â The Hooligan and Unfairly Admitted Student (3) â
The student newspaperâs front-page article that day thoroughly covered the eating and playing journey that Kleio and the boy had taken thus far. Kleio was pressing his forehead as a migraine had begun to take hold of him. The article was a big problem on two fronts.
He had no intention of spreading notoriety. Whatever direction it went, he was against fame in any form.
Why, of all people, was the bastard he happened to encounter be Arthur Riognan?
The events in -Albion Kingdomâs Prince- happened with the protagonist right in the middle of them. Characters around him were swept up in the waves of history, whether they liked it or not. That was the power of the central character who lead the narrative.
Kleio genuinely didnât want to even be in the same room with a guy like him. Now that he was here, he wanted to have a few choice words with this author.
âYou said, âEven a picture of a young god wouldnât be as gorgeous as Arthur Riognan!â What god were you talking about?! He doesnât even give the impression of a noble familyâs hooligan; he looks like some homeless vagrant!â
He knew that the story was being rewritten, but he never expected that Arthur would be like this.
âThinking about it, making the dagger sparkle was his sword aura! He was checking if I would recognize it or not.â
Kleio fell into thought. Was it the authorâs intention to make him and Arthur meet? And, if so, what was the plot were they pursuing with that?
âWhat can I do when they donât tell me anything and just carelessly roll out the plot?â
His head continued to ache. In the middle of that, Behemoth, who had read the newspaper, ran around the entire bedroom in a fit of anger.
âHow dare you go around guzzling alcohol like that without even giving one glass to this cat?â
âAh⦠hey⦠is that the problem you see with this?â
âIt is. Itâs exactly the problem! Not offering Budigala wine to this cat! There definitely shouldâve been some Bishopâs Tower wine from 1875 in the professorsâ dormâs storeroom!â
âGeez, Master Moth is truly an expert.â
âThatâs right. When it comes to alcohol, then this cat is an expert. If you had the key, then you should have promptly informed me!â
âYou go around anywhere you want, even without a key.â
âThereâs a temperature-preserving barrier in the storeroom, so a marvelous lifeform like this cat cannot secretly go inside meeooow!â
While his headache was slowly getting worse, Nebo suddenly opened the door with an oddly stunned expression.
âHey, Headmaster Zebedee is calling for you. A consultation, right now.â
âAlrightâ¦â
âYouâre actually a really astonishing guy. Heh, how can you not let one week go by quietly?â
âI wasnât planning on that. I was thinking of getting expelled with missed attendances!â
.
.
.
Kleio arrived at the hallway in front of the headmasterâs office, feeling like a noose was hanging over his head. Maybe there was a previous guest, as in front of the closed headmasterâs office door, he saw a student waiting for punishment. It was obviously the person who had been called over for the same reason as Kleio. Noticing Kleioâs presence, the boy turned around to look.
Tall, wide shoulders, neatly smoothed, and thick blond hair. It was late in the afternoon, so the long rays of sunlight that came in through the window shone on the boyâs blonde hair and made it look like he had a halo. His eyes were fierce and strong, and his face could be described as beautiful. He sure could remember useless sentences well, thanks to Promiseâs ãMemoryã. The sharpness of his face that would bring souls to tears, or the blue-green of his eyes that was like the boundary where the waters of the north and west seas metâ¦
âWere you called over, too? When Headmaster Zebedee starts preaching, itâll take at least twenty minutes by default, so what should we do?â
ââ¦The way he speaks hasnât changed.â
Kleio acknowledged that Leo, who had washed and cut his hair and wore his uniform properly⦠was indeed âthatâ Arthur.
Arthur âLeonidâ Riognan. The protagonist of -Albion Kingdomâs Prince-. The kingdomâs 3rd prince, who would become king someday.
âThat kind of guy goes around catching birds while looking like a homeless person, so how could I tell?!â
Kleio was furious.
âYou said you were Leo.â
âI am Leo.â
âHah, crap.â
âKleio Asel. You told me you were Lei, too.â
âYou donât need to know my name at all.â
âHow can I unlearn something I already know?â
âThen, forget it. It was ill fortune to meet you, so letâs never meet again.â
âThere should be some affection from drinking together for a week; why are you acting that cold?â
Kleio tried his hardest to look away from the boy whose eyes pierced through him.
âAuthor, I donât know what youâre intending, but I completely refuse any development where I get involved with the protagonist. And, in the first place, why do I have to help you?â
As he nervously thought it over, Kleio immediately remembered Editorâs Authority.
