Strangely Dressed Character

Are you confused about how I ended up in a purposely induced nightmare?

We have to go back a few hours ago to answer that.

The first semester at the academy had just ended a few days ago and without hesitation, I called the number that Cyro had given me.

Admittedly, a part of me felt like the time would be better spent going out of the city and traveling around to gather more codes and artifacts.

But two things prevented me to do so.

Firstly, I realized that I was foolish about how I had been approaching how to make myself overpowered.

In the novel, the main character wasn't just overpowered because he had numerous codes that no other characters had or because his entire outfit consisted of artifacts.

No.

If that was the case then every time he ran out of usage for either of them, he'd be done for.

He was overpowered because he had all those codes and artifacts to use on top of his actual strength, his magic, his proficiency with the blade, and even his stamina.

I was too caught in the trap of just adding more and more building blocks trying to reach the sky when I hadn't even solidified my foundation to support those blocks yet.

Secondly, there was a certain person who I couldn't leave alone in this city.

At first, it was two days in between, then it was every day, now it was almost twice a day.

I tried my hardest to convince her that once a day was enough.

I really didn't want to reach that hundred mark because the chain that would tie us together felt not only burdensome but also would be a factor I would need to consider in my plans in the future.

"Do you want me to attack a stranger for blood then? I really have the bloodthirsty urges. I'm telling you the truth," she said.

I wasn't convinced but — how I could refute it?

I wasn't the one who knew the state of her body and anything I said couldn't be backed up by evidence.

I was tempted to just take her with me everywhere I went but the risk of revealing our unique relationship to others wasn't a risk worth taking.

So I ultimately chose to just stay in the city for the meanwhile and train with my brother's friend.

During the break, how am I to deliver my blood to the thirty vampire who subconsciously licks her lip every time she tastes it?

I quite literally will have to take time out of my day to drive to this public bathroom at a park near her house.

It was the only place she said she could go there every day without her family getting suspicious about her whereabouts.

I offered to just take her to one of my apartment buildings that Mother owned in the city but she refused, claiming that was too indecent for her to be doing when we weren't even dating.

When she had told me that, I thought to myself, 'How is that any more indecent than you taking off my shirt every day and sucking on my neck?'

As I got out of the car, I rubbed my neck which was already healed by the potion but I could still feel a lingering sensation on it for some reason.

"She sucked too much blood," I groaned.

I not only was training my mana using a technique that wasn't known to this world yet but had also consumed a demon core.

I had more mana than any other student at the academy by a large margin.

This I was sure of.

And yet — the amount of mana Diana was draining from my body these past few days, I was worried that I was going to turn into a pickle pretty soon.

"Hurry up and arrive so you can take my place," I muttered, referring to the main character of the novel.

"Now... where the hell am I?" I pondered as I stared at a forest.

When I called Quentin, he just said a few words before hanging up. Then in the midst of my confusion, he provided me with coordinates that led deep into the heart of a dense forest.

Coincidentally the same forest that Diana had been hiding out in that night.

'Why is he in this random location? Couldn't we have just met at a restaurant or... anywhere that isn't here?'

Doubts gnawed at the edges of my mind as I followed the programmed directions on my GPS.

Meeting up at a location shrouded with mystery suited a fantasy novel but I still couldn't help but wonder if I had a misunderstanding or if there was a mistake in the information he had given me.

With each step further into the foliage, the towering trees of green with thin layers of snow and thick underbrush closed in around me.

The forest seemed untouched, as if time had forgotten its existence. It was the exact opposite of the city that it bordered where traces of humanity existed at every square inch.

The ancient presence of nature lent an air of otherworldliness to my surroundings.

When I reached the exact spot I was supposed to be, there was no one there.

'Am I early?' I wondered. But when I checked the information he gave me, not only was I not early but I was even two minutes late.

Leaning my back against a tree, I began scrolling through social media to pass the time. The acquaintances I followed were posting photos of them getting ready to travel or already traveling to their vacation spot.

It was like they were rubbing salt on a wound they didn't know existed.

Five minutes passed.

Ten minutes.

Then when thirty minutes passed, I said out loud, "He must've given me the wrong location."

Just as I turned around and began retracing my steps, a subtle shift in the air caught my attention.

The atmosphere crackled with an unfamiliar energy and before I could react, a person had materialized right beside me.

It wasn't like Liona's ability that allowed me to cross ahead in time, the person in front of me was just so quick that I couldn't perceive their movement.

Assuming this was Quentin, my eyes widened in surprise as I took in his eccentric appearance; I was intrigued, to say the least, but disbelief also washed over me.

