22 Luck Comes in Many Forms

A new event was added to my days. It was after school, an hour after spending time with senior in the library. 

On my way back, I would take the longer path back home, the one that went near the back alleys and find the same blonde kid on his break from work.

"Ray!"

"You're here again? Come in as a customer sometime if you're going to be around so many times."

"I just take the path to say hi."

I was worried a bit that Ray might think I would reveal his secret, or even maybe that I was threatening him by coming here everyday.

Ray was someone more than just 'popular.' He was practically an idol in school. Popular kids who got along with other popular kids were mostly just annoyances, but that wasn't the case with this guy.

He could mingle with damn just about anyone. And anyone welcomed him with open arms as well. That was not possible with just some image creation, Ray was also a damn good person.

Usually, we would chat a bit during this time. Since Ray was also studious and I was completely ignoring my studies for novels, we usually ended up talking about studies. It was pretty fun.

My days were going pretty well.

The routines with Senior were slightly extending as well.

"Ubermensch? That concept is very controversial isn't it?" 

"It was because of Nietzsche's sister, yes. They used his philosophy to fit their agenda, but the concept is pretty good."

"Is that so? By the way, junior. Do you like cats more or dogs?"

What kind of question was that? 

"Cats, of course." Senior looked like a serious cat person too. I mean, a pale, thin, and fairly chic lady? She was pretty much a cat herself.

"Cats huh… I like dogs. I have five."

"How many!?"

Nash and Baldy too. We had become quick friends and would hang around most of the time during classes and between them.

We were all lazy as well, except Baldy, he was always eager to play.

"Football, I hurt my leg…" Nash stole my fucking excuse in front of the instructor. 

The instructor, clearly aware that it was a lie, sighed and turned to me.

"What about you, brat? Did you injure your other leg?"

"N-no…" I said, shaking my head. "I have kidney failure in my liver."

"What and where?"

Anyway, my days were usually like that. It was pretty fun.

But still, at the back of my head, there were two things nagging at me.

One was possible death since I needed ten backstories from people in Calla Lily.

And the other was the fact that I hadn't received any response yet. I was starting to lose hope that I would ever receive a response from Snack Novel at all.

Thankfully, the amount of socializing I was doing stopped me from wallowing in those thoughts. If it was worth anything, then I had also reached almost two hundred followers on Reversal.

Things were looking up.

Then, one odd thing happened. It was a sudden event, at the end of the week. The same day I was supposed to meet with Ray.

It was during our language classes.

"Today, all of you have to write an essay on an impactful past event. A reflective essay about what happened and how it changed your outlook on something. The best essays will have to be read out loud."

Our language teacher with her graying her and gentle smile looked like a real angel today. 

And so we got to work.

To be honest, I was a little excited about this one. Unlike others here, I was a real writer now.

What if my essay was too good for the others kids? I'd probably be called out to the front before anyone else.

Should I hide my true power level and write a bad essay? Eh, well. I am just being delusional.

In a cheerful mood, I got to work with the essay. I didn't really have anything particularly impactful that had changed me in my life. 

No, there was one thing. Writing. But I didn't want to tell anyone else about it.

In the end, I decided to write about giving up. That was the one topic I considered myself knowledgeable in.

How many times had I given up before? I knew better. Maybe a relatable essay would be best. 

I got to work and the hour passed by quickly…

And soon enough.

"There are quite a few great essays. The names I call, please come up to the front."

The teacher called a few names.

Not mine.

Those people started narrating their essays, most of them embarrassed. The writing quality was not all too bad, but the contents were largely impactful.

Some people wrote about death, others wrote about their pets. 

The more I listened, the more I realized that most people truly lived their own stories.

There was another massive gain…

[Ding! You have learned the third backstory!]

[Ding! You have learned the fourth backstory!]

.

.

.

[Ding! You have learned the Eighth backstory!]

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