The Worldview Where Everyone is Destined to Die

Chapter 1: Murder Without Consequences (1)

I've been dreaming the same thing for the past few years.

"I'm truly sorry that it ended up like this."

I couldn't tell if my vision turned red due to the setting sun on the horizon or because my head was cracked and bleeding.

I just wanted to say that my choices didn't cause this havoc; it was all part of an elaborate trap, but...

Clack.

Now it's too late for regrets.

I broke the barrel of the pistol I was holding onto with the last bullet left.

Click!

"Damn it!"

"..."

The basic probability of a loaded bullet being shot immediately is . A misfire on the first shot had to be the most horrible coincidence.

But the next bullet had to be a perfect hit.

The boy standing in front of me was as quiet as a late-night sky. Facing death, the young man just tilted his head.

His unique irises, red and purple, began to disappear under those heavy eyelids.

Kill him before life drains out.

Bang!

The bullet subtly missed the forehead and aimed for the right eye; the liquid from the clear exit wound was evident.

And so I go back.

Back to the past, before all of this misfortune began.

"I had a dream about this."

"Hmm... I see."

"Tell me your honest feelings."

"It felt like an embarrassing dream, unfit for someone like Senior Arma, who is worth more."

"..."

It was late summer, the 24th anniversary.

The morning at the Royal Aegis Academy, built on an island surrounded by sea on all sides to train the Kingdom's elites, resonated with the sound of loud waves crashing.

Despite the morning heat, Shirley followed me with a kind smile when she was called out of nowhere. She sat on the railing at the edge of the cliff, tapping the ground with her shoes.

Whenever I glanced at her long purple ponytail, swaying in the wind, I couldn't help but frown at her indifferent reaction.

"It's too much."

"You want me to be honest? It's quite odd. I walked out with great determination just to follow you here."

"So, you are prepared, then?"

"Senior, you're a promiscuous womanizer, flirting regardless of a person's age or gender."

Shirley's finger, initially pointing at my face with the term 'senior', shifted downward at the word 'promiscuous.'

It was evident that Shirley paid no mind to the four-year age difference between us.

With a soft sigh, I curbed her genuinely problematic behavior by gently folding the finger she had pointed at me.

"Well, I simply appreciate the charm that the other person possesses. All we need to do is uncover it."

And that wasn't even the most pressing matter at the moment.

Shirley, seemingly uninterested in my explanation, gracefully descended from the railing, encircling the cliff where she had been seated.

"Are you intending to embark on that tirade once more? I, Arma Cruz, am the offspring of a merchant and possess an eye for discerning the true value of things."

"<Cruz will see the value, not the weight, according to Article 1 of the family law. >...Are you referring to that?"

"Something along those lines."

It bears little resemblance, and this reinterpretation would likely cause my mother, the family head, to faint if she ever heard it.

I found myself inadvertently branded as a womanizer.

Though I genuinely wished to dispel this misconception, now wasn't the opportune moment.

Today, the weight of the holster concealed within my shirt felt burdensome.

It seemed I might have to part with the pistol, permitted for possession by the Aegis Academy, given the prevalence of dark mages with a high risk of elopement. This rule applied to anyone who wasn't a mage.

"So, who's the guy you mentioned, the one who shot you in the eye in your dream?"

"Theodore White."

"Ehh, seriously?"

Shirley, gracefully descending from the railing, executed a flawless backflip in this precarious location, leaving me feeling somewhat powerless.

Her eyes, closer to the shade of wine than natural grapes, were partially concealed beneath those eyelids.

"What's seriously? It is as I said."

"If it's Theodore, is he from the 'Crown of Thorns class'? Oh, there he is."

Shirley pointed into the distance with the same finger she had previously used to indicate me. The chosen location for our secret conversation was on the southernmost side of the Royal Aegis Academy, sponsored by the Wooden Cross class specializing in arts and physical education.

On the other hand, the spot Shirley gestured to now was on the western side of the academy, sponsored by the Crown of Thorns class, known for its specialization in black magic, also commonly referred to as magic.

Moreover, the academy housed a Black Lily class specializing in divinity and a Silver Grail class specializing in humanity, but gaining entry into these classes wasn't straightforward.

The island where the academy stood resembled an upside-down star, with the Black Lily and Silver Grail classes situated at the farthest corner from the outside.

Hence, except for encounters with individuals from the Crown Thorns class, meeting students from the other classes was relatively rare.

"Truly an unfortunate coincidence."

