I once heard a phrase that stuck with me ever since I was a kid:
"Knowledge is power."
Back then, it was just something people said. A cliché.
Now?
It was my lifeline.
In a world where others trained mana, summoned beasts, or wielded elements with a flick of their hands—I had none of that. My mana leaked like a broken faucet. My stamina was barely average. My status screen was a joke.
But I had Understanding.
And with it, I could still win.
---
The city was awake by the time I returned from my early morning training.
I didn't stay long at the dorm. Just long enough to drop off my sword, clean myself up, and convince Ruby to stop pestering me about "overexertion protocols."
> "You trained for over four hours, Master! That's highly inefficient according to your biological metrics!"
"Inefficient?" I yawned. "Ruby, if I die, that's the most inefficient thing possible."
She buzzed, grumbled something under her breath, and docked back into sleep mode.
---
The library—known locally as The Libra—was off-campus.
Nestled in the heart of the city, between the government complex and a cafe strip, it was one of the few public-access libraries still operating with a hybrid system of digital and physical media. A hidden gem, really.
Not many students bothered going there anymore.
They relied on their mana-assistants, AI tutors, and magical simulations for their studies.
Me?
I relied on books.
And the memories of a game that wasn't supposed to be real.
---
The Libra was massive.
An ancient building wrapped in vines of arcane circuitry and clean steel beams. Glowing blue inscriptions ran along the walls, constantly shifting between languages. The outer structure looked old, preserved, but once I stepped inside…
The silence hit me first.
Then the scent—paper, ink, ozone.
Digital terminals floated in the air, anchored by mana cores. Floor after floor of reference tomes, schematics, historical archives, and experimental logs stretched into the ceiling.
A floating sign hovered over the center hub:
"Search Freely. Learn Eternally."
---
I spent hours there.
Reading. Absorbing.
Blueprints for magi-tech prosthetics.
Combat theory guides written by war veterans.
Notes on runic destabilization.
Biological studies on monsters and dungeon-born species.
Even some obscure lore on failed inventions that never made it to market.
I didn't just read—I understood.
My [Understanding] trait was like cheating. I could pick apart a design in minutes. Visualize the flow of energy, predict failure points, identify how to streamline a weapon without even building it.
Somewhere around the fifth hour, I caught a glimpse of myself in a reflective window.
Glasses slightly crooked. Hair tied back. Eyes dark from lack of sleep.
I looked like a mad scholar.
Good.
---
I left the library with a backpack full of digital notes and three borrowed manuals.
I also left with ideas.
Too many ideas.
A mana-stabilized recoil damper.
An invention to offset my mana leakage by converting it into compressed physical energy.
A theory for an anti-magic net made from copper-threaded glyph wire.
---
The sun was setting when I returned to my dorm.
The sky painted the city in golds and reds, the buildings casting long shadows like titans.
That's when I saw it.
A box.
Sitting right at my door.
Wrapped in plain packaging. No label. No sender.
I stopped walking.
I stared.
It took me a full minute before I moved again.
Could be a trap.
Could be nothing.
Could be something old Axel had ordered before… you know.
I crouched.
Ran my fingers along the edge. No magic signatures. No ticking. No spell runes.
I picked it up.
Heavy.
Metal inside, maybe. Or tools.
Ruby blinked to life on my shoulder.
> "It wasn't here when you left, Master."
I nodded, slowly.
"Let's open it inside."
---
After a thorough inspection, I opened the box on the floor.
What I found inside…
Tools.
High-quality crafting tools.
Precision screwdrivers, micro-calibrated tuning forks, a shock-resistant fabrication lens set, and a custom blueprint folder with Axel Calford written across it in a flowing hand.
There was a letter too.
Just one line, written in pen:
> "If you're still alive… then it's your turn to finish what I started."
– A.C.
I stared at the initials.
Old Axel. The one whose life I had replaced.
The one no one remembered.
The one who had clearly been building something.
---
I leaned back.
The sun was gone now.
Darkness settled over the dorm.
I looked at the tools. At the blueprint folder. At my sword resting against the wall. Then up at the ceiling.
Academy starts tomorrow.
A place full of main characters. Monsters in human skin. Talented, ambitious, politically entangled kids who didn't even know they were NPCs in a story too big to control.
But I knew the rules.
I knew the hidden quests. The event flags. The secrets.
They were playing the game.
I was trying to survive it.
---
I closed my eyes.
Inhaled slowly.
Then opened them again.
Sharp. Focused.
Tomorrow begins the long game.
No one would notice me.
But that was the point.
The smartest pieces on the board aren't the ones shouting. They're the ones you never see coming.