Chapitre 103: Director's CUT
*yoyo, new chapter. Happy new year, everyone. I wish you all the best, just Ws in your lives, and stay healthy. God be with you all. Now, back to the chapter. I did a little writing here, focusing on drawing closer with this part, and then we'll see how things go. Peace out and Deus vult.*
The group ended up wandering around some more, discussing different things with the Assistananas, mostly about how they differed from the Dreamjolt Troupe. Stelle was about to take her bat out and engage in combat on sight, while Mark was silently assessing the giant screen with a keen eye. He was snapped back to reality when an overly excited voice called out to him.
Turning around, they were met by a certain girl whose profile picture Mark saw in the group chat for the students—besides having known her from the game itself. They got closer, watching her stop waving, but the enthusiasm was there altogether.
"And you are...?" asked March the moment they were within reach, able to hear each other over the murmurs of the students that were partying all around.
"You guys were easy to spot. You, the pink, pretty girl with the camera, you're Say~Cheese~, aren't you?"
"Oh, March, yeah," said Mark, aware of her fancy for cutesy stuff, as well as her knack for the camera.
"Hi there," said the girl. "I'm TreasureNana from the campus group chat. You can call me Montana."
"Nice to meet you. My name is Dan Heng."
Normal answer, the accepted norm, but Stelle had to be a little fancy, probably on that monkey high.
"I'm Baseball Bat Ninja."
Mark facepalmed, and March followed his example, mimicking the action down to the way his shoulders slouched and head shook left and right. Still, Montana seemed to be going off the rails.
"Oh, I recognize you! You're this season's Festive Superstar! You're famous!"
Her hands trembled as she brought them up to her mouth, slowly letting them down as her eyes lit up like lightbulbs.
"I never thought I'd go to the same school as someone famous. I bet you'll be assigned to the Charmony Academy!"
She was on cloud nine, perhaps ready to ascend to the tenth. She did look over the group once more, but her eyes moved to Stelle as if drawn there, a moth seeking its light. In her daze, however, she glanced over to Mark, narrowing her eyes a little.
"You seem familiar," she said in a tranquil voice, switching instantly to the personality of a detective.
Mark held her gaze, unimpressed and slightly bored. He just shrugged, shaking his head.
"No clue what you're on about, lady. I'm just a guy who came here with these guys. Nothin' more."
She didn't seem to buy it, but her memory failing her was enough reason for her to pull back and simply take his word—at least for the time being.
"Well, I don't think you introduced yourself."
Mark blinked slowly, aware that he did forget to do such a thing. He was too focused on Stelle's ninja-like name, so he just rubbed his eyelids for a moment before speaking tiredly.
"Call me Mark. Nice to meet ya, Montana."
The waters calmed down for a bit, which did allow March to ask her arduous question, the one that lingered on her mind ever since Montana talked with Stelle.
"What's up with that assignment thing?" she asked innocently, and Dan Heng betrayed his excitement at being in a prestigious environment for learning by explaining everything about the 'tuning' process that ensures students are assigned to the right academy.
Mark just stood off in his spot, mentally distant, focusing on the prospects of the future. His anxiety about the university was pretty low, and his head didn't hurt when thinking about someone dying in there, so he just allowed the conversation to flow freely around while the others talked.
"Is he always like this?" whispered Montana as she leaned in closer to the others, glancing sideways at Mark, who was staring deadpan at the ground, eyes unfocused.
"Well, he's a bit... peculiar," she replied, returning one of her amused smiles and a little 'teehee' noise.
Dan Heng gave Mark a nudge in the side, pulling him back from the confines of his own mind.
"Mark, come on. Let's go see the opening ceremony," he said calmly, to which Mark simply nodded and followed along, not really in the mood for large crowds. The atmosphere did make him feel a little weird, almost like he was standing out for the sole reason of being present.
"It's all in my head; I gotta get past this. It's not like I care what they say, but my brain has this built-in shitty function to just worry."
He glanced over to the gathering crowds, all of them ready for the presentation. March's eyes widened, and Dan Heng himself was surprised by the scene. Stelle simply glanced at Mark, who was clenching his fist, all too aware of something. The itch in his head was back, pressing down on his temples with fury.
"No way... the dean is..." mumbled March, her gaze fixed on the screen.
Dan Heng nearly choked on his own words, and Mark was about to hit the biggest Frieza moment in history.
