บท 30: New Goals
Issac's eyebrow arched in response, and Maria let out a sigh. She continued, "But today, I sensed a change in you. When you walked out of that dungeon, I could feel it—the weight of your abilities and the feeling of despair that I'll never match your skills."
"Maria..." Issac whispered softly, leaning forward, but she interrupted him. "Don't get me wrong. I'm not depressed. I'm just... I'm just grateful. Grateful that I finally saw what my true goal really is," she said with a hint of relief in her voice.
Maria stared at Issac, her gaze serious as she continued, "I hope you also know for sure what you're aiming for, Issac. Because what you showed me today, that's something that'll bring a lot of despair, both to me and to you. I just hope you understand the consequences before you start pushing yourself again."
"What do you think it is that they're talking about?" Beaver asked Enrique, who were both standing outside of the infirmary along with Edgar, who was swiping through his phone. Enrique shrugged his shoulders and said, "How the hell would I know? Probably comparing their battle strategies or something.."
"You idiot! You really think that's what's happening inside?" Beaver exclaimed, giving Enrique a solid slap on the back of his neck. He shook his head with a mix of frustration and disappointment etched on his face. "Ouch!" Enrique winced, rubbing his neck as he glared at Beaver. "Why'd you do that for?" he demanded, his tone laced with annoyance.
"You don't understand, Enrique.." Beaver clicked his tongue and spoke with exasperation, dismissing Enrique's anger. "They're obviously talking about love!"
Enrique stared at Beaver, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "What the fuck are you talking about, man?" he exclaimed, his expression suggesting that he thought Beaver was acting a bit crazy.
"It makes perfect sense," Beaver nodded, pointing his finger to emphasize his point as Enrique rolled his eyes but seemed intrigued by his friend's theory. "I mean think about it," Beaver pressed on. "From the very beginning, I noticed how they interacted - the friendly competitions, the way they pushed each other to success. That's all classic rom-com shit, man! I'm telling you, today might be the day they figure it out."
"What are you, like eight?" Enrique crossed his arms, amused by Beaver's theory. "They're probably just discussing their battles and stuff, not confessing to each other."
"I'm telling you dude, you're wrong!" Beaver shook his head with unwavering determination.
"I don't know, man. I feel like Enrique over here might be onto something," Another voice interrupted their conversation, and the two young men turned their gazes around, only to have their expressions turn to horror as they realized who was standing behind them.
"You have a lot of theories, don't you, Beaver?" Maria said with a smile on her face, although to Beaver and Enrique, it definitely didn't look like a genuine smile.
"I mean, they're mostly just theories, you know…" Beaver waved his hands in the air, speaking with a nervous expression on his face. He pointed at Enrique and said, "In fact, Enrique's the one who usually has more theories."
"Wha- Don't bring me into this!" Enrique protested as he slapped Beaver on the back of his head.
"Hey, Edgar," Maria shifted her gaze towards Edgar, who was still engrossed in his phone. "We still have some free time left before classes resume, right?"
"Yup," Edgar nodded his head, and Maria turned her gaze back to Beaver, her smile widening as she cracked her knuckles. "How about I throw a new theory your way, since you seem to enjoy them so much?"
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Isaiah Town.
Nestled unassumingly on the side of the bustling street, Chow's Foot Reflexology exuded an air of normalcy, concealing its intriguing secrets within its unremarkable façade. There were no customers inside the building, most probably due to the scorching sun that dared anyone to brave its intensity, which made stepping outside feel similar to entering an unforgiving inferno.
The air conditioner hummed at its maximum capacity inside the building, and the receptionist, seemingly disengaged from her surroundings, had her eyes glued to her phone, swiping through it with a detached expression, devoid of any visible human emotion.
Cling!
The sound of a bell echoed through the room, the door opened, drawing the receptionist's attention away from her phone. Her gaze shifted to Issac with a subtle but penetrating intensity before she resumed her phone scrolling.
Issac approached the desk swiftly, his demeanor calm and composed. Speaking softly, he stated, "I have an appointment with Jerril."
The receptionist's gaze briefly met Issac's, and with a graceful gesture, she pointed towards the secret door concealed behind the reception desk.
"Proceed through the door," she whispered softly. Following her instructions, Issac walked towards the hidden entrance and quietly opened it.
