'Wait, I'm Supposed to Become a Goddess?! But I'm a Guy!'

Hearing the man’s flat response about the price, Mize’s face fell, but only briefly.

His cheeks puffed out in an adorable pout, arms crossed, with his small fists clenched at his sides.

He wanted to stomp his foot in frustration but stopped himself, knowing it’d make him look a bit too bratty.

So instead, he glared up at the man with fierce eyes, like a kitten trying to scold a tiger.

The man couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight, fighting the urge to ruffle Mize’s hair.

“Look, Miss…” he said, trying to keep a straight face. “Pouting won’t get you that dish, no matter how cute it is.”

He gave her a wry smile, looking like he’d rather help but couldn’t risk it.

His boss had been crystal clear about staying out of trouble at the school, and he knew better than to bend the rules, no matter how much he wanted to help this girl get her dish.

With a sigh, he folded the menu and placed it on the counter, waiting for Mize to finish her sulking.

Around them, other students had started to notice.

Some stopped mid-stride to watch the unusual scene, curious and entertained, while others exchanged amused glances.

No one dared to approach... anyone in city recognized the insignia on the stall. Guild vendors weren’t exactly known for being approachable.

Meanwhile, Mize wasn’t planning on throwing a full-blown tantrum, he just liked testing the man’s patience a little, adding some color to his day.

Besides, he figured a bit of playful drama couldn’t hurt.

Just as he was about to push things further, someone else stepped into the scene, a hand reaching in from the side.

It was the same hooded boy from the bus, now walking up with a stride that was surprisingly confident compared to earlier.

His face was no longer tucked under his hood, instead... he faced openly.

All eyes turned to the boy as he approached, his shoulders back, no longer hiding or shuffling.

The boy had this aloof, almost stoic look on his face, though Mize caught the faintest flicker of something… familiar.

Longing.

Maybe?

Just for a second before he turned to the stall vendor, his voice suddenly loud enough for the whole area to hear.

"Let me pay for her, anything she wants," he muttered softly. Mize barely kept himself from wincing.

'Eh?' Mize started to speculate, 'isn't this too sudden? What kind of development is this?'

[An illogical one, host]

'No way... '

'Is this for real? Just half an hour ago, this kid had been practically hiding under his hood, avoiding eye contact, and now he was swaggering up, ready to throw cash around'

Mize’s face was a mixture of shock and... confusion, mainly trying to decide what expression even made sense right now.

The guy behind the counter wasn’t hiding his surprise either, and he took a second to let the words sink in.

“You’re sure, kid?” The vendor’s tone dropped to something more ominous, giving the boy a hard stare. “You do realize how expensive her meal is?”

He folded his arms across his massive chest, and any friendliness from before evaporated into a distant, unforgiving look.

But the boy held his ground, unfazed.

As all this unfolded, Mize’s mind was spinning with something else entirely.

He shot a thought inward, almost like a routine reflex by now.

'System, don’t tell me… did this kid’s powers awaken today? Right after I met him?'

He figured it had to be impossible, just one of those wild thoughts.

But what if…?

The system answered promptly, its tone almost mechanical but with an edge of urgency.

[Yes, host. The protagonist’s “golden finger” was activated directly under your influence. There’s a new development too, a mutation in the system due to your interference.]

“Mutation?” Mize’s brow arched, intrigued.

'So a mutation somehow can turn a shy boy into a daring man in a mere 30 minutes time?'

[The protagonist’s system has been enhanced, extending his growth potential far beyond what it originally was. Initially, he would have peaked within this world’s boundaries. Now, his strength may evolve without limits, to an undefined scale, possibly beyond this universe.]

[And please host, do not judge these protagonist with the same logic applied to everyone else]

[They were meant to operate outside of logic. Fate seems to favour these type of people deeply]

[One moment they can be weak, and another moment, they might suddenly turned into a world destroying creatures, anything can happen when it comes to the son of destiny]

Mize took that in with a hint of unease. 'And that’s… good, right?' The system’s tone, though clinical, felt oddly ominous. h

[The protagonist is no ordinary hero, host. He is a villain, a protagonist with a dark destiny, driven by forces counter to yours. But it also can accommodate yours]

The realization hit like a cold splash, and for a split second, Mize’s gaze shifted to the boy, a flicker of wariness seeping through his otherwise composed look.

'I am cooked aren't I?'

[Yes host, if the villain were to know your true gender, you are sure to cease to exist]

If he was going to survive, he’d need to tread carefully, maybe keep playing along… for now.

With a delicate step forward, Mize let his face soften, eyes shimmering in a feigned vulnerability that looked all too real.

He brought a hand up to his chest, hair cascading in loose waves as he stared at the boy.

“Are you doing this out of pity?” he asked, voice trembling just slightly.

His tone shifted as if he were wounded by the implication. “Or are you mocking me for being poor?"

The question hung in the air, sounding more genuine than he’d intended.