Quentin stood before me as an embodiment of casual confidence.

He had on shades that shielded his eyes from the Sun's glare, lending an air of mystery.

His vibrant pink Hawaiian shirt, adorned with bold patterns, seemed to clash with the wintry landscape. It was even unbuttoned and his tanned torso was exposed for the world to see.

A sun hat perched atop his head covering the top of his extremely pale blonde hair that was spiky and long, reaching to the middle of his spine.

To complete the ensemble, he had on shorts and sandals.

"Hey there buddy," he greeted me with a casual wave, his voice infused with an easygoing charm. "Quentin Atwood, your brother's most precious friend. Where were heading off to?"

Momentarily thrown off by his relaxed demeanor, I took a while before answering, "I thought there must've been a mistake in the information you gave me. After all... you are half an hour late."

I had envisioned someone more serious and stern when Cyro recommended me a teacher to guide me in the arts of combat.

He brushed off the fact that he was late with a gesture of his hand and then said, "What's time but a man-made construct?"

Then he offered me his hand.

I answered while shaking the offered hand, "I don't think that's how it works in this context but... sure... I guess? I'm Bell Agnus by the way."

"So, Bell of the Agnus family, I'll guess I'm your personal trainer for your winter break. Ready to get started?" he asked.

'Already getting right into it? That was a short introduction.'

His appearance was very jarring but the power that radiated from his presence was undeniable.

There was something captivating about him even though I couldn't sense his aura. It just felt like he was a magnet beckoning me to embrace the unorthodox.

"Sure but... before that, aren't you cold?" I questioned, looking at his outfit once again.

"Cold? Hahaha," he said. "It's so hot right now that if I could walk around naked, I would."

"Please don't," I begged. "I'm... I'm straight."

He grinned and reassured me, "I won't. I'm a law-abiding citizen. I'm also not into men. I'm only into cougars so you can rest easy."

'But you're in your 30s. Wouldn't a cougar for you be like a forty or fifty or even sixty-year-old woman?' I thought this in my head although I wanted to verbally ask it.

He looked at my hand and asked, "What's that in your hand?"

"This?" I said, looking at Gon who was awake and in my grasp. "This is Junipa. My main weapon."

"Junipa eh?" He admired it from afar and then as one eyebrow raised, he sniffed the air. "Is that mermaid tears?"

"It is. How could you tell?"

"I have a pretty sensitive nose," he answered. "Alright that's enough talking, come at me," he said as he was gesturing with his hand for me to approach him.

"Are you asking to spar?" I asked, already unwrapping the bandages that Gon was wrapped in.

"I wouldn't call it a spar. More like an ass whooping disguised as your first lesson," he responded with a cheeky grin. "Now, don't make me say it a third time. Actions speak louder than words. Show me what you've got."

His hands were bare and I had a sword that could slice through air particles itself and yet, I felt like I was at a disadvantage.

Taking a deep breath, I filled myself with artificial determination and got into my usual stance, feeling the weight of Gon in my hands.

'Ready to stretch?' I asked it.

'Yes, master!' Gon responded.

Quentin stood there patiently as if he wasn't worried whatsoever about my preparations. He even yawned as if to demonstrate just how little he cared.

If I was a foolish main character of an isekai novel, I probably would be provoked by that and attack recklessly.

But I'm not.

With a burst of speed, I lunged forward, aiming at his neck.

Am I trying to kill him?

Yes. I am.

But that was only because I knew that if I didn't approach this with the mindset of killing this person in front of me, I would be demolished and treated like a test dummy.

Effortlessly, his palm which was wrapped in a thin but concentrated layer of mana blocked my sword.

Well, I say block but that wasn't really the entire truth.

He must've sensed Gon's sharpness because last second, as my blade had sliced into the thin layer and was about to cut his hand into two parts, he shifted the flow of his movement and redirected the blade more than he did block it completely.

"That's a really good weapon you have in your possession," he said as he continued to redirect my attacks with his palms without even taking a single step from his original position.

'Is he as strong as Draven?' I wondered.

I couldn't tell because he wasn't going all out but after reading Draven's original feats from the novel and then comparing it to how effortlessly easy it was for Quentin to deal with my deadly attacks, I wouldn't be surprised if this was the case.

That was a reminder for me to thank the shitty god for including such a terrible weakness of such a powerful character.

If it wasn't for his weakened state, Draven could've probably killed me a hundred times over before I could touch a single strand of his hair.

'Fuck,' I cursed.

I could already tell that training for the next few months was going to be frustrating.