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"You're here early," As Issac entered the briefing room, Mr. Ritchie, completely engrossed in his computer, greeted him with a nonchalant remark.
"Yeah, well, I figured I'd train more…" Issac replied, stretching his hands and legs. "Didn't feel like I was doing enough at university."
"Soloing a B-rank dungeon on your first try wasn't good enough for you?" Mr. Ritchie's monotone voice posed the question, catching Issac off guard for a moment. Issac turned his gaze back to Mr. Ritchie, his eyes widening with surprise. "How'd you-"
"Secret Organization, remember?" Mr. Ritchie reminded him of who they were working for, and Issac nodded, feeling slightly embarrassed. "Oh yeah. I had completely forgotten about that."
"So…" Mr. Ritchie shut his computer off and turned to look at Issac, his gaze intent. "What's troubling you?"
"I mean…" Issac scratched his chin, his eyes darting around the room before finally meeting Mr. Ritchie's gaze. "I don't know whether I'm doing enough or not."
"Go on," Mr. Ritchie encouraged, his expression attentive, motioning Issac to continue.
"Back before you guys roped me into this—this top secret… whatever this thing is," Issac continued, "I had a clear understanding of what my goal was. I knew that I was doing enough to get into a good guild. I was even certain that I was good enough to get into the best guild in the country."
"And you feel like you don't know anymore…" Mr. Ritchie nodded, signaling that he was starting to understand Issac's predicament.
"Correct," Issac affirmed. "It's just, I'm anxious, that's all. And when I'm anxious, I tend to feel the need to train more. But if I don't know what I'm training for, then it won't ever go away."
Issac gaze remained fixed on Mr. Ritchie once he finished his words, hopeful that he would find some guidance in the man's words. Mr. Ritchie, deep in thought, stroked his chin, carefully contemplating on how to solve this issue without divulging any sensitive information.
"Come with me," After a while, Mr. Ritchie stood up from his chair and walked towards another door, motioning Issac to follow him. Intrigued, Issac complied, closely shadowing Mr. Ritchie's steps. They ventured through a series of winding corridors until they reached an unassuming door at the far end of the hallway. With a subtle nod, Mr. Ritchie opened the door, revealing a vast, dimly lit room that seemed to stretch on endlessly.
Issac looked around the room with intrigue, and as he absorbed the sight before him, Mr. Ritchie walked away, forming a considerable distance between them.
Issac noticed that Mr. Ritchie had moved far ahead of him and was about to catch up when Mr. Ritchie gestured with raised hands. "Stop."
Issac halted in his tracks, his curiosity piqued by Mr. Ritchie's unexpected request. With a puzzled expression, he observed Mr. Ritchie, who assumed a combat stance and beckoned for Issac to make a move, "Attack me."
Issac seemed taken aback by Mr. Ritchie's unexpected request. "What?" he asked, his confusion evident. Mr. Ritchie repeated firmly, "Attack me. Give it your best shot."
"Right now?" Issac's surprise was evident, but Mr. Ritchie nodded. "Yes. Go for it."
"Okay…." After a moment of hesitation, Issac composed himself and assumed his combat stance. Taking a deep breath, he focused his gaze on Mr. Ritchie, determination evident in his eyes.
Whoosh!
With a swift movement, Issac closed the distance between them, his hand enveloped in flames as he swung it at Mr. Ritchie's face.
But what happened next caused Issac's eyes to widen in shock. Before he could comprehend what had happened, he found himself sprawled on the ground, his gaze shifted upwards to the ceiling.
"What just..." Issac began to speak, but his words were cut short as an intense pain shot through his entire body, and the ground beneath him shattered with a deafening sound.
BAM!
Mr. Ritchie had slammed Issac onto the ground, and the attack was executed with such incredible speed that Issac couldn't even perceive it happening. The shock and confusion were evident on Issac's face as he tried to make sense of the situation.
"Gah…" Mr. Ritchie approached Issac as he struggled to catch his breath. Kneeling down, he inquired, "Did you see the attack?"
"Guh… No.." Issac managed to reply between gasps for air. Mr. Ritchie nodded in understanding, then stood up again. He spoke firmly, "Then that's your first goal."
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