"Damned monkey..." he muttered under his breath, the information flooding him like storm-fueled rivers crashing against dams.
"What's going on? Is this a gag?" she asked, shooting Mark a glance—just like the others. Somehow, they did become reliant on his constant flood of answers to the weirdest things that occurred during their adventures.
"It's true. He's a monkey," said Mark, trying to calm down for the time being.
The whole group of students was watching, eagerly absorbing every word that left the mouth of their dean. It all went crazy when the abolishment of exams for that year was announced. No more thesis works, no exams, nothing to stress the students. While everyone was happy, Mark couldn't quite accept it. Sure, it sounded like a dream, just go there and it's all good, but no one understood the importance of examination and learning in itself. It's what was needed for the students to develop and actually become capable with whatever they wished to perform further down the line.
"It's plain stupid," he said calmly, and March glanced at him questioningly.
"What do you mean by that, Mark? No exams, no work; it's an experience fitting for Penacony."
He shook his head firmly, clenching his jaw slightly as his Adam's apple moved up and down bitterly.
"It's important to ensure that it all works out in the end. Work sucks, but it's what prepares students for the future. It's what aids in their capabilities down the line. This shit is the most suspicious thing, especially in an academic environment. It's so stupid I have no words for it."
March wasn't easily swayed by those words, since for her the lax life seemed way nicer, but Dan Heng did understand the point he tried to drive across.
"You do make a good argument, Mark, but who's to say that Penacony takes the normal approach when it comes to academics? Perhaps it's an attempt at understanding a better way to learn and improve the entirety of their system."
Mark shrugged, hard-driven by his point.
"Well, whatever. I think we should go to class now, right?"
Instead of waiting for an answer, he slid his hands inside his pockets, the cargo pants moving slowly with the movement. Casual in step, fast in his usual manner of walking, he went ahead, with the others following. The students did look their way, recognizing them for the most part, but Mark's change in outfit, paired with his ability to easily slip out of people's minds, made for his swift camouflage.
The halls were brimming with students, each one going to their own class or wherever they had business. The students from higher years were already going about their free time, the new offer from the Profnana already widely accepted by most students, with the exception being the first-year students like them who had to be assessed.
"Here we are," said March as they walked in through the doors. The class was nearly filled to the brim, but they had some seats assigned to them specifically. They were grouped together, close to the front of the class.
Mark and Dan Heng were both immersed in their own business, one of them staring blankly at the door, while the other was reading from his usual book. March had a great time chatting left and right, while Stelle was nearly dozing off. Mark knew that feeling all too well.
"Settle down, settle down!" called out a voice, coming in with a tall man, his red gaze piercing to the very core of those inside the class. "Turn off all recording devices. The film is about to begin!"
He shot a pose, bowing slightly like an actor on the scene at the end of a play. On his shoulder, a tiny creature Mark didn't bother much with, finding no use in it. Instead, he focused on the man himself, Mister Reca. He went on with his charming introduction, only to be halted by a lady from the Family.
"Mister Reca, please mind your verbiage. You're not on set. This is a classroom."
He shot her a glare, his head moving to the side at once.
"No good! Cast member of The Family, do remember that everywhere I stand is a set."
Mark was watching with interest while the whole class was in a craze.
"What a bunch of easily impressed people."
"CUT!"
He moved his hand in one swift motion, aiming it at the class.
"Cast members, please remember your lines. I'm currently playing the role of a guest lecturer, and you are my students. Please stay in character."
He glanced at Mark, who was eerily calm. Their eyes met, like a silent challenge, the mental heat rising slightly. Mental intrusion, felt at once. Mark smirked, recalling the things at once. Reca was a Memokeeper and most probably felt the fire in his mind while trying to get a good read on him.
"This will be pretty funky, but I might just try to figure out what's going on behind the scenes way before the actual debut of the villain."
Thus, from his seat, he watched the scene at the front unfold; the script of the game followed nicely, especially with the scene where the lady present there, a member of The Family, is exposed for academic fraud, only to then forget a piece of information seemingly out of thin air. Dan Heng shot Mark a glance in that very second, and a subtle whisper was the only thing they exchanged.
"He's a Memokeeper, but keep this between us for now."
With a nod, Dan Heng calmed down, putting the pieces together himself, understanding the events that happened subtly before their very eyes. Once it was all settled, Reca left the room, and the students were called in for the 'audition' process.
