The dungeon walls grew damp and cold as night fell. Yahata leaned his back against the stone floor and took another deep breath. His ribs still creaked. Five episodes' worth of pain was still very much alive in his body. (When the third bell rings, place your hand on the south wall.) He repeated the words from the scrap of paper that had been pushed through a gap in the wall. Neat, meticulous handwriting. Completely different from that rough scrawl. Which meant a different person. He had no idea how they knew he'd been thrown in the dungeon in real time. It could be a trap. He knew that. But did he have any other options right now? No. Goooong. The low bell tolled, shaking the stone walls. Once. Twice. Three times. Yahata stood up. His ribs screamed in protest. He ignored them. Three steps to the south wall. He pressed his right palm against the ancient stone. Nothing happened. (Is this a prank? It's definitely a prank.) He waited three seconds and tried again. This time he traced his fingertips along the stone joints. Without a sound, the wall opened. Inward, like a door. A dark passage appeared. A small shadow slowly emerged from within. Wrapped in a hooded robe, face hidden. "[excited]Finally met you! Mirror Crown-san!" The hood was pulled back. Vivid blue short bob hair. Odd eyes of gold and deep green sparkled in the torchlight. Her cheeks were flushed, and her mouth curved in a cheerful smile. Small magical charms were woven into her hair—by all appearances, just an ordinary junior student from the academy. Except for the one detail of appearing from a hidden passage in the dungeon in the dead of night. "I've been observing you this whole time. Since about four episodes ago." "...Wait a second." Yahata raised one hand. "You're the one who sent it? The letter thrown through the window, and the scrap of paper in the wall just now?" "[excited]Yep! All of it! Because it's way too interesting!" "Way too interesting." "[excited]You're Mirror Crown but can't use magic, and you started spouting that hair root defect theory on the first day—oh, we need to get moving, so let's talk while we walk!" With that, she took off running deeper into the passage. Yahata stood there dumbfounded for a moment, then let out a small sigh. He wanted to retort before thanking her, but he'd missed his chance. Holding his ribs, he stepped into the dark passage. (This is like that game thing where a mysterious NPC says "follow me," completely.) "By the way, I've got cracked ribs right now." "[surprised]I know! I'll give you some herbal paste later!" "How do you know that?" There was no answer. --- The passage ahead sloped gently downward. Beneath the academy—below the official basement of Tonsura Academy, and even deeper than the dungeon. Instead of torches, magical stones were embedded in the walls at regular intervals, casting orange light across the floor. The cool air of ancient stone drifted through. Rio opened a door. "[excited]Here! My research lab!" The room was—something you'd want to cover your eyes against. Experimental equipment spilled from shelves. Stacks of parchment lay scattered across the floor. Dried magical catalyst mineral powder in small vials rolled about. On a wooden desk, parchment with familiar-looking diagrams was spread out, covered by another parchment, which was covered by yet another parchment— "It's just a little messy." "I'm jealous of your ability to call this 'a little.'" Rio stepped over several parchments on the floor and approached the desk, pulling out a bundle from below. She unrolled it. An experimental record with columns of numbers and a human skeletal diagram. "This is my data. I've been running experiments for six months on extracting the source of magical power from bone marrow." Yahata took the paper. His eyes traced the numbers. Graphs. Comparison tables. Records of formulas. His gamer brain kicked into overdrive. In hair root sorcery—the standard magical system of this world—magical power accumulates in hair roots and is consumed upon activation. Hair roots that are consumed never regenerate. That's why the most powerful mages are bald. That's the "common sense" of this world. But. "Hair roots are the outlet, not the source." Rio spun around. Her odd eyes gleamed. "[excited]That's it! That's what I wanted to say!" "The reason I couldn't use magic despite being Mirror Crown is because I don't have a single outlet. In other words, if I find a way that doesn't go through the outlet, I should be able to use it—your data says bone marrow is the real storage." Rio leaned forward eagerly. "[excited]Exactly! But I couldn't figure out how to bypass the outlet. There's no record anywhere of someone who's lost all their hair roots activating magical power—" "It's like a game bug where your MP is full but the skill menu won't display. But if you input the command directly, it activates anyway." Rio went silent for a moment. Then: "[surprised]...What's a game?" "A toy from the previous world. Don't worry about it." "[serious]But I understand the meaning. A command—meaning learning to pull magical power directly without going through hair roots." "That's it." Rio pulled out parchment and started writing something. The words "Non-root direct activation—" appeared. Yahata took another sheet and wrote "Direct MP gauge tap" and stuck it on the wall. Rio saw it and: "[laughing]...That means the same thing!" Her laughter echoed through the room. --- The experiment began. Rio's instructions were clear. "Concentrate your consciousness on your bone marrow. From your spine to your arm, from your arm to your fingertips. Imagine magical power flowing. Hair roots don't matter, forget about them." Yahata tried. Nothing happened. The second attempt, the third. His fingertips remained cold. Rio jotted down small notes. He could see sideways: "No response. However, subject appears to be concentrating." "Don't write stuff like