Evelyn stood in front of Yuri's crumpled body, her shadow falling over him like a silent judgnt.
For a long mont, she didn't say anything.
She just looked down at him—at the broken, bleeding figure who had pushed her this far. Her fingers flexed around the grip of her bow, knuckles tightening, jaw clenched.
Yuri coughed again, his breaths shallow and wet.
"…You think you've won?" he rasped, blood trailing from the corner of his mouth.
Evelyn didn't reply imdiately.
Then she knelt beside him, her voice cold and quiet.
"No," she said. "I know I didn't win."
Her eyes narrowed.
"You beat . Fair and square."
Yuri blinked, disoriented. "What…?"
Evelyn shook her head slightly, more to herself than to him.
"I was careless. I let my guard down. I relied too much on assumptions—on pride."
She stood again, gaze sharp, bitter.
"You would've killed if Lucas hadn't stepped in."
Her words hung heavy in the air.
Lucas watched from a distance, silent.
He knew that tone. That bitter self-awareness. It wasn't anger directed outward—it was disappointnt turned inward. A feeling Evelyn rarely showed. She hated losing, but what she hated even more was being saved.
Yuri tried to speak again, but his body gave out. He slumped sideways, groaning.
Evelyn turned away.
Not out of rcy—but because there was nothing more to say.
Lucas stepped up beside her, eyes flicking toward the wounded enemy.
"He's finished. We should move."
"Yeah."
But Evelyn didn't move right away. She took one last look at Yuri, then at her own trembling hands.
"…Next ti," she muttered.
Lucas tilted his head. "Hm?"
She didn't look at him.
"Next ti, I won't need your help."
Lucas raised an eyebrow, then smirked faintly.
"I'll hold you to that."
With that, the two of them turned their backs on the fallen fighter and walked out of the clearing, leaving Yuri behind—broken, humiliated, and painfully aware of how close he'd co to victory… only to watch it crumble in a heartbeat.
[Cadet Yuri… You and your team have lost.]
The artificial voice echoed coldly in his mind, devoid of empathy, final in its judgnt.
Yuri let out a shaky breath, blood bubbling at the edge of his lips. His vision blurred, not just from pain but from sothing deeper—resignation. He stared up at the fractured sky above him, the virtual sun dimming slightly as the simulation began its shutdown protocol.
'It's ti to return to the original world.'
The words struck a different kind of wound—one not of flesh, but of pride.
A pale blue light began to flicker beneath his body, forming a slowly rotating magic circle. Data particles peeled away from him, like dust dissolving into wind.
He couldn't move. He didn't even try.
His fingers twitched beside his shattered spear, and a bitter smile crept onto his bloodied face.
"…Tch," he exhaled, the sound dry and cracked.
All that planning. All that effort. He'd been so sure.
He should have won.
If only Lucas hadn't interfered.
But deep down, he knew that wasn't the real reason.
He lost because he underestimated Evelyn.
Because he overestimated himself.
Because he hesitated.
The simulation's light surged brighter now, swallowing his body in shimring particles. In seconds, he would wake up in the real world—still alive, physically unhard, but with sothing irreplaceable shattered inside.
His pride.
His rank.
His illusion of control.
And as the last pieces of his virtual form began to fade, Yuri closed his eyes.
"…Next ti," he whispered, echoing Evelyn's words.
But his were laced with sothing darker.
Regret.
Rage.
And the seed of revenge.
Then, in a blink, he was gone.
Across the clearing, Lucas glanced back at the now-empty space where Yuri had lain.
He didn't say anything.
Just kept walking.
Beside him, Evelyn adjusted her grip on her bow. Her breathing was steadier now, but the stiffness in her shoulders hadn't faded.
Lucas noticed.
"…Still thinking about it?"
Evelyn didn't answer at first.
Then she nodded.
"I should've finished that on my own."
Lucas gave a low hum. "You'll get your chance."
"Yeah," she muttered. "Next ti…"
"Well for now we won. That's all the matters."
"Yeah we did."
They walked in silence.
But sowhere, deep in the quiet hum of the system, another AI voice recorded Yuri's final score.
And in another part of the academy—
Yuri opened his eyes.
-----
Fuuuuaaa
As the top of the capsule opened and steam slowly rose in the air, I steadily stood up and stretched my neck. Frowning slightly, I couldn't help but think to myself.
'…Did I perhaps overdo it?'
Interlocking my fingers and raising my hands in the air as I stretched my body to increase the blood circulation, I looked back at the ga that we had just played.
Although we won, I wasn't happy.
This ga once again shed light on the things that I had to work on.
…Yes, everything went according to how I predicted it would go. At least on how the opposite team behaved…not so much on my side.
Turning my head around and briefly glancing at Evelyn who had her head held down, I softly said to her.
"You did good"
Raising her head slightly and staring at , Evelyn weakly nodded her head and got out of the capsule. Subsequently, she walked towards the exit of the VR grounds.
Staring at Evelyn back, sighing inwardly, I didn't say anything else. It was evident that she held herself accountable for almost losing.
In reality, it was my fault.
It was .
I had made a couple of miscalculations in my plans.
…although I didn't place much hope in Evelyn beating two guys, I didn't expect her to downright almost lose. The plan was for her to hold them back…I thought that she could've accomplished such a task considering her strength…but I was wrong.
Perhaps I was too confident in her…or perhaps I was too inexperienced. In the end, the plan had almost failed.
Looking back at it now, there were several points where things could've gone sideways—permanently.
The mont I saw Evelyn on one knee, panting and trembling, a part of knew that if I had hesitated even a few seconds longer, Yuri would've killed her.
That wasn't just a "near-miss." That was failure.
I clenched my jaw.
This wasn't a normal mock battle. The academy made sure these simulations were as close to real combat as possible, down to the pain response and energy depletion. Had this been a real warzone, Evelyn would've died. And that—was on .
I should've predicted the unexpected. I should've been there earlier.
I should've known she'd try to take them both on instead of retreating when the odds were against her.
Letting out a slow breath, I turned away from the VR capsule and made my way toward the observation deck. The data screen was still active, displaying our scores and evaluations. Evelyn's performance had been graded as "B ," though the system noted heavy stamina loss, critical injury risk, and ntal focus lapses.
Mine… was an "A."
Not "A ."
Just an "A."
A cold, detached reminder that the system had picked up on my hesitation—on my delay. The AI didn't care about context. It only judged outcos.
And outcos didn't lie.
We survived. We won.
But it wasn't clean.
I leaned forward, resting both hands against the table as I stared at the stats. My reflection in the screen looked calm—but I knew better. Beneath that, I was unsettled.
Not because we'd almost lost.
But because we didn't have to.
That was the part that bothered most.
"Huaaam…"
Yawning out loud, I took a step out of the capsule. As I did, I swore to myself.
'Next ti, I won't make the sa mistake again. Next ti…I'll make sure to thoroughly crush my opponent with the lowest possible percentage of failure"
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