"You, the student with the large white shirt, please go to the performing arts classroom."
March enthusiastically turned to face Mark, smiling.
"Heh, it seems like you're going first. Do tell us how it was."
He nodded, smiling a bit as he casually made his way down, hands in his pockets.
"I'll let you guys know."
Thus, he went ahead, all alone, reaching the classroom in a bit. The inside of the room was a recording set, which surprised him slightly. The white sheet on the wall, the cameras, and the lights. In the middle, Reca motioned for Mark to come closer.
"Mark, welcome to the audition."
"Good to be here, Mister Reca," he answered calmly, putting on a good front of perfect calmness.
His words were accepted with a nod, after which the instructions on the process became the focal point of their talk.
"The audition process is simple. You only need to answer a few questions. Of course, I won't be judging based on your answer alone. I will be watching your every move on camera."
He walked over to the camera, waving his hand to the center of the room, where Mark silently strutted over to, standing there as calm as usual, staring into the soul of the camera—at least he would if it had one.
"I do remember you, Mark, as the one who won one million bottles of SoulGlad. It was a surprising achievement, I must admit. Considering that, I'm pretty sure you're used to having a camera on you."
Mark nodded, keeping one arm behind his back, the position he sometimes resorted to when it came to public presentations.
"I can say that much. Didn't expect to win, but it did happen."
Reca nodded, then switched to his professional mode.
"Scene 1, Take 1. ACTION! Hmm... this doesn't look right. CUT! Assistant director, change the scene, please."
Mark simply stared at it while the camera zoomed in. He was aware of the flaws on his skin, the pimples that sometimes peeked out over and over, be it harsher or better, but at the end of the day, they made him human.
"This is better," announced Reca, glancing at Mark for a second before focusing back on the camera. "Now for the first question: please introduce yourself."
Aware of what the camera needed to a degree, he went swiftly with it, his palms resting on his hips as his chest puffed out slightly, a natural movement.
"Name's Mark, one of the Nameless of the Astral Express. I might be known by some other names here and there, with Five being the moniker I got on the Xianzhou Luofu when I won the Luminary Wardance."
Reca nodded, intrigued slightly by the information.
"I see. You're used to performing in front of the masses. Very good. Now, second question. What are you most proud of about yourself?"
Mark summoned his Sword of Will in a fiery display of crimson flames and sparks that danced around. With a flick of his arm, the sword pointed to the ground, resting in his hand.
"I grew stronger than I was at the start. The only thing a man has to his name is his own strength. That's something few can take away."
Reca's eyes beamed when the blade came into play, the sparks lingering on his retina even as Mark dismissed the weapon.
"No special effects needed for you, it seems. Strong will, the sheer desire to play the hero. You're a film cliché, but as common as it is a trope, the real deal is most difficult to come along. Good, now, for the third question. I'll let her do the honors."
Mark's gaze followed that of Reca to his mechanical lizard assistant.
"This is my assistant director. A reliable partner who's skilled at cinematography, script supervising, editing, and more —has a better eye than me when it comes to casting performers."
Mark just nodded, aware of the assistant's existence, so the news didn't as much as rattle him. Reca only betrayed a silent grin, as if excited at the prospect of an unphased actor, one able to perform under unplanned circumstances.
The lizard just made a strange sound, to which Reca nodded.
"Hm, a very perceptive question. Mark, how do you answer?"
Without skipping a beat, Mark mimicked the sound, answering in kind.
"Well, you sure don't shy away from being yourself when needed, but she did say you're only speaking gibberish. Anyway, on to the last question..."
The tension settled in the room, and Mark smirked slightly. He knew Reca couldn't read his mind, and thus, pulling out information the same way he had with Stelle was impossible.
"Through your adventures as a Nameless, have you found something to fight for?"
So, the question was custom, personalized on his earlier answer about strength. With a serene expression, one devoid of all restraints, Mark stared at him directly, not the camera, speaking calmly.
"I have."
The fire in his heart picked up, their crimson color reminding him of what had been lost in order to be reborn as part of him.
"I found the strongest driving force one could ever find in the world."
Reca stared at Mark, taken aback by the sincerity in his gaze.
"Are you going to finish the answer?"
Mark shook his head, speaking calmly, back to his serious demeanor at the flick of a switch.
