This happened several weeks before the great conflict between the Elf Kingdom and its neighboring nations erupted. At that ti, Rentaro Takamura had yet to be drawn into the vortex of politics and ancient magic shaking the continent. And his closest friend, Kiriya Asano, was in the midst of intensive training as part of their adaptation efforts in this new world.
Kiriya, a short-haired young man with razor-sharp eyes, was an Assassin—a combat class relying on agility, precision, and shadow strikes. Not a single movent was wasted, and every step he took seed shaped by deadly, disciplined training.
Unlike Ren, who only really knew Kiriya from their class back on Earth, Kiriya had beco familiar with almost everyone. His extroverted nature and social ease helped him blend in quickly—though ironically, the class he received upon being summoned to this world was the most "isolated" of all—Assassin, a bearer of shadowy, dirty work.
The class itself was impressive, but utterly mismatched with his personality. Even Kiriya found it laughable—being a silent killer felt like a cruel joke to his normally warm and outgoing nature.
Their party consisted only of high school students, all from the sa class, summoned mysteriously to another world. Thrown into a harsh new reality, they had no choice but to grow—or be left behind. There was no retreat, no room to protest their fate.
At the mont, Kiriya was on scouting duty near a goblin nest, a cave within a low-level dungeon they had originally thought was just another training ground. But what he saw inside sent a chill down his spine.
From the shadows, he watched—his body nearly invisible thanks to his existence-erasing skill. The goblins weren’t rely gathered—they were organized. They had ford sothing much more structured: a tribe.
"Hmph... Guess I was hoping too much for an isekai to be all sunshine and fantasy," Kiriya muttered under his breath, staring blankly at the scene. His expression wasn’t emotionless—it was the face of soone forcing down a truth too bitter to swallow.
He didn’t want to describe what he saw in detail. Even when he returned to the rest area, he chose his words carefully, offering only a rough summary.
He truly didn’t want to talk about it—not out of fear, but because of the surge of disgust and anger boiling in his chest.
Kiriya’s skills were perfect for missions like this—he could suppress his presence, erase himself from a creature’s sll and hearing, and slip through as if he were a shadow. In silent combat, he could be the last blade, striking without warning.
Upon returning, he imdiately reported his findings to the party. His face remained cold, but his eyes couldn’t hide the fury and frustration behind them.
"There are more than thirty goblins in there. They’re not just squatting in a room—they’ve built tents, an altar, even... a pen," he said flatly, his head dipping slightly as if holding back nausea.
His classmates exchanged confused looks. So let out nervous chuckles, hoping this was just another one of Kiriya’s dark jokes.
"Don’t joke around, Asano-san!" shouted a boy nad Mizuki, trying to brush it off with shaky defiance.
"Hey, I’m not joking..." Kiriya shot a sharp glance at Mizuki. His voice wasn’t raised, but carried enough weight to silence the others.
"What did you expect from a fantasy world? A place for fun? Co on! Even if it was, you didn’t really think this wouldn’t happen, did you?" His tone was more emotional than usual.
Everyone fell silent. Kiriya’s words struck like a slap of reality they had long been avoiding. This world wasn’t a ga. There were no checkpoints. No easy mode.
"So... are they alive?" a girl nad Haruno asked softly, her voice trembling, her hands pale and shaking.
"Of course... not," Kiriya replied, his voice cold and cutting. He glanced at Haruno briefly before turning his eyes back to the campfire.
"Think about it. What did you expect when they’re being kept as livestock?" he added. His words weren’t sarcasm—they were a grim judgnt of the cruel truth they now faced.
A heavy silence fell over the group. Even the night seed unwilling to break the mont.
So students began to cry quietly. Others looked down, struggling to hold back tears or anger.
Kiriya stood and walked away from the group. He knew staying there would only add to the emotional weight they were all carrying—and truthfully, he needed to breathe too.
This mission had originally been taken to search for a missing person in a low-tier dungeon. But as Kiriya scouted deeper into the goblin nest, he found that person... and as one might expect, it wasn’t a happy discovery.
Of course, it wasn’t anything good. And yeah... if only it had just been a corpse.
