"It's been three days and no mission."

I nodded and again felt that this cramped space resembled a prison. Elena sat with her hands crossed and looked at me intently every second, acting like an interrogator who doubted my every word. "I... I tried various things. I even started exercising again." It's just jogging and doing ten push-ups, though. "But, I didn't get any EXPERINECE. I guess the way to get it is by completing missions."

"I see." Elena nodded, and started taking notes, again. "So, did the intensity of your previous missions come quite often?"

"Eh, well..." I didn't remember it in detail because at that time I thought it was nonsense. "It can't be called frequent, maybe around a day or two. But, never this long."

"I understand your frustration, but from what you've said, it's probably normal. However, we can't make a definite diagnosis because the data you provided is incomplete," said Elena, now really looking like a scientist, especially with that lab coat and formal suit.

The casino was closed today, so I guess she had no reason to maintain her elegant disguise.

"From the few cases that have occurred, we've come to the conclusion that these things called Mission grants are related to extraordinary things happening around the user. Things that also affect motivation, even inspire it, well, have you ever considered that's what's happening, Mr. McKane? That you might be starting to lose motivation?"

I scratched the back of my neck, which wasn't itchy. "Motivation, hm," I said listlessly under my breath.

It reminded me of the first mission, when this all began. Back then I never had any desire to save Liz, but this System forced me to.

However, could it not be the case? Could it be that I actually wanted to save her and wanted to be a hero?

Okay. That can't be the case, because why would I?

However, that mission gave me so much money as a reward, maybe that was the real trigger? What I have to do may not have any direct connection to what I want.

Now that I had money and real economic independence, I didn't have to worry about many things, which could be why my motivation was eroding.

I left Pavillion Street with mixed feelings. Thankfully, I hadn't pressed the official contract Elena had promised.

That kind of money was tantalising, but at the same time, it was scary. High risk high return, it's an economic principle. Elena may appear to be a real scientist, but she still works for a businessman. They only buy things they can resell at a higher price.

I should be wary of such a commitment. Especially after what they did to Red's flock, and Brick, and his sister...

[Cunning ACTIVATED]

Huft... this does take up almost a third of my stamina, but at least it's much more useful than my other Skills.

So... inspiration, huh.

What better place to find that than at school.

*#*

Realising dreams with relentless aspiration and persistence. That's the motto of Dreamriver High School. Not so bad, if actually implemented in real life.

For some people, the impact isn't that clear. It only applies to those who are luckier, richer, and stronger. But not for the weak little people like me.

I mean, just look at what I'm witnessing in the hallway near the school car park.

It was an open space that anyone could walk through, but Phil Grayson (one of Jason's goon) sat on Richards' crouching shoulders.

I thought the bullying was over, but it turned out to be just a different perpetrator. I think this one was a lot harder than dealing with Jason. Although not scarier, Phil was known for contributing more trophies to the school. From Olympics to athletic sports like marathon.

Which means that the teacher's immunity and possibility to reprimand him is much smaller (you wouldn't let your valuable asset become inconvenient, right?).

I had done my best before, and anyway, Jason's entourage was no longer in the mood to bother me, so I might as well enjoy this moment to the fullest.

"McKane, hey!"

However, as it had happened before, nothing in life is ever going to be smooth sailing.

It wasn't just Phil's call that stopped me, but the floating text.

[OPPORTUNITY TO FIND GREAT INSPIRATION]

I knew it from the start. The system hates me. No, the world hates me.

Inspiration? Motivation? That's not what started all of this, but rather a bloody gamble for my life (though I've never bled out so far, anyway). "Yes?" I turned around, pretending not to see Richards who gave me an incredulous look.

"Jason said he wouldn't be able to finish his final project or something. He's busy. There's a tournament he has to parcipate in," Phil said as he scrolled through his phone and acted like nothing had happened.

I could see Ricahrds who was whimpering and trying to hold on so as not to fall. I gulped. 

This was no time for pity, damn it.

However, as if it was uncontrollable, my body again moved without being commanded. I advanced, pushed, and the startled Phil lost his balance and fell.

While staring at the bastard trying to get up and groaning, I reached out to Richards. The danger detection signal in my head again told me to run immediately. However, I had long since ignored that signal, and now I had no reason to be afraid anymore. 

"If you do this again, I'll make sure you're in big trouble," I said, with my chest beating and my heart somehow filled with pride.

*#*

With great power comes even more troublesome things.

I guess that's why not everyone deserves to be a hero. Being a hero means you're ready to face an antagonist. You're ready to accept his pain. You're ready to bear the burden of dizzying responsibilities.

Like now.

"Did you ever think that what you did could be dangerous?"

This was the first time I went into the discipline committee room as a problematic child.

This was one of the reasons why I never wanted to deal with Phil. Jason may resemble a giant hurricane and tsunami that cannot be contained, but at least it can be anticipated. Phil, however, is a landslide. You don't know when it's coming, and when it does, it's too late.

Phil wouldn't weaken the mental process by just bothering you every day, but also justify his actions with the help of teachers. He's the type I hate. A bully who slowly brainwashes you and makes you see yourself as less than you really are. The type of person like Dad.

"Hey, are you listening?" said Mr Henderson impatiently.

I stared back at him with my mouth agape and my hands clenched into fists. "Yes."

"You were such an obedient student before. You should start picking your friends. Hanging out with troublemakers like Wilson, or Richards will get you nowhere. Mark my words if you still want to be a top graduate candidate here and study at a good university in the city."

What?

It seemed like my jaw hardened and my gaze turned sharp. Before I had a chance to explode, Mr Henderson was already talking again, "What are you waiting for? Class is about to start, go back. Since it's your first time, I'll let you. But, I don't like kids who don't learn from their mistakes. Understand?"

It was one of those difficult moments. A whole lot of unnecessary memories from childhood seeped back into the recesses of my mind and the urge to beat up this opportunistic old man in front of me arose.

[Cunning ACTIVATED]

And just like that, my anger was instantly quelled. "Alright."

I need to settle this by myself.

When I returned to the classroom to attend Mrs Thorne's chemistry class, I couldn't find my seat anywhere. It was usually in the front row. Before meeting Mr Henderson just now, I had also placed my bag there. However, that bag was also gone. All the seats had also been claimed.

"Is something wrong?" Mrs. Thorne's voice echoed fiercely.

I gulped. Almost the entire class was now looking at me. "I... can't find my seat."

"Then you're in the wrong class." Mrs Thorne's rhetorical question provoked a small laugh from everyone.

Being the object of many people's jokes like that made me nervous too and could only stammer. "N-no, Miss. My class is here, I had put my bag down earlier too and had to leave for some reason. But, now it's suddenly gone."

"In that case, you were negligent, or as I said: you entered the wrong class and don't want to admit it. Either way, solve your problem outside and don't mess with my class."

The end of that sentence was so loaded with threats. And I wasn't in the mood to provoke another scene.

I turned around and took a step backwards in agitation, only to slip on something and slide down.

That was a dangerous way to fall. My chin almost landed first. One of the fragile bones in that part of the face, if it came into direct contact with a hard surface aided by the pull of gravity, would have fatal effects. It could have been a concussion, or even serious internal bleeding.

However, everyone laughed.

Those familiar scornful looks came from above and celebrated my embarrassing incident.

I looked behind me, and there was Mrs Thorne, girdling her loins and getting even angrier. And a leg sticking out. Phil's leg. The bastard placed his finger in front of his mouth and winked in amusement.

So, this is what you wanted, huh.

You'll reap what you sow.

It means war!