"If you call it out, the scene turns scene. What audience doesn't love something to think about and figure out a character?"
Reca smirked, applauding slightly.
"CUT! You have finished your exams. As for your results, they're good."
Mark listened attentively, half bored and half ready to just go around and try to find out the evil guy in the place—which, of course, was the monkey.
"Your answers were fitting and pretty clever. You didn't shy away from the camera and presented yourself in a dazzling manner. Combined with what experiences I do believe you have as a Nameless and your grand prize won on a whim, the best academy for you is... Charmony Academy!"
Mark nodded, not even waiting to be asked about it.
"Cool. Thank you for your time, Mister Reca. I'll see you around, I guess."
Mark nearly walked out after grabbing his new student ID, but he stopped at once, turning around as the little bits of information in his mind cluttered together, brought along by the memory of a specific note about a virus from the game, specific to that arc.
"Also, Mister Reca... I do have some questions of my own, if I may..."
Mark smirked, simply playing out his own little movie in his mind. How awfully ironic.
Chapitre 104: Speedrun
*yeah, shorter one now, motivation is kinda gone for writing (I'll try to find it for the time being, but yeah)... Peace out and Deus vult*
Reca was taken aback for a moment, but soon he broke out into a fit of laughter, shaking his head in a dramatic manner.
"Mark, it seems that you're not the type of character I expected. Your answers show that much, and yet you keep prying. By all means, ask away."
Mark nodded, taking a deep breath before speaking his mind, tracing his memories back to the silly message seen on a piece of paper about a memetic virus. The thing about it that rang the bells was the mention of bananas. Mixed with his knowledge of Reca's true nature, he drew a rational conclusion that followed the ideas of the game: new characters are part of the new plot. Thus, his hint was right there, broadly in the open.
"Well, do tell me, Mister Reca... just one question... is it the monkey that's behind this? I just need confirmation, and the rest is going to become a good movie, so make sure to watch."
Reca shook his head slightly, putting a hand to his forehead.
"Well, I certainly didn't expect one of the actors to catch on so soon to the plot, but it seems that you're far more attentive to foreshadowing than I thought," said Reca, keeping his calm demeanor all the way through.
"Indeed I have, Mister Reca. Now, please do answer my question, since it's my last impediment to this ordeal."
With a nod, Reca spoke calmly.
"That was supposed to be set aside for the final act, alas... yes, that is the answer to your question. No one likes a rushed ending, but perhaps it will do for an interesting plot twist packed with action."
Mark nodded, turning around to walk towards the exit. The way he moved, his poise, something just stirred Reca, gnawing at his memetic form from all sides. There was something strangely familiar about the man before him, almost like an image of the past coming by just to taunt him.
"Wait, Mark, there's something I need to know as well," said Reca, crossing his arms.
"And that is?" asked Mark as he looked over his shoulder.
Reca rubbed his chin slightly, eyeing him up and down before letting the question flow.
"Are you perhaps the Saviour of the Dream?"
Mark shrugged, finding that his lips curled up without his permission.
"I think they did call me that, even if some people didn't seem to think me the real deal thanks to my outfit being a complete revamp... or more like a return to my ways of old. Anyway, that's beside the point. I'll just go handle that idiotic monkey and see how things go."
With a frown, Mark spoke again.
"Just keep watch over it, if you can. I think that Memokeepers can find out information in multiple ways. In case it escapes, keep track of it. We have a specific ninja here who might be able to end it, memetic virus and all."
With that, Mark casually made his way out, sending the others a quick message about how the exam was, but he told them to be ready for stuff to happen. With that, he went ahead to the dean's office, all alone.
His gaze was dead set on the goal this time, cutting through the bullshit. No more waiting, no more needless dialogue, and no more walking around for no purpose. Everyone can have their fun once the villain is taken out, but until then, it was time to work.
With every muscle fiber in his body ready, Mark opened the door to the office, looking around at the attentively arranged interior. Bookshelves stacked to the ceiling gazed down upon them both like ancient beings witnessing those who came for their knowledge. One large portrait of an owl sat on the wall above the desk. It was Glaux, former head of the Nightingale Family in Penacony.
That was a figure of knowledge, the animal used in most representations of wisdom, but the one at the desk was a meager monkey with a pair of silly glasses.
