The classroom buzzed with quiet murmurs as the teacher droned on, his voice blending with the rhythmic ticking of the clock. Afternoon light streamed through the windows, casting golden streaks across Fury’s desk.
He barely heard a word.
His crimson eyes stared blankly at the open textbook in front of him. Words blurred together. Numbers, formulas, mana flow charts—it didn’t matter.
Not to him.
Not to someone without magic.
His fingers curled into a fist under the desk.
Magic was everything in this world. It determined status, power, worth. Those who had it became warriors, scholars, legends. Those who didn’t… were nothing.
Fury knew that better than anyone.
He shifted his gaze, glancing at the students around him. Most were focused, eager to master their abilities. Some whispered spells under their breath, their fingertips glowing faintly with elemental energy.
He was the only one whose hands remained dull and lifeless.
A sharp voice cut through his thoughts.
"Alright, class," Mr. Hayashi said, pushing up his glasses. "Before we end today''s lesson, let’s review combat theory. Who can explain the fundamentals of mana control in battle?"
A few hands shot up.
Fury knew the answer. He had studied it a thousand times. But no matter how much knowledge he had, he could never apply it. Because magicless students didn’t belong in battle.
"Reo," the teacher called on a student near the front.
A tall boy with jet-black hair and sharp golden eyes stood up. Reo Daisuke. Fury’s only friend.
"The key to combat is mana circulation," Reo said confidently. "A strong fighter enhances their physical body with magic to surpass human limits. Speed, strength, reflexes—it all depends on mana flow."
Fury’s grip tightened.
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I surpass human limits without magic.
But no one cared about that.
Reo continued. "A person without mana can’t hope to compete with even a novice mage. They''re too weak."
Fury sighed. He knew Reo didn’t mean it as an insult, but the truth always stung.
The class nodded in agreement. The lesson moved on.
Fury stayed silent.
After class Fury waited for the others to leave before standing. But before he could take a step—
A hand grabbed his shoulder.
"Hey, freak."
Fury sighed. He already knew who it was.
Jake.
The same routine. Every day.
"You looked real deep in thought during class," Jake said, smirking. His friends snickered behind him. "Oh, wait—you don’t need to think, do you? No magic, no future, no point in trying."
Fury didn’t react.
Jake hated that.
His smirk twitched. "Tch. You really think ignoring me is gonna work?"
The punch came fast.
But Fury was faster.
His body moved on instinct, shifting slightly to the side. Jake’s fist cut through the empty air where his face had been a second ago.
The lackeys blinked in surprise.
Jake scowled. "You little—"
He swung again. Fury stepped back. Another punch—he dodged with a slight tilt of his head. A kick—he sidestepped with ease.
Every attack missed by inches.
To the untrained eye, it looked like luck.
To Fury, it was practice.
Years of avoiding punches. Years of knowing he could win a fight but never throwing a single hit.
Because if he did…
If he beat them, it would only make things worse.
"Stay still, damn it!" Jake growled, lunging again.
Fury sighed. He’s getting slow.
His foot slid back, shifting his weight just enough to let Jake’s momentum carry him forward. He hooked a foot behind Jake’s ankle—
Thud.
Jake hit the ground face-first.
The classroom fell silent.
Even Fury hadn’t expected him to fall so easily.
For the first time, Jake hesitated before getting up. He clenched his fists but didn’t move. His eyes flickered with something unfamiliar.
Annoyance.
Confusion.
Fear?
Fury turned away. "We’re done here."
He walked past them, stepping into the hallway.
But Jake’s voice stopped him.
"You think you’re fast, huh?"
Fury tensed.
He had made a mistake.
A spark crackled in the air.
"Let’s see you dodge this, freak!"
Before Fury could react, a blast of electricity shot toward him.
Lightning Magic.
The force hit his back, pain exploding through his body as he was thrown forward, crashing into the wall. His breath caught. His muscles seized, his limbs locking up from the shock.
Laughter filled the room.
"You really thought you could win?" Jake sneered, walking toward him. The faint blue glow of magic flickered around his hands. "You’re nothing, Fury. Always have been."
Fury gritted his teeth, trying to push himself up. But his body refused to listen.
Jake knelt beside him, voice low. "You’re lucky I don’t want to kill you. Yet."
The magic faded. The pain lingered.
Fury clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms.
He wasn’t weak.
He wasn’t.
He had trained harder than anyone. His body was stronger, faster. But in a world of magic—raw talent meant nothing.
He bit the inside of his cheek as Jake and his friends walked away, their laughter echoing down the hall.
A hand suddenly appeared in front of him.
"Still getting yourself into trouble?"
Fury looked up. Reo.
Unlike the others, his expression wasn’t mocking. Just… tired.
Fury hesitated before taking his hand.
"You really need to stop letting them get to you," Reo muttered as he pulled him up.
Fury dusted off his uniform. "Didn’t exactly have a choice."
Reo sighed. "I don’t get it. You’re faster than them. Stronger. So why do you keep letting them win?"
Fury didn’t answer.
Because he didn’t know.
Because deep down—he was afraid of what would happen if he did fight back.
Reo shook his head. "Come on. Let’s get out of here before Jake decides he’s not done with you yet."
Fury nodded, following his fri
end down the hall.
But as he walked, a thought lingered in his mind.
I’m not weak.
Then why does it feel like I’ll always lose?
And for the first time…
That thought didn’t fade away.