A pang of loneliness struck him.
He had Rian and Amy, but Rian attended a different school, and Amy was in her final year.
Neid: "Huh? Shirone, you heading out? Let's go together."
Shirone: "Neid."
He didn't even need to look.
Neid always appeared without fail when Shirone stayed late, keeping him company.
What did it matter if he was everyone's friend?
On days like this, his kindness felt like rain after a drought.
As they walked out, they talked about magic and grades—topics Shirone loved, and Neid effortlessly matched his wavelength.
Neid: "The library has plenty of books, but research clubs also have specialized texts. Speaking of, didn't you get an invite earlier? That's a pretty solid club. Why'd you turn it down?"
Shirone: "I just don't have the time."
Neid: "Well, you do need to focus on theory first. Still, I'm kinda jealous—I don't even have that kind of motivation."
Shirone gave him a curious look.
Shirone: "You've got tons of friends. Wouldn't joining a club be easy for you?"
Neid: "Wait, did I never mention it? I'm already in one. Believe it or not, I'm the president."
Shirone: "Really? I had no idea."
Now that he thought about it, he'd never asked.
He'd assumed Neid disliked formal groups, but that was clearly a misjudgment.
Shirone: "What kind of club is it?"
Neid: "Haha! Honestly, it's kinda embarrassing to brag about. There are only two members—including me."
Shirone: "Wouldn't that fall below the minimum requirement? You wouldn't get funding either."
Even as a voluntary organization, the school mandated at least three members—one was a "singular," two a "pair," and three or more a "group."
Neid: "Well… Last year, our seniors graduated. So I inherited the presidency. It's been a bit of a worry."
Shirone: "Graduated?"
Countless clubs existed, but very few had graduating members.
Passing the final exams meant they were exceptional seniors—something rare.
Shirone's curiosity grew.
Shirone: "Mind if I check it out?"
Neid: "Seriously? I thought you weren't interested in clubs."
Shirone: "I've always been curious. But I didn't want to burden anyone, so I hesitated to join."
Neid: "Pfft—what? Clubs are just kids studying and hanging out. No need to stress over it."
Shirone: "Hmm, you think?"
Neid: "Honestly, I've always felt you're kinda hard to approach. Mature, I guess? Most of us mess around and say dumb stuff. Even in Class Five, there are troublemakers, but most are decent if you get to know them. Try loosening up a little."
It was advice worth taking to heart.
Looking back, both Rian and Amy had been the ones to reach out first.
I wasn't like this before. Have I been too tense without realizing?
Truthfully, ever since joining the Ozent family, he'd rarely felt at ease.
Noticing Shirone's pensive expression, Neid suddenly grinned.
Neid: "You know what? This is a special occasion—I'll introduce you to our club. But no laughing if it's lame, deal?"
Shirone: "Really? I'd appreciate that."
Neid: "Ugh, there you go again. Since when do friends say 'thank you'? C'mon—prepare to be amazed!"
Neid led him to a secluded area northwest of the central park.
A colony of over a hundred tetrahedral buildings formed a labyrinthine structure.
The iron structures bore intricate magic engravings up close, defying conventional architecture.
Shirone was stunned from the moment he saw it.
Shirone: "Where is this?"
Neid: "The school's magic storage warehouse. Holds almost all our teaching materials. Including our clubroom."
Research rooms weren't assigned permanently.
Club presidents submitted applications, and the school provided available spaces—but a warehouse?
In a campus this vast, giving them such a remote spot made no sense.
Neid: "This place has been our seniors' hideout for generations. Our club's history runs deep. You wouldn't believe the fights we've had to keep it."
Shirone: "But this is…"
Neid: "Haha! Don't worry. The best part? This warehouse is stocked with endless materials. We can make anything. Oh, but that's a secret—just for you."
Shirone: "Wait—really?!"
He was shocked.
Neid, the epitome of an average student, was secretly breaking school rules?
Neid: "Follow me. I'll show you."
They entered the maze-like structure—multiple entrances, interconnected paths, a true puzzle.
Neid: "Cool, right? But don't bother memorizing it. We change the layout whenever we feel like it."
Shirone: "You can do that?!"
Neid: "This place is officially called 'The Magical Warehouse Estus.' The building itself is a magic device. Moving the structure to the exit is faster than fetching items manually—efficiency in storage and transport. On practical exam days, the layout shifts constantly. Meaning? No one can ever find us."
He cackled mischievously.
A hideout no one can locate.
Shirone's heart raced—proof he was just like any other boy his age.
Neid: "The trick to navigating is simple, but I can't tell you yet—you're not a member. But if you're interested, just say the word. We'd love to have you."
Neid swiftly guided him through twenty storage rooms.
Finally, they reached a building with blue-painted walls—the largest among a cluster of ten.
Neid: "Ta-da! We're here! This is it!"
Shirone approached nervously. What kind of research required such secrecy?
A crooked sign hung on the iron door:
"Paranormal Spiritual Science Research Club."
Shirone: "S-Spiritual science?!"
He had imagined countless possibilities—but this wasn't one of them.
Neid excitedly rambled:
Neid: "So? Isn't our club amazing? We study the supernatural—ghosts, souls, the afterlife, aliens, hell, gods. Everything."
At first, it sounded absurd, but Shirone realized he wasn't entirely disinterested.
One topic, in particular, caught his attention:
Gods.
Some mages denied divine existence.
Though religions and miracle-working priests existed, their powers were often seen as just another branch of magic.
Conversely, some believers dismissed magic as heresy—a distorted form of divine miracles.
Who's right?
Do gods truly exist?
Shirone: "This… could actually be interesting. I'm not sure how it connects to magic, but it's worth exploring."
