I Can Only Cultivate In A Game

"The target is the same as before... Victor Revenant…" The voice was coming from the one wearing high-collared robes with their face concealed in darkness.

Derek's face contorted. "I'm done," he voiced with a hard tone.

This unknown figure in darkness chuckled. "Spineless now, are you? Afraid because your girlfriend dumped you?"

Derek fist clenched as he shot the figure a glare. "That's Amara's business—not yours..."

Although, Derek had said this with a tone of conviction, his mind couldn't help but wander a bit to a few days ago.

(( FLASHBACK ))

The artificial sun had dipped just beneath the horizon, casting a warm, fading glow over the training fields of the Awakened Academy.

The area behind the southern dorms was quiet and secluded... Amara had requested they met up here.

Derek stood with his back against the rust-red wall and his arms crossed. His combat boots were scuffed, and his black sleeveless shirt clung to him with faint sweat from earlier drills. His hair was slightly messy and that made him look effortlessly good.

Normally, he'd smirk but not right now.

Not when Amara looked like that.

She stood a few feet away with hands clasped behind her back. Her white-and-silver training uniform hugged her figure with the crest of the Awakened Academy stitched boldly on her shoulder.

Her chestnut hair was pulled up in a practical ponytail, but a few strands framed her face as the breeze picked up.

"I'm breaking up with you, Derek," she said plainly.

Derek blinked. Then chuckled once with a disbelieving tone. "You're... joking, right?"

Amara didn't flinch. "No."

The silence stretched, like it was daring him to make a scene. Derek stepped forward slowly, trying to keep the cocky grin he usually wore when teasing her.

"Come on, babe. What—because I skipped morning routine today? I told you already, Jenkins had a stick up his—"

"That's exactly what I mean," she voiced calmly. "You think this is all some edgy teenage rebellion playground. Like we're still in high school. Like you're still that bad boy who's too cool to follow rules, and I'm the hot girl who loves danger."

Her voice cracked slightly at the end, but she masked it with a deep breath.

"I did love it, Derek. I loved you."

Derek's grin faded.

"I loved having a boyfriend who didn't care what anyone thought. Who made me laugh. Who walked around with that stupid swagger like the world belonged to him." her voice lowered as she stepped closer. "But it's different now."

Her eyes gleamed under the dusk sky.

"This isn't high school anymore. This is war."

Derek swallowed hard.

"The Sylrith have overrun half of East. The Drakenar occupies almost every region in the world with higher than normal temperature... And the Umbryx? Besides occupying the most lands, they have abducted the highest amount of humans in history, reaching up to a billion..."

She looked up at him like she was searching for the boy she used to love.

"This isn't the time to act like a punk. People are dying, Derek. We were chosen to be here — we're supposed to be the front line. The ones humanity is counting on. You keep acting like a child. You keep not taking this seriously."

Derek looked away. "You don't get it."

"No," she said softly. "You don't."

The wind stirred her hair again. She let the silence stretch.

"I can't be near someone who's going to get themselves — or someone else — killed because they want to feel powerful." Her voice hardened. "And for what? To keep looking cool in front of your little gang?"

Derek looked like he wanted to say something — anything — but nothing came.

Amara stepped back.

"And one more thing," she called out with a quieter tone. "I like someone else."

That hit him like a gut punch. His eyes snapped up. "Who?"

She hesitated. Just for a heartbeat... before responding.

"Victor."

His eyes widened slightly.

"And yes, he only kissed me because I kissed him first..." Amara confessed and paused briefly before resuming.

"He's... annoying sometimes. Infuriating. Cocky as hell," a small, unintentional smile flickered before vanishing just as fast. "But he's honest. He's real. He doesn't pretend to be something he's not. And even though he jokes a lot, he cares. He takes this seriously unlike you. He doesn't cause trouble for others."

She met his gaze without fear.

"And in this world? That's what I need."

The silence that followed was unbearable.

Derek's hands slowly balled into fists at his sides, but he didn't raise his voice nor lash out.

He just stared at her like she was a battlefield he had just lost.

"…When?" he finally asked with a rough voice. "When did it happen?"

Amara shook her head. "It didn't 'happen.' It's just… there."

She started to walk past him, and as she did, she placed a hand gently on his arm.

"You can still be better, Derek," she said. "But I'm not going to wait around and hope anymore."

And with that, she walked away, leaving Derek behind standing in the orange shadows of a world growing too real for him to pretend in anymore.

