Chased by witch hunter

 Niard shook his head in despair. There were two days left until his challenge with that tattooed man.

"Damnit, how will I win that fight without magical abilities?" Niard said to himself. He thought of asking the system about that player in the library, but before he knew it, he opened his eyes and gasped excessively.

"Doctor, Niard's condition is worsening," cried Tala, who had not left his side for the past three days. She herself did not know why she was doing this. Her mission was to monitor him, but for some reason, she felt that what happened to him was her fault.

"I was there when he was attacked. I had a two-second window to do something, but I didn't..." She closed her mouth with her hand as she watched Naird struggle to breathe. She was then escorted out of the room so the doctors could do their work.

"How is he?" Jerry asked, who had been checking on Niard every two hours, asked her, but Tala did not answer his question and instead let out a long sigh that conveyed her exhaustion. 

"Calm down, Niard. You had planned not to use your magic power in Jerry's duel, and the result was terrible. You have to accept the situation," Niard whispered to himself. The doctor had reassured him that he could leave the intensive care unit. Niard insisted on not leaving the bed due to his concern about his upcoming fight with the tattooed man.

At the door of his room, a tall man stood in front of him. He sighed loudly and then said, "The boss sends you his regards. He heard about your injury and certainly does not want to face a weak, wounded person, so another date will have to be set after you recover..." The man blew a strand of hair out of his eyes, which were surrounded by dark circles, giving him a frightening look.

"I—I'm fine, look—" Niard couldn't finish his sentence. The man quickly interrupted him by striking the wall of the room with his leg, leaving a mark on it. He drew closer, his breaths heavy. "The boss's words are not to be debated. I could crush you without anyone noticing your presence or losing you, but orders are orders. Damn it," the man declared, spitting on the floor as he pulled out a cigarette, despite knowing smoking was forbidden here. The man stepped back when he saw Niard's calm and extinguished spark. The man's smile remained etched in Niard's mind.

Niard clenched his fist in frustration, "Damn it, I don't want a magic system just to become strong," he said, hitting the wall next to the exit and then following his path.

"Who is that boy who broke the wall thirty seconds after hitting it?" asked one of the doctors who had seen Niard vent his anger on the poor wall. Despite the academy buildings being designed to withstand the strongest blows and explosions, no part of them had ever been damaged before.

"That's Niard Lux. His eye is not perfect, but he receives excessive attention from the council and some collaborators," replied his colleague, who was holding Niard's health reports, detailing how his body did not respond to treatment at all. What was strange was his cells' remarkable ability to regenerate and repair damage.

"This boy is special, but should we report him for damaging academy property?" asked the assistant doctor while his colleague remained engrossed in the astonishing medical results, noting Niard's heart rate exceeding two hundred beats per minute and his temperature fluctuating between thirty-eight and sometimes forty degrees Celsius.

"Do what you must, but I urgently want to conduct more tests on this Niard," said the doctor's colleague in a tired voice, reflecting the amount of work that awaited him.

"Mr. Liner, the General requests your presence. He also ordered a report on Niard's condition to be attached to his file by the end of the day."

One of the assistants, who had made his presence known in his elegant suit, said, "The files you requested will be available at his office in an hour."

The doctor replied without lifting his eyes from the medical results, as if he would miss something if he looked away, "I am starving. I hope my fruit salad is ready. Since my argument with the chef back then, I went and apologized for my rudeness. He is a good man and agreed to give me a special dish every week."

Niard whispered as he walked towards the dining hall. As usual, he sat at the table in the corner, but the difference was that everyone in the hall was staring at him.

"What changed while I was away? Have I been accused of a crime without knowing?" he said mockingly, aware that his system was temporarily down. This fact remained stuck in his mind. He relaxed a bit after filling his stomach.

"Did you hear that this boy was chased by witch hunters?" Niard heard a boy speaking from the table in front of him, who was pointing at him with sharp looks. His friend banged on the table and then said, "Yes, that's right. This explains the presence of Mesa, the greatest witch hunter in the world, here."

His friend responded while they continued their meal. Many questions arose in Niard's mind. "It seems Jerry's lesson wasn't an ordinary one. I have to meet him," Niard sighed. He was, of course, aware of witch hunters and the experiments they conducted on witches, sometimes leading to their deaths.

"But most of the information about witch hunters and their movements has been lost for a century. Could they have suspected me? Damn, what stupidity. Of course, they did. Why didn't I think about the unreasoned presence of Jerry here?" Niard shook his head in regret for his lack of focus.

"Why did you leave the medical wing? You are still sick and need to rest," Tala said in a calm voice, her features adding more to the suspicions surrounding her.