that in your notes." "[laughing]Records must be accurate!" An hour passed. Yahata's fingertips began to warm slightly. It might have been his imagination. But something was definitely—a sensation like something pressing from within, being born in his bones. Like that moment in a game when the loading screen moves from 0% to 1%. Rio looked up. "[serious]Did you feel something just now?" "Heat. Just a little." "[excited]Again! This time start from the center of your chest instead of your bone marrow!" Second hour. Yahata took a deep breath. His cracked ribs creaked. Still, he steadied his breathing. The center of his chest. He brought his consciousness to his body's core. Not like a game character's HP bar—something else entirely. The heat grew larger. From bone to arm. From arm to elbow. When the third hour began, Yahata raised his right hand not to his head, but in front of his chest. No incantation. No hand on his head. No awareness of hair roots. Just narrowing his consciousness. From the deepest part of his bones—to his fingertips. Azure light kindled at his fingertips. Just for an instant. A single grain of azure light. But it was definitely there. A chair clattered to the floor. Rio had stood up. Her knee had kicked the chair, sending it toppling. Completely unaware, she stared at Yahata's fingertips with her odd eyes opened as wide as they could go. "[excited]It came out! It came out, it came out, it came out!!" Her voice cracked. Yahata silently watched his fingertips as the light faded. Words he'd muttered on a rooftop in the previous world—twenty-eight years of accomplishing nothing—passed through the back of his mind. Usually it ended there. A meaningless utterance that left nothing behind. But tonight, there was more. It came out. Just those words, but something shifted in Yahata's chest. He couldn't put into words what changed. But something was definitely different. "[crying]Mirror Crown-san." He turned. Rio's eyes had turned red. "[crying]You just changed the world, you know? You flipped three hundred eighty years of 'you can't use magic without hair roots.'" Yahata paused for a moment. "Well—in game terms, we just cleared the tutorial." It was a blunt response, but his face was smiling just a little. --- That same night, in a dorm room. Arishia sat at her desk, unable to sleep at all. The candle flame flickered. The contents of the ancient documents wouldn't leave her mind. The truth of the Great Hair Loss War—the "fact" that baldness being superior was a lie deliberately spread by those in power. Her family's generations of protecting "the orthodox path of magic" had been built on two-hundred-year-old deception. Her heart still couldn't process it. But what wouldn't leave her mind even more was—the look in Yahata's eyes just before they were separated in the hallway. Not resignation, not anger. A quiet, straightforward gaze. She'd never been looked at like that before. Raised in a noble house, known as a model student, everyone had only ever looked at her with expectation, jealousy, or wariness. That gaze was different. Arishia remembered a previous night. The night she'd accidentally heard a voice on the rooftop. Twenty-eight years of accomplishing nothing in the previous world—that voice hadn't been lying. It couldn't have been. (That person can't lie.) The conviction settled quietly. Arishia stood from her chair. The surveillance instructor Grandion had stationed was making regular rounds at the corridor corner. Arishia had memorized the dorm structure. Out the window, across the roofs. She could reach a blind spot in three minutes. She felt bad for the surveillance instructor, but this was a matter of practical skill honed through combat training. Top academy grades weren't just for show. She opened the window silently. Cold night wind brushed her cheek. --- The research lab door opened as dawn approached. After repeating the azure light experiment several times, the light particles had begun to stabilize—when a knock sounded at the door. Rio stiffened. Yahata turned. The door opened. Deep purple hair. Cool silver eyes. A light cloak over combat clothes. Her breathing was slightly ragged, night dew glistening on the hem of her cloak. It was Arishia. She looked at Yahata's fingertips—where traces of azure light still faintly glowed—and said nothing for a while. Rio whispered: "[whispers]...Who is that?" "The surveillance model student." "[surprised]Huh? Why would the surveillance person be here?" Arishia opened her mouth. Her voice maintained composure. But her breathing was still slightly fast. "[serious]I haven't quit. But right now I'm on your side." Yahata thought for a moment. "You're not here to punch me?" "[serious]...Right now, I'm not here to punch you." "Well then." He nodded briefly. That was enough. Yahata understood the weight of the fact that Arishia had come. She was being threatened by Grandion. The weight of her family's honor was there. Yet she came. When he thought about what that meant, his throat wouldn't move properly. So he just nodded. Something seemed to ease in Arishia the moment he nodded. She looked away slightly, unnoticed. She knew her heart was still beating fast. She tried to put the reason into words, then stopped. Rio either read the air between them or didn't: "[excited]Then let's all prepare for the test! The real thing starts in the morning!" she said cheerfully. --- The next morning, the Great Lecture Hall. The vast stone space used for Tonsura Academy's all-school assembly was filled with morning light streaming through the arched high ceiling and windows on both sides. Students sat on long benches, faculty lined the platform. Murmurs echoed off the stone walls and bounced back. On the desk at the front row, small vials were lined up. Forced hair growth drug—a substance that forcibly grew hair through chemical means, permanently stripping a mage of their honor. The