"Unfortunately, compared to other classes, it's easier to cross paths with students from the Crown of Thorns class. So, I guess I have a rough idea of what that dream was about."

I guided Shirley, who seemed prepared to attempt a riskier stunt, by hanging over the edge inside the building, diverting her from potential danger. Afterward, my gaze hesitated before finally turning to the west.

'He's really there.'

From a distance, I could make out the side profile of Theodore White, the elite young man specializing in black magic---a warrior with short gray hair tied back in a ponytail.

'They said he was around 19, but he looks younger than his age. No, I should say he looks even younger than what I saw in the dream.'

"... Ugh!"

"Senior? What's wrong?"

"Nothing; it's alright. I just had a sudden shooting pain in my head."

"How can you be okay if you get sudden shooting pain? Let me take a look."

For some reason, my mood hasn't been the best since that dream. Although it hadn't actually occurred, upon waking up, my entire body throbbed as if I had been struck.

It felt as if I were being influenced by something from the dream, but now it feels painful in a different way.

"Sh-Shirley... What you're doing right now isn't helping. Is this some form of physical therapy?"

"Huh, I lost so much money worrying about you."

While Shirley might have been genuinely concerned, she was gripping my head---the head of the man who had just mentioned his throbbing headache, something one should never do.

Theodore was there, seated on a bench, his hands resting on his knees, seemingly oblivious to our conversation.

"What's wrong with you wearing winter clothes in such hot weather? There's no breeze today either."

"I just came to soak up some sun."

"Well, that's what's strange. Why endure this scorching heat in winter clothes?"

Similar to the Wooden Cross class, the Crown of Thorns class also adhered to the familiar yet perilous design, featuring a thin and relatively weak railing around the cliff's edge.

In general, such ambiguous safety measures tend to restrict students. Consequently, railings were often touched or tampered with by more daring individuals like Shirley, who threw caution to the wind.

Luckily, the Crown of Thorns class students seemed more disciplined, refraining from engaging in such eccentric behaviors. Could this be the distinction between majors in arts and physical education and those in magic arts?

"Just because he shot me in the dream, do you think I should seek counseling or something?"

"Uh? But, senior."

"I can't believe I harbored such a violent nature deep within me."

"Actually, you don't even need me to answer, right?"

I intercepted Shirley, who had leaped onto the railing once again, mid-air, and gently lowered her to the ground, sighing.

"If you end up as a social misfit, you might find yourself joining some religious order right after graduation. Now that we've come this far, I wouldn't want that---"

"Wow, senior, you're really indulging in some pointless talk today. That's not it; let's go now."

Before I could succumb to despair over my own words and the looming future, Shirley pulled me towards the Crown of Thorns class.

As expected, it felt like a sturdy tug from the strongest woman in the Wooden Cross class.

I pretended not to care, silently praying that my hair, now slightly disheveled, wouldn't betray the proper upbringing I had received.

"Theo---!"

"Hey, brat!"

Theo, who had been quietly observing his hands, turned his head at the sharp, horn-like voice. Shirley, unfamiliar with Theodore, was suddenly acting recklessly. Why, in heaven's name, was she doing this?

I found myself opening my mouth, contemplating how to make this interaction less awkward---whether to resort to small talk about the weather or employ the age-old plea for assistance in life.

"T-Theodore! So, the weather today and the eye patch are... Uh?"

Despite my concerns, I fell silent and pointed at Theodore with a foolish expression. Theodore shifted his gaze towards us, his focus fixed in one direction.

"The eye patch..."

Now, I was the type of person who unabashedly critiqued another's appearance.

Shirley spoke on my behalf, sensing my embarrassment.

"Theo! Winter clothes start next month. If you do this, you will be taken to the disciplinary room!"

Theodore responded a beat late to her shout, bowing his head as he stood up.

"Senior, don't you think you were a bit too harsh in criticizing his appearance? He might misunderstand it as a joke about the eye patch."

"Shirley. Si-since when did he start wearing the eye patch?"

"Since when? Are you really having such bad sleep?"

It was evident that Shirley suspected it was me, not Theodore, who had been shot in the head in my dream.

A couple of minutes later, Shirley looked up at my face with a frown and spoke with a serious tone.

"Theo suffered an eye injury right after he was born, some unfortunate accident. I don't know when he began to wear the eye patch, though. His older sister would know more than me."

So, the eye patch was the issue. The black eye patch covering Theodore's right eye felt unfamiliar to me.

In my memory, Theodore White was this elegant-looking warrior with both eyes shaded in red and purple.

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