Neid: "Right? I knew you'd get it! C'mon in—make yourself at home."
He swung the door open—revealing not a tidy study, but a dust-choked mess.
Shirone: "Pff—!"
The sheer amount of dust from one swing made him grimace.
The 15-pyeong (~50 m²) room was a disaster.
A broken-legged desk, moldy bread, and crumpled papers littered the table.
They said they renovated the warehouse…
The only renovation seemed to be the sign.
Neid: "Hahaha! A bit dirty, huh? You'll get used to it. Just come in!"
Shirone didn't understand why he had to adapt instead of them cleaning.
But his doubts vanished the moment he spotted the chalkboard.
A boy scribbled equations at lightning speed on a tilted board.
Shirone's eyes widened.
Shirone: "Huh?!"
It was Iruki—the same boy suspended for a week.
Before Shirone could react, Neid awkwardly explained:
Neid: "Sorry, our club's kinda infamous. We can't reveal members openly."
Now it made sense why Iruki was close to Neid—but the Paranormal Club?
A logic-driven prodigy in an unscientific research group?
Shirone: "Iruki is into this stuff?"
Neid: "Actually, the opposite. He's our critic. That guy believes everything has a logical explanation. What better target than this?"
Mid-conversation, Iruki finally noticed them and lit up.
Iruki: "Shirone?!"
Before Shirone could respond, Iruki grabbed his shoulders and shook him violently.
Iruki: "Perfect timing! I just had a revolutionary idea! Listen—what if we split the smallest particle of matter? You'd think, 'It's already the smallest, how?' That's the point! If you split it, it stops being matter! Then what is it?! I crunched numbers for three days—and guess what?! There's unbelievable energy inside! If we could harness this—what do you think would happen?! Quick, tell me!"
His words were a rapid-fire barrage—Shirone barely processed them.
But the blazing intensity in Iruki's eyes demanded an answer.
Shirone: "Uh… energy release?"
Iruki: "A cataclysmic explosion! One so massive it could erase a city! Can you imagine?! Can you?!"
Shirone was utterly dumbfounded.
Of course, he could imagine it—but the thought was too horrifying to entertain.
Shirone: "If something like that happens, countless people will die."
Iruki: "What do you mean? An explosion—I'm talking about an explosion! The entire city will be wiped out!"
Shirone: "Exactly! If an explosion occurs, what happens to the people living there?"
Iruki: "People living there?"
Iruki tilted his head in confusion, making the situation even more absurd.
Shirone (disgusted): "Don't tell me you've never even considered that?"
Iruki: "Of course not. Why would I need to think about that?"
Shirone felt a surge of irritation.
If Iruki had coldly dismissed human lives as meaningless, it would have been easier to accept.
'What the hell is going on inside his head?'
Shirone (accusingly): "How can you think like that? As a mage, how can you not consider the consequences of your magic on the world? What about the people who'll suffer because of it?"
Iruki (smirking): "How naïve, Shirone. It's not that other mages choose not to—they simply can't. The genius granted to us exists solely to accomplish the impossible."
Shirone (firmly): "I don't care about genius! If your so-called 'genius' can only hurt others, I'd rather be a fool!"
Iruki didn't back down.
Iruki: "A handful of geniuses lead the masses of fools. History proves it—and so does the reality we live in. Shirone, I despise idealistic nonsense."
Shirone: "No, your logic is the one drowning in defeatism. Ideals can be realized!"
Iruki: "They're called 'ideals' because they're not reality."
Neid (intervening anxiously): "Hey, hey—let's stop this. Discussion is fine, but not a shouting match. Sit down and talk calmly."
Shirone (coldly): "No. I have nothing left to say. Neid, I'm leaving."
Shirone stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
Neid had never seen the usually gentle Shirone act so coldly—he must have been truly furious.
Neid (calling after him): "W-Wait! Shirone! You can't navigate the halls alone—"
Shirone (from outside): "Leave me alone. The layout hasn't changed. I remember the way back. If I can't even do that, then I really am a fool."
By the time Neid opened the door, Shirone was already gone.
When Neid returned, he frowned at Iruki.
Neid: "What was that? You could've explained it in a way he'd understand."
Iruki (shrugging): "Who knows? I admit I was a bit aggressive. But he is my rival, after all."
Neid (stunned): "…What?"
It was rare for Iruki to call anyone a rival.
Not out of arrogance—Neid knew him as someone utterly indifferent to competition.
'No, it's not just competition.'
Romance, wealth, fame—nothing moved Iruki. The only thing he cared about was the pursuit of what he considered the world's most beautiful equations.
Neid (incredulous): "Shirone is your rival? Are you serious?"
Iruki chuckled and sank into the sofa, sending a cloud of dust into the air.
Iruki: "You saw Shirone's early promotion exam, right?"
Neid: "Yeah. That's why he's in our class now."
Iruki: "Do you know how fast your thoughts have to be to escape the Dragon's Labyrinth using instant transmission—especially as a beginner at Level 10?"
When Neid stayed silent, Iruki tapped his own temple.
Iruki: "It's impossible without extreme temporal fragmentation. By my calculations, Shirone split time into increments of at least one ten-thousandth of a second."
Neid (whispering): "One ten-thousandth…"
As Neid tried to fathom that, Iruki let out a metallic laugh.
Iruki: "That's the mystery of insight—faster than effort, more precise than knowledge. No conscious calculation can match intuition. But Neid…"
His eyes gleamed.
Iruki: "What if it were me?"
The question hung in the air: Between Shirone's insight and Iruki's calculations, which was truly faster?
Neid (shivering): "..."
It was impossible to know.
The thought of their clash was like pitting mythical beasts against each other—Neid shuddered at the mere idea.