal their hands.
Especially since he is one of the most adaptable characters in the entire series.
Even in his fights in the manga, he showed the ability to know his opponent's abilities and respond to them very quickly.
He was a tactical processor in a pretty package.
He is also cold-spoken and very laconic, and always uses an ambiguous way of speaking.
A master of saying nothing meaningfully. Annoying for friends, terrifying for enemies.
He also uses a direct way of speaking.
This last bit seemed contradictory, but (Tokito) remembered it was true. When he chose to be direct, it was usually to deliver a devastating, surgical verbal blow. The ambiguity was the default; the directness was the knife.
This was (Tokito)'s knowledge about this character from the manga.
A sigh escaped him, a soft puff of air that didn't even stir the dust motes in the sterile light.
Fffh.
He then shifted his gaze to another character.
---
A girl with pink hair and violet eyes.
She was harder to spot at first, standing in a small, chatty group of other girls. But her hair was a soft, cotton-candy pink, and her eyes were a deep, luminous amethyst. She stood out like a single, blooming cherry tree in a forest of gray pines.
In addition, she possessed a slender body.
The standard uniform did little to hide the graceful lines of her figure.
With wide breasts for a 16-year-old girl.
(Tokito's) internal narrator, fueled by both manga tropes and the detached observations of his previous life, noted this with clinical resignation. Of course she did.
In addition to a very slender waist and a height of 160 cm.
She was petite, but carried a presence. She was listening to a friend talk, a small, polite smile on her lips, but her violet eyes were constantly moving, scanning the room, the exits, the other students, with a calm, calculating intensity that belied her cheerful exterior.
Before (Tokito) could think about the information he knew about the girl, he heard a sound in his mind.
Ping!
It was the sound. The sweet, digital chime of his pathetic system.
And the system screen appeared.
Host has encountered this main character from the manga.
– (Mirai Tsukuni) –
Age: 16 years –
Special Ability – Chrono-Eye –
Ability Effect – The Chrono-Eyes can see ten seconds into the future and see one minute into the past. They allow the user to interact with attacks at the speed of sound or higher depending on the user's agility.
– Destructive Power Level: Building-level Severely Explosive –
(Tokito) sighed as he saw the information related to (Mirai) with very calm eyes.
The information hovered in his vision, a glowing dossier on a girl who could literally see him coming. It was a bizarre sensation, reading someone's stats like they were a video game enemy. Dehumanizing. Terrifying.
It seemed there was no one paying attention to him as he read this information.
He was just another nervous kid staring into the middle distance, probably looking like he was about to be sick. Which wasn't entirely inaccurate.
At the same time, he couldn't help but think about how wonderful this ability was.
A bitter taste filled his mouth. Envy, sharp and acidic.
In the end, this ability can make the user see 10 seconds of the future several times a day.
Ten seconds. In a fight, in a trap, in any life-or-death situation, ten seconds of foresight was an eternity. It was the difference between a hole in the chest and a graceful dodge.
In addition, the user can activate this ability passively when in danger, so even if (Mirai) is unwilling to use her ability, her ability will show the future of ten seconds.
An automatic defense. She didn't even need to think about it. Danger approached, and her eyes would show her the path to safety. It was disgustingly unfair.
In addition, she can see one minute into the past, which allows her to discover things she overlooked or didn't know about, as long as she is fast enough.
Perfect for investigations, for uncovering ambushes, for never being truly surprised.
In addition, these eyes give the ability to interact with very fast strikes at the speed of sound or even higher.
So not only did she see the future, but her body was somehow enhanced to act on that knowledge at superhuman speeds. It was a complete package: precognition and the physical specs to use it.
As for destructive power, (Tokito) didn't focus much on it.
For (Mirai), who is also from a family of heroes, obtaining helping weapons will raise her destructive power.
He imagined her with a high-tech sniper rifle. She'd see ten seconds into the future, know exactly where her target would be, and pull the trigger. Unavoidable.
And with her ability to see ten seconds, especially since she uses long-range weapons, her attack power is very high.
She was a scalpel. A precise, deadly instrument that could strike from safety, guided by perfect knowledge.
At this moment, (Tokito) couldn't help but feel intense envy of this ability.
His fingers curled into fists at his sides, the nails pressing into his palms.
Creak.
In the end, seeing the future is considered one of the strongest types of abilities, which are time abilities.
It was a top-tier power. Always had been, in any story.
It is true that it does not allow her to manipulate time or anything else…
She couldn't stop time, couldn't rewind it. But she didn't need to. Seeing the immediate future was often more pragmatically useful.
…but it grants her abilities that put her on the same level as Spider-Man, like Spider-Man's spider-sense in the comics.
The comparison was apt. That tingle that warned Peter Parker of danger? (Mirai) got a full, high-definition, ten-second preview. It was spider-sense on steroids, with a replay function.
Her ability to see the future for ten seconds can protect the user from treacherous strikes.
No cheap shots. No sneak attacks. She'd see the knife in the back before the arm even started moving.
In addition, it allows her to interact with fast and evasive attacks.
Bullets, lasers, supersonic punches—she'd perceive them not as blurs, but as slow, dodgeable trajectories.
Most of the strikes that could be fatal.
For (Tokito), who possessed the sublime ability of cloud formation, the difference between the two abilities was vast to the extent that he could not think of a way to make the matter close, even.
The gulf was astronomical. He was a peasant with a damp rag facing a knight in full pre-cognitive power armor. There was no "making it close." The only strategy was to be so insignificant, so utterly beneath notice, that the knight wouldn't bother stepping on him.
"Useless to feel bitter."
He told his heart to stop the negative thoughts.
The internal command was feeble, but he tried. Wallowing in envy was a luxury he couldn't afford. It was a poison that would paralyze him.
After that, he looked at the other characters.
His eyes, still holding that eerie crimson glow, continued their scan. The hall was a tapestry of potential threats and future corpses.
In the end, there were many main characters in this place.
He could sense them. The ones who carried themselves with a certain aura, who seemed to occupy more space than their physical bodies accounted for. The focal points of the narrative gravity in the room.
And he decided to try to make the system work more to know their abilities more.
He needed to understand his tool. He focused, not on a person, but on the desire to know. He thought at the empty space in his mind where the screen appeared: Show me. Identify them.
Nothing happened.
Ping? he thought, desperately.
Silence.
Maybe he needed to be closer. Maybe he needed to make eye contact.
Steeling himself, (Tokito) pushed away from the safety of the column.
Shuffle.
He took a few hesitant steps into the crowd, moving like a ghost through the bustling teenagers. He avoided direct paths, weaving between groups, his eyes darting from face to face, trying to land on someone who felt important.
In the end, the manga didn't give him complete knowledge of the abilities of most of the side characters, as the focus was only on the main characters.
He was on his own. The system was his supplement, his pathetic, glitchy cheat code to fill in the blanks of a story he'd only skimmed the highlights of. He had to trigger it. He had to use it.
He spotted a tall boy with dark, spiky hair, a perpetual scowl on his face, sparks literally crackling between his fingertips.
(Tokito) focused, staring intently, trying to will the system into activation.
Look at him. Who is he? What can he do?
He took another step forward, his heart a frantic drum against his ribs.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The journey to map the terrifying landscape of his new life had begun, one potentially lethal main character at a time.
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End of Chapter.
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Author's Note:
Thank you for joining(Tokito) as he takes his first, trembling steps into the shark tank. Your presence makes his overwhelming envy slightly more bearable. ❤️ :)
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