I sat in the back seat of their old Toyota, lazily watching the neighborhoods float by. A good family. Leon's dad is kind, cozy in a good way. But his son's dreams... are strange. Saving the world, climbing into the jaws of monsters... Well, let him do what he wants, if he likes playing hero so much.

  Right now, I was much more annoyed by this damn bracelet on my wrist. The moment I tried to release mana outward, this piece of iron would start vibrating and shocking me. Sure, I could easily break it, but they didn't give it to me for nothing, right? The maximum I could manage was to summon a light draft that only made the curtains flutter. Irritating.

  Inside my body, however, the bracelet didn't hinder me. I knew how to channel mana through my veins, concentrating it sometimes in my legs, sometimes in my arms. My body became light and responsive, like a taut string.

  And by the way... Heh-heh. I imagined the face of my old-man roommate and almost burst out laughing. Before leaving, I scooped absolutely all the cutlery out of the drawer. Every single spoon, fork, and knife. Let's see how you eat your rice now, old man! Taste the freedom... and eating with your hands.

  We arrived at school, and I trudged to classes. A strange world. I could feel with my skin that there was mana in the air, it flows in every person, but for some reason, no one uses it. It's as if they are holding the most powerful flashlights, yet they sit in the dark and are afraid to strike a match. It shouldn't be like this. Not like this at all.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  And Leon with his tricks... I wasn't imagining things yesterday. That guy really tried to crack my head open like a tin can. Why? What did he hope to find in there? My head is already as empty as an abandoned basement.

  Classes dragged on endlessly. Biology—boredom. Chemistry—boredom. Physics—strictly for kids. I didn't know where I got this knowledge, but the moment the teacher opened his mouth, my brain immediately provided the ready answer, as if I had written these textbooks myself once upon a time.

  Finally, the last class—physical education. We were herded into the gym, handed some orange bumpy ball, and told it was "basketball". The rules? Throw the ball into the hoop. Couldn't be simpler.

  "Alright, Arkgrim, stand on the three-point line," the PE teacher commanded.

  I stood there. A light effort, a throw. The ball traced a perfect arc and fell through the net with a soft swish. What are they so happy about? It's simply on the level of intuition. Hitting the basket is easier than putting a spoon in your mouth (unless your roommate stole it, of course).

  Then the game itself began. That four-armed kid stood against me. What was his name... Mark? To be honest—a weakling. Sure, genetics rewarded him with an extra pair of limbs, but he uses them like a paralytic. He tried to block my path, waving all four paws around, but to me, he moved like he was in slow motion. One fleeting movement, a dash—and I was already behind him with the ball. Taking that ball from him was easier than taking candy from a first-grader.

  By the end of the class, all the classmates looked pathetic. Breathing heavily, dripping with sweat, faces red... Leon could barely stand on his feet either.

  "Ugh..." I wrinkled my nose and stepped further away. "You guys stink. Do you even know what a shower is?"

  I stood there, not even having broken a sweat or caught my breath, and looked at them with genuine bewilderment.