âAlright, letâs turn it back.â
It was regretful that he could only use it three times per chapter, but if he didnât use it in times like this, then when would he? The greatest method to end an incident was to make it, so it didnât begin in the first place. Simply put, they just had to not meet in the cafeteria. He would return to that cafeteria, no, the lecture room on Monday morning. He didnât know if the author would listen to his suggestion or not, but it would be better than not trying. If his luck was good, maybe the authorâs intentions could be conveyed to him tooâeverything about exactly why they wanted him to do the revision âtogether with them.
âThough even if I know, I donât necessarily have any obligation to follow their demands. Why do I have to do it?â
Kleio recalled the previous sensation and brought up the Editorâs Authority in his mind. The back of his hand grew hot as those gold strings of letters unfurled in front of his eyes.
[âYou are using the Inherent Skill: Editorâs Authority (2/3).]
[âRemaining Time / Time Limit:
00:00:14 / 00:00:15]
Soon the manuscript bundle appeared. When he went back two or so pages of the still dusty and ragged pages, Mondayâs cafeteria scene promptly appeared. Kleio gripped the pen and drew around them, writing âdelete everything underneath.â But what came back was different from before.
[âThe author does not accept the editorâs suggestion.]
[âEditorâs Authority will not be applied without the authorâs approval.]
The manuscript in his hands disappeared. Jungjin wasnât surprised. No matter how generously they acted, an author was an author. There was no reason that hopelessly petulant and singled-minded people would listen easily to another personâs words.
Arthur stepped closer to Kleio as he observed him fuming.
âAre you hurt somewhere? Whyâre you sweating so much?â
âMind your own business.â
Kleio didnât even turn around to look at Arthur as he invoked Editorâs Authority again.
âI have to block it now and strike the iron while itâs hot. I canât give up with just one try. If it canât be turned back that far, then letâs lower my expectations a bit.â
[âYou are using the Inherent Skill: Editorâs Authority (3/3).
Caution: You have reached the limit of its usage in the relevant chapter.]
[âRemaining Time / Time Limit:
00:00:14 / 00:00:15]
Fifteen seconds was too short a time to examine the contents as Kleio frantically rummaged through the manuscript. There was a plausible sentence in the last one written. Arthur was described as feeling both curiosity and suspicion towards Kleio.
âLetâs fix this.â
Striking through the original sentence, he scribbled in [Arthur grew tired of Kleio, who was losing his temper over receiving the headmasterâs summons.].
Perhaps because he had never written a line of fiction before except for in cover letters and resumes, the sentence was lousy, to say the least.
âCan I help it? I have to live first! There, apply!â
Just then, he had a feeling like an intense gaze was piercing through him. Turning around while holding the pen, Kleio was face to face with Arthur, who had come closer than before. The smile on Arthurâs face was gone, and his face was cold as a statue.
ââ¦This guy couldnât have moved, right? No way.â
When he had used the skill before, Isiel and Nebo had frozen still. Even Behemoth hadnât realized what was happening. But Arthur was different. The boyâs eyes closed, and slowly and with great difficulty, they opened again. The eyes of Kleio Asel, who was using Editorâs Authority, and Arthur Riognan, who had become the target of the skill, met again.
âHow?!â
Light a mixture of blue and gold burst out around the two boys like an explosion had gone off.
[âArthur Riognan is an existence deeply involved with the worldâs composition.
Because of the userâs insufficient level of narrative intervention, the user cannot exert their influence.]
[âWith the excessive revision attempt, the original text of -Albion Kingdomâs Prince-, â¡â¡â¡â¡âs Palimpsest⦠is being scratched⦠plausibility⦠is⦠damageâ¦]
The world that was crumbling and breaking down soon fit back together piece by piece to how it originally was, like a mosaic. In the midst of the shock of the background being reformed, Kleio bent down. The fragments of shining letters were embedded into his mind like they were being engraved in him.
âSâ¦stop. Enough! Cancel skill!!!â
[âIn -Albion Kingdomâs PrinceâFinal Manuscript-, portions of the paragraphs before the amendment are mixed randomly.
âThe narrativeâs internal consistency has dropped.]
Blood dripped from his nose, trickling down to his knees. Black blood slowly seeped out of the back of Arthurâs hand, too, as if he had received a deep wound.
âKleio, whatâ¦did youâ¦â