Then as if the universe were mocking his effort to break free from this curse, a voice came from the crowd, as a group of students headed by a red-haired boy came through the crowd.

"What do we have here? A toad wanting to get close to the swan?"

"Oh? Liam the loser is so brave today? huh... "

The sudden shift in the crowd was as predictable as it was exhausting.

The loud voice, calling out Liam’s name with so much smugness, almost made Mize groan.

Here it was, the face-slapping scene, a cringe-worthy classic.

Mize fought the urge to roll his eyes, cursing himself for getting trapped in a predictable setup like this.

He glanced around, desperately scanning for some excuse to leave, maybe the heroine swooping in with her predictable intervention.

But, of course, she was nowhere in sight.

The boy who stepped up was the picture-perfect stereotype: fiery red hair, smug smirk, and a troop of followers tailing him like some entourage in a cheesy teen drama.

He had that swagger of someone who was used to being adored, practically dripping with cockiness as he made his way over.

“Is he bothering you, miss?” he asked with a mock concern that barely masked his arrogance.

His eyes flickered to Mize, sharp and calculating, waiting for a cue to jump in.

And sure enough, when Mize gave an awkward response, looking anywhere but at him, the boy’s smirk deepened.

“Oh, come on, there’s no need to be shy. You don’t need to put up with someone like him.” He looked back at Liam, sizing him up with that same lazy contempt, then turning back to Mize.

He closed in, his hand moving towards Mize’s waist, the whole scene teetering on the edge of a bad soap opera.

Out of pure reflex, Mize took a subtle step back, eyes widening slightly. “Uh, no… really, it’s fine,” he murmured, keeping his tone small, even though his mind was screaming for a way out.

He felt Liam’s gaze still on him, probably just as baffled by all this as he was.

But for now, he had to keep up the harmless act, to keep both these peacocks from throwing down over some manufactured misunderstanding.

The crowd watched, eager for the drama to unfold, some already chuckling under their breath.

Mize couldn’t help but think how absurd it all was.

Liam, the once-quiet loner, suddenly played the knight in shining armor, and this redhead stepped in as if he owned the place.

What had he gotten himself into?

But then something shifted in Liam’s expression.

That longing, that flicker of… understanding? It resurfaced, just for a moment, breaking through the bravado.

He took a step forward, his voice low and oddly steady. “If you don’t want me here, I’ll go. But…” he trailed off, a half-smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I don’t think you do.”

Mize blinked, caught off guard.

'What the hell? Is this a tv show with a script?'

'Am I suppose to blush or something?'

But before he could puzzle it out, Redhead scoffed, louder than necessary.

“Didn’t I make myself clear, loser?” He glared at Liam, clearly reveling in his role as the knight.

Liam didn’t even flinch. He stood there, totally unfazed, his eyes locked on Mize with this cool, unreadable stare.

Meanwhile, Redhead looked like he was about two seconds away from blowing a fuse, that arrogant smirk slipping as his eyes narrowed.

Then, Mize finally decided to take this matter into his own hand.

'Man up or so'

He took a breath, moved forward a little, and then did his best to channel every ounce of shy but brave energy he could muster.

One hand pressed to his chest, eyes looking a little shiny, he spoke just loud enough for everyone to hear: “Stop this... at once.”

The whole crowd froze like someone had hit a pause. Mize felt every single stare turn his way.

Even Redhead looked thrown for a second, his usual cocky mask slipping into surprise.

It was there and gone in a flash, but Mize caught it, a spark of something new, like maybe he’d gotten Redhead’s attention a bit more than he’d planned.

And not in a good way.

'Well, he will be gone on his own anyway. No one can escape alive after insulting a villain, no one... According to novels that is.'

Mize’s cheeks burned, and he quickly dropped his gaze, feeling about as tiny as possible under the weight of all those eyes.

Out of nowhere, Liam let out this low chuckle, soft but way too amused, and somehow that just made Mize feel a hundred times more embarrassed.

He could feel the flush creeping up his neck, and he wanted to scold Liam right there, but he knew better.

Keep it together. Just keep the act going.

Without another word, he spun on his heel and walked away, his steps as quick and steady as he could manage.

His hands were balled into little fists, his whole body practically buzzing with the effort to hold it together, and he could feel that damn blush spreading across his face.

A few tears gathered in his eyes, right on cue, and the effect was perfect.

Mize had nailed the “damsel in distress” look whether he wanted to or not...

Behind him, everyone was still just... standing there, dumbfounded.

His little “performance” had worked a little too well.

They just watched him go, in complete shock. And he could feel it.

He’d just earned himself a reputation as one of the school’s “flowers”, delicate, sweet, and, unfortunately for him, now unforgettable.

No one stepped forward to stop him. The crowd just parted, letting him pass like he was some fragile glass figurine that might shatter at any second.

Liam and Redhead shot each other one last nasty look as Mize disappeared around the corner.

Once he was out of sight, Mize let out a long, shaky breath and hurriedly ran with his little feet.