-----

Derek's mind returned to the present.

"The sabotage plan…? Count me out"

"You still want an apology for nearly getting caught?" the one in the darkness, coaxed. "Don't be a coward. The young miss made sure you got out unscathed."

Derek gritted his teeth. "That gas thing—too far. You told me it was only going to knock him out so he could miss the competition. Instead he almost died."

The whisper in the gloom pressed. "So? What does it matter. He would have been out of your way regardless. Don't be so weak... always make sure you finish your enemies."

Derek shook his head and stepped back. "I can't. If you want any more sabotage, you do it. I only wanted to hurt him—not kill."

"Then you're weak," the voice sneered. "A B-rank weakling. Let me show you the courage it takes to strike at legends."

The figure tried to reach out but Derek slapped his hand away in anger.

"I won't risk putting myself in trouble for it. And if you and your young miss ever come close to me or try to reach out again, I'll blow the lid on this whole thing."

"You're worthless," the figure spat.

Derek scoffed. "Whatever. "

He proceeded to turn around and leave.

...

...

Meanwhile back at the training area, Victor efficiently parried Lilin attacks, using the wooden sword to guide her momentum past him, then gently pressed the tip against her side. "Excellent footwork," he praised. "But you need to maintain the same guard height to protect against counters."

Lilin lowered her blade with shining eyes. "Thank you. I felt my guard dip—I'll correct that."

...

...

Much later after lectures had ended for the day, a group of people seemed to be constituting nuisance at a particular location within the academy.

They were three warriors, a mage, and a berserker.

They towered over a group of D-ranked students, who winced as the awakened punks mocked them.

"Look at this one—face red as a tomato!" one jeered. He flicked dust into a student's eyes.

Their laughter made hearts sick. The academy never butted in on bullying when it involved higher ranked students against lower ranked.

In a way, they felt this was teaching them about how the real world was and that if they wanted things to be different, they'd have to handle it themselves... if they were strong enough.

The academy believed it would shape them and give them a stronger reason to want to be better.

However, if it went too far... they would step in. Unfortunately, this was still between the lines so there was no intervention.

The D-rankers crashed into the muddy wall, coughing violently as dust rose around them.

One tried to stand but was kicked back down by one of the warriors. His knuckles were wrapped in mana-threaded bands, already stained with blood. Two more D-rankers huddled nearby, bruised, trembling, and wide-eyed.

"C'mon! You lot said you wanted to get stronger, didn't you?" the sneering one mocked while cracking his knuckles and grinning. "Then what's wrong with a little extra training, huh?"

One of the D-rankers whimpered, "T-This isn't training... you broke my rib...!"

Another broad-shouldered warrior with his shirt hanging half-off like he thought it made him cool, grabbed the boy's collar and yanked him up with ease. "Well then maybe grow some new ribs, kid. You're Awakened, aren't you?"

The crowd of bullies snickered as they pushed, slapped, and "tested skills" on the helpless D rankers.

One of them even had a wooden staff he kept tripping students with and laughing whenever they fell on their faces.

One tried to crawl away.

Another stomp crushed his hand into the dirt.

As the abuse was dragged on, Derek Slate showed up.

His presence alone made two of the bullies pause mid-laugh. Derek walked in from the path, dressed in a plain dark-blue combat shirt with his hands in his pockets.

What made the bullies pause wasn't necessarily his presence or how suave he looked...

It was the expression on his face.

Anguish...

Regret...

"...Lay off," he muttered. "That's enough let's go."

The laughter died down slightly.

One of the goons with the staff, scoffed. "Come on, Derek. We're just getting started. You know these D-rankers need to toughen up if they want to survive outside. We're helping them."

"Yeah," said the broad-shouldered one. "They've got to learn how the world really works. No better way than right here, right now."

Derek's jaw tightened. He took another step forward with his hands still buried in his pockets. "I said enough. We're leaving. Together."

The lean one raised an eyebrow, clearly annoyed. "Derek, chill, man. We're just having fun."

"This isn't fun," Derek snapped. "They're..."

Before he could complete his statement...

"Hey," a voice rang out from behind.

Everyone turned and there he was:

Victor Revenant in the flesh... and by his side was Rylan.

Victor's eyes scanned the broken D-rankers, the laughing thugs, and finally—Derek.

His stare sharpened.

His body straightened.

Victor voice was like a cold slap of wind. "Again, Derek?"

Derek's brows furrowed. "Wait, no, it's not what—"