"Haaah..." Kiriya let out a long sigh, more of a defeated murmur than one of exhaustion. "At tis like this, I just want to go traveling with Ren... if it were him, he’d definitely have a solution."
Even though they were classmates, Kiriya had grown sick of most of the others. Hypocrites—the lot of them. Playing hero when things were safe, then pointing fingers the mont it got tough.
Even now, when they were supposed to be working together as a party, it didn’t feel like real teamwork. There was no trust—only the sense that everyone was waiting to see who would fall first.
Their teacher wasn’t much better. Claid he wanted to protect the students, but the truth? He vanished without a word—no explanation, no certainty—just dumped his responsibility and left.
(Note: Kiriya and Ren’s horoom teacher is currently entangled in royal political conflict—sothing too complicated to explain here. But still, it doesn’t erase the sense of abandonnt the students felt.)
Kiriya’s steps stopped at the edge of camp, near a flat rock under a withered tree. He sat down, arms folded, gaze blank as he stared into the night.
"Hey..." A soft voice greeted him, prompting him to glance to the side.
"Ah... Sakuragi-san?" he murmured, slightly surprised, though keeping his voice calm.
Hana Sakuragi—the class’s so-called prima donna, excelling at everything: academics, athletics, and of course... looks. Even in this foreign world, her graceful aura never faded.
She was also soone who had once liked Ren back in school. Though nothing had ever co of it, people still associated her with him, both back then and even now within the party. She rarely got the chance to speak directly with Ren, but through Kiriya, she managed to learn about him.
"I heard you just got back from scouting," she said as she sat down at the edge of the rock—not too close, but close enough to show she cared.
Kiriya nodded slowly. "Yeah... you could say that. Nothing pleasant to report, if that’s what you were hoping for."
Hana didn’t laugh. Her face was serious—somber, even—and that was rare for soone who always seed to wear a smile.
"I know... we were all hoping too much from this world." She looked down, tracing aimless patterns in the dirt with her finger. "But what you saw... was it really that bad?"
Kiriya looked at her for a mont. There was sothing in Hana’s voice—an honesty that wasn’t fake or performative, unlike most of their classmates.
"Worse," he finally replied. "If there was a word worse than ’little hell,’ I’d use it."
They sat in silence for a while. The night breeze drifted softly by, carrying the scent of damp earth and dungeon dust.
"Do you think we can survive this?" Hana asked quietly, almost like a whisper, her eyes still fixed on the ground.
Kiriya exhaled and looked up toward the dungeon ceiling. "I don’t know... But I think most of us still haven’t realized this isn’t a dream," he said softly, more to himself than to her.
"Yeah... they’re all still asleep in their fantasy," Hana nodded, her voice growing faint. She’d always been one of the few realists—never one to get swept up in the isekai euphoria like the others.
Actually, when Ren was about to leave the party so ti ago, Hana had been one of the few who tried to stop him. But, pushed by logic—and so persuasion from Kiriya—she held herself back. Still, a part of her heart had left with him that day.
"By the way..." Hana turned to Kiriya, trying to sound casual. "About Takamura-san..."
Kiriya raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusent in his tone. "Ren?"
"Yeah... haha," Hana replied with a nervous little laugh. A faint blush colored her cheeks before she quickly turned her face away, clearly flustered.
Kiriya smirked, replying with a dry sarcasm, "Sakuragi-san, we’ve got two Takamuras in class. If Ren hears you calling him that, he’ll probably insist you say Rentaro—with full-on tokusatsu flair and sound effects."
That made Hana laugh, truly laugh—and for a mont, the weight of the night seed to lift. The heavy mood between them eased a little, replaced with the warmth of shared mories and a bit of silly nostalgia.
"God, he really could make everything feel like a movie scene," Hana said, shaking her head with a smile. "But honestly... I miss how he could make complicated things feel simple."
Kiriya didn’t respond right away. He knew how Hana felt—he’d known for a long ti. But Ren was Ren—impossible to pin down, hard to predict, always one step ahead or far out of reach.
"If you really want to see him again," Kiriya said at last, his calm voice turning serious again, "then we’ve got to survive until that day cos."
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