I have plenty of options to experiment with, regarding my Imagination Manifestation, but little to explore all of them, so I needed to pick as few options as possible and stick with them.
Nothing too complex, just simple and effective.
As I thought about my option, the water assailant fired 2 bursts of water toward me at high speeds.
Out of reflex, I managed to dodge both of them. I wanted to celebrate that little achievement, but there was something more concerning to worry about.
Did he just attack with little regard for the bystanders!?
I wanted to turn around and check if they hit anyone, but my opponent took priority.
I thrust my arm toward him, sending a telekinetic force, intending to pin them to the wall.
He vaulted over the wave of telekinetic force by blasting a torrent of water to propel him up and over.
On reflex, a red dodgeball appeared and flew toward his head.
He swatted it away with a hand covered in water.
I jumped forward, out of the way of where he would’ve landed.
Although I’ve managed to dodge him, I ended up in a more vulnerable position.
He turned around and slowly walked toward my lying form, forming a tendril of water.
When I saw the tendril, perverted things resurfaced in my memories.
With no compromise, I visualized an invisible force enveloping the water assailant. The same force I had used to send him back. In my mind, the force stuck to him like a blob of slime.
His expressions and demeanor changed, shifting oddly in place.
So, he feels it.
Feeling more certain about the visualization, I sent the cocoon of invisible force with him inside toward the ceiling, this time refusing to release my focus on the invisible cocoon.
Water assailant was stuck to the ceiling, struggling like a fly in a sticky trap.
Looks like I can’t bring myself to kill so easily.
I looked around, seeing the reactions of everyone nearby. There was a mix of astonishment, fear, surprise, and joy among the crowd’s expressions. It made me wonder what everyone’s impression of the water assailant was. Was his behavior considered normal?
I heard his extremely loud grunts resounding from the ceiling. His arms broke free from the invisible blob I restrained him with. He pointed his arm toward me.
I ‘refreshed’ the visualization of him being pinned to the ceiling by the amorphous blob of force, restricting his arms once more. I double-checked to make sure the same also applied to his legs.
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Looks like these kinds of visualizations require continuous focus.
As I thought of theories about the permanence of certain visualizations, a voice boomed across the cafeteria.
It was the old man’s.
Wonderful.
…
Mr. Blonde and I were subjected to a ceaseless rant. Although I didn’t understand a thing that came out of his mouth, from his movements, I guessed it was a combination of the following:
Vocalizing his distrust of me.
Scolding Mr. Blonde for my dubious, and likely improper, enrollment in this school.
Indirectly scolding me through his complaints to Mr. Blonde.
And, based on his haughty tone, how he’d be superior to Mr. Blonde in certain aspects.
Although Mr. Blonde kept his smile and composure, the way he furrowed his brows told me all I needed to know about the validity of such a claim.
You really need to fire him or at least convince him to retire.
The old man’s words continued for what felt like an hour, and each passing second only increased my admiration and respect toward Mr. Blonde for his boundless patience.
What could you possibly know about him to be this tolerant?
I stood next to the old man, tuning out his indecipherable words.
I should’ve brought my summoner’s and my trays. Eating in front of him would emphasize how little I cared for his words. Would’ve been nice to see his reaction.
If I had known I would be standing here this long, I would’ve prioritized preserving our meals.
Why did I have to be so quick to obey?
The sound of Mr. Blonde clearing his throat brought me out of my thoughts. Both he and the old man were looking expectantly at me.
Oh… It’s my turn now.
What exactly am I supposed to do?
I gave Mr. Blonde a confused look.
He knelt to open a drawer at his desk, rummaging through it. Seconds later, he pulled out my comic book.
He wants an explanation?
That comic book was the only means I had to explain why I ended up misplacing my room 61 key. I couldn’t help but feel grateful he kept it. It saves me from the headache of having to sort through visualizations and manifestations just to reach the message I want to convey.
The only thing I need to figure out is what explanation he wants. Mr. Blonde deliberately revealed the comic book in front of the old man.
Does Mr. Blonde want me to provide an explanation to him?
What am I supposed to convey? The old man has been very open about his distrust of me. Would giving an explanation even accomplish anything?
I looked toward Mr. Blonde, reading his face in hopes of seeing a semblance of confirmation, affirmation, denial, rejection, or solemnity.
What does the old man want to know?
I heard a grunt from the old man, catching my attention.
He dug from underneath his robe and produced a deflated red dodgeball.
Why would you keep that, and where the hell did you store it?
I pushed away the thoughts, imagining where the ball had been.
You can keep that. I can always make more.
The dodgeball… I recalled cleaning up all the ones I had produced against my bout with my summoner. The only ones I didn’t clean up are…
Oh… wait, if they told him, then what’s water assailant doing with them?
If you were bullied and wanted that bully to be punished, you’d tell a teacher so that they’d discipline the bully, not another student to escalate things… right?
If the first teacher they told didn’t help them, it’d make more sense to try another one. But if those students were dissatisfied with the efficiency or lack thereof in disciplining the bully, they’d take matters into their own hands. If they believed teachers wouldn’t help, what would be, from their point of view, the next best option?
Retaliating against a bully themselves would be the ideal option, but if they’re intimidated, confrontation would be the last thing they’d think of. The next best option would be getting help from someone strong enough to contend with said bully.
Is water assailant really the best option they could think of? Why not Fireboy? He’s undoubtedly stronger and more chivalrous, and he’s not a bully.
I heard Mr. Blonde clear his voice once more, waving the comic book in his hand.
I looked to the old man, giving me the same suspicious glare as ever.
Seconds later, a cage of golden light enveloped the old man, causing him to shout in protest. It was similar to the one I was briefly imprisoned in with my summoner.
With nothing to interrupt me from making a comic, except needless noise, I got to work, starting from my fight between my summoner and me early in the morning.