"Well, what a surprise," it said calmly, looking at Mark intently. Despite the eyes hidden behind the one-sided glass, he could feel the quick analysis being run on him. "One of my dear students. Hmm, no appointment or a polite knock on the door... but I welcome you banantheless."
Mark stared blankly at it, crossing his arms. His sharp gaze stared right into the monkey's soul. The 'Profnana' fiddled with some things on the desk, dropping a piece of paper, which it did pick up rather quickly.
"Cut the crap, monkey," said Mark, his voice lacking any hint of enthusiasm. Sure, his head was hurting, but it didn't bother him much. That was nothing unusual or on a level that could actually threaten him. "I know what you are, so you better give it up now."
The dean stared at him, speaking calmly, but its tone was wavering ever so slightly.
"What exactly are you insinuating, my dear student? I'm afraid you have the wrong idea about whatever it is you're thinking."
Mark spent no time beating around the bush, summoning the Sword of Will by his side, the room glowing an ominous red.
"I said what I said," he spoke once more, his words emanating one emotion: hatred. "I won't ask again. Give up, stop your crap, and cough up where that monkey is, or else I will cut you down."
Profnana stared at the blade, a bit tense despite its usually cool demeanor. Beads of sweat rolled down its brow. With each second, the room itself seemed to be shrinking around them both.
"I see... that sword, you must be the Saviour of the Dream. I did take into account that you could possibly show up, and yet I expected that you wouldn't be in a state to do battle after your other fights. It seems to me that I was wrong..."
It stopped halfway through the sentence, as if nearly slipping up and revealing more.
"You meant to say something. Go on before I take the words out of you myself."
Mark brought the blade up, pointing it straight at his target, making sure that everything said by him was backed up by the blade.
"Do you not even care as to why Doctor Primitive is doing all that?"
Mark stared at it deadpan, his face expressionless.
"Do I look like I give a fuck? Cough it up before I beat you up... those words you wanted to add."
Silence, and with each beat of his heart, Mark's blade moved forward, followed by tiny, careful steps.
"Fine... you wish to hear the senseless mumbling I was about to say a few moments ago?"
Another breath spent in silence, and Mark was about to swing the blade, bringing it up in the air, right over his shoulder.
The entire wall shattered into thousands of fragments, birthing a cloud of dust as a large, machine-like fist flew at him, tossing him through the other side of the window.
"Next time you should take action first when the goal is right in front of you. Farewell..."
The Profnana dashed out through the broken wall, making a run for it.
From the rubble, Mark stood up, his right arm turned to mush from taking the brunt of the impact. He found himself outside the university, staring up to find a large mechanical amalgamation looking his way. It was...
"What the fucking giant monkey...? This must be some safety measure taken by that other damned monkey... a mix of those banana assistants. Dreamjolt Troupe turned giant mecha..."
Mark's arm morphed and shifted, rearranging itself into its usual form. With a sigh, he stared at the giant being, which was focused on him as it jumped high into the air, fists curled together above its head.
"Huh, so you want to do this kind of stuff?"
Mark's body sprung to life, energy flowing through his every crevice like water bursting forth through a dam. He wasn't about to waste more time and instantly grew out large pillars of ice, their tips sharpened. All of them dashed ahead, with Mark following behind, flames sending him skyward.
The large monstrosity was soon upon him, staring at the spikes before latching on to them with insane dexterity, moving down along their length before sending a large fist his way.
In the blink of an eye, the sky was all a sea of red, one large cloud of burning flames and determination.
Below, in the university, chaos had erupted with the apparition of the giant monkey mecha. Students scattered in every direction, with some staring at the sky, taking notice of the obvious battle going on.
"Is Mark again doing things without telling us everything?" asked March, pouting slightly as she looked up, watching the flames dissipate.
"He did warn us, so most probably he had a good lead and a chance to handle it," replied Stelle, while Dan Heng watched the sky clear up.
From behind the birth of hell, large chunks of ice the size of buildings peeked out, pieces of wire and steel enclosed in all of them. Mark stood alone on top of them, his sword holstered on his shoulder, the glowing red a single dot in the sky.
"What the...? Did he get himself in more trouble this time?" asked March, scratching the side of her head while trying to piece everything together from the little info she had.
"Just one way to find out," replied Dan Heng, watching the man himself slide their way on a path of ice, hands in his pocket.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
200+ Classement
Power Stone 
12 Power
stone 
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