"I never place any favorability between any of you," John said, his voice looking neutral despite the internal gears of his mind spinning.
He didn’t quite get what she was aiming at, but he felt the need to be clear about how fair he was. "If you provided sothing of value, I’ll stand by your side and totally support it. The sa goes for others as well."
"I know," Cissel’s voice trailed off. She looked down at her legs as they nervously swayed. Her mind seed to be drifting through a sea of mories, few of them involving John, but even more stretching back into a past he knew nothing about.
"Still, I was never t with such support in my life... My life... It was a weird mixture of misfortunes and ill treatnt. To have soone actually look at my opinions and value them, rather than just using as a tool or a target... It’s different... It’s priceless."
John gave her a side glance. A strange, unfamiliar surge of pity stirred in his chest, which he quickly tried to suppress. He realised then just how little he actually knew about her.
He had been so focused on her combat prowess, her speed, and her cold attitude that he hadn’t spared a thought for her family, her origins, or the scars she clearly carried.
At one point, his curiosity would have driven him to peel back those layers by digging deeper, but now, he found himself content simply to have such a capable girl by his side.
"I ca from a terrible place, one that looks more like hell or a prison," she suddenly admitted.
The ntion of the word ’prison’ struck John like a physical blow. The phantom chill of a steel cell and the mory of Mark’s treacherous sche flickered across his mind.
He knew the hellish reality of being a prisoner better than anyone in this world; he had been the victim of a dirty plot that stripped him of his life and his dignity. Hearing her use that word created a sudden, unspoken bond of trauma between them.
"I know I might sound boring," she continued, unaware of the storm her words had caused in his mind, "but honestly, being by your side... These were perhaps the best monts I ever had in my life."
"Everyone has tough monts in their lives," John slowly said, pausing as he resisted the urge to speak about his own ti behind bars. He wasn’t ready to share that part of his life with anyone yet. Instead, he reached for a comparison she would understand.
"See Luke, for example. His family was once fad and strong, and in one night, they lost everything. He is struggling and doing his best, though. He is trying hard to change and resist the bitter reality he found himself in. That’s why I respect him. And that’s why I respect you."
"..."
He had said the words casually, a simple statent of fact, but they touched a deep, resonant chord in Cissel’s heart. She didn’t respond imdiately. The silence stretched out, growing awkward as the seconds ticked by. She kept stealing glances at him from the corner of her eye, her usual sharp gaze softened by a faint, genuine smile that she tried to hide.
Feeling the atmosphere grow uncomfortably heavy, John decided it was ti to change the topic to sothing more practical.
"By the way," he began, "why are you so hostile against Ricky? When we arrived here, I always saw the two of you together, so I assud..."
"We aren’t together!" Cissel interrupted, her reaction instant and decisive. She had totally mistaken the aning of his inquiry, her face flushing with a mix of irritation and defensive pride. "He... He isn’t the type of person you think he is, John. He isn’t my type on top of everything... Don’t let the polite act he is putting on these days fool you."
It was John’s turn to steal glances at her. He was just curious about how the two changed from being a cat and a mouth at the academy, to be friends when they ca here, then changed recently to show the sa enmity vibes he felt back at the academy.
He had already suspected that Ricky was hiding a grand secret—sothing perhaps as ga-changing as John’s own system. He recalled the fragnts of information he had gathered about him: the dual abilities, the power to create dungeons, and that cryptic piece of information he had nearly overlooked—the fact that Ricky was a PARE, sothing he still wasn’t aware of its aning.
"Is he that dangerous?" John asked, probing gently. He could tell Cissel knew far more about the man than she was letting on.
"So far, no. But I can’t guarantee he will continue to be like this in the future," she replied, vaguely. The more she spoke, the more John beca certain she had a complete file on Ricky’s history.
"Anyway, enough about him," she said, suddenly shifting the topic back onto John with a gleam in her eyes. "What’s your secret?"
"Mine?!" John blinked, feeling the sudden, jarring shift in the conversation. He realised too late that the hole he had been digging for Ricky had just beco his own trap.
"I told you already, I have a special ability to sense others’ powers," she said, stopping and turning to directly face him. Her eyes were sparkling in a weird, intense way that made him feel like he was being scanned by a high-level firewall.
"I can tell you are special, very special. One of a kind, even! Still, I can’t tell exactly what’s special about you. Your power... It doesn’t follow the rules of the world."
John’s heart hamred hard against his chest. He couldn’t tell her about the System, about the Hacker Mind, or about his true origins. He needed a diversion—sothing so unexpected it would derail her train of thought entirely.
"Why don’t we make a deal then?" John suddenly chuckled, the smile a bit forced. "Why don’t I tell you that... After you go out on a date with ?"
He thought it was a brilliant move. Throwing a romantic bait at a girl like Cissel—soone so cold, attentive, and battle-hardened, and above all loves to be lonely and far from others—seed like the perfect way to push her away and evade this trap. Surely she would find the idea ridiculous or distracting and drop the subject.
Least to his knowledge, he was literally digging his own grave.
"It’s a deal then," Cissel suddenly said after a long pause. A weird expression crossed her face—one John couldn’t quite decipher. It was a mixture of genuine shock, brief hesitation, and a deep, hidden embarrassnt.
She suddenly shifted her eyes away from him, focusing on the distant fog. "I’ll wait for that day... After we get back. Don’t think you’re getting out of this promise, by any ans."
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