I, the spiritual mentor of beautiful girls from all over the world

"boom!"

A deafening roar, like a thunderclap from a clear sky, suddenly exploded!

The already rickety wooden door to the storage room was kicked into pieces from the outside in an extremely violent manner!

Wood chips and dust filled the air.

A tall figure stood against the light at the broken doorway, the afterglow of the setting sun outlining a golden circle behind him, making him look like a god emerging from hell.

A languid, calm, yet chilling voice that seemed to freeze the air itself slowly rose into the air.

"Get your dirty hands off my students."

The three thugs in the storage room were startled by this sudden turn of events and turned their heads in unison.

When the man in the lead, blond-haired, saw that the newcomer was just a young man dressed in casual clothes, he was stunned for a moment, then his anger flared up.

"Who the hell are you?! How dare you meddle in my business? You're asking for it!"

He felt his authority had been challenged when his "good time" was interrupted by a seemingly harmless guy.

He roared, gathering all his anger into his fist, and slammed it hard towards Lynn's face!

Goto Doku's heart stopped beating.

However, Lynn didn't even lift his eyelids.

He also reached out his hand just a split second before the fist hit his face.

It wasn't a block, nor a grappling move; it was simply a light, unhurried touch with the index and middle fingers on the outstretched wrist.

It was as if it were an unintentional touch.

"Crack!"

A soft yet chillingly clear cracking sound.

Before Huang Mao's scream could even escape his throat, it was abruptly cut off as another hand reached out and precisely pressed on a nerve node in his jaw, turning it into a series of incomprehensible groans.

He collapsed to the ground as if his spine had been removed, convulsing violently.

The other two were completely dumbfounded.

There were no earth-shattering collisions, no dazzling fights.

Their leader was crippled just from being "touched" like that.

This incomprehensible eeriness is more terrifying than any violence.

Lynn's gaze finally shifted from the puddle of mud on the ground to the remaining two people.

There was no anger or murderous intent in those languid eyes, only a pure disgust, like looking at trash.

"Next one, or... together?"

This sentence became the last straw that broke the camel's back.

The two let out a strange cry. One turned around and tried to run away, while the other desperately and hysterically swung the iron bar in his hand at Lynn!

Lynn sighed, seemingly genuinely annoyed by this waste of time.

He sidestepped the iron bar, and then, in the instant the man rushed past him...

He bent his fingers and tapped the side of the knee of the leg that supported him as he ran with his knuckles, neither too hard nor too soft.

"Boom."

There was a muffled sound.

The thug instantly lost his balance and fell forward in an extremely contorted position, his kneecap shattering on the floor with an even more horrifying cracking sound than before.

The one who tried to escape was struck precisely on the back of the neck by a small pebble that Lynn casually picked up, his eyes rolled back, and he passed out cleanly and decisively.

From beginning to end, Lynn didn't even move an inch.

He stood between the three "corpses," his face expressionless. He simply patted the dust off his clothes as if he had just done something insignificant.

Then, he walked to the corner, picked up the guitar that had been thrown on the ground, and carefully examined it to confirm that the body of the guitar was intact.

He picked up the pink tracksuit that the thugs had torn off.

At last.

He walked up to Goto Doku, who was still slumped on the ground, completely dumbfounded, and half-squatted down.

He gently and tenderly draped the tracksuit, still warm from his body, over her shoulders, which were cold from shock.

Goto was completely stunned.

She stared blankly at the man in front of her.

He was completely unharmed, and his breathing was perfectly normal.

Watching him calmly complete all of this, it was as if he had just casually cleaned up a few unsightly bugs.

My mind went blank; I even forgot my fear.

(This can't be real... What is this? A new VR game? The special effects are so realistic...)

Her cognitive system instinctively began to distort reality into a "setting" that she could understand.

(Is the teacher...some kind of hidden profession? Like...'Human Structure Destroyer'? Or 'Causality Interferator'? His skills are...'A Light Touch' and 'A Casual Knock'...)

But when she saw the thugs' faces contorted in pain and smelled the real stench of blood in the air, her fragile "game plan" was ruthlessly shattered by reality.

This is not a game.

Then, a second emotion surged up—fear.

But this fear was completely different from the fear I felt when I was surrounded by thugs.

The fear at that time was the fear of being "hurt".

The fear we feel now stems from a primal awe of the "unknown forces."

It's like the first time primitive people saw lightning strike a tree in half.

It was a kind of violence and beauty that transcended comprehension and could only be worshipped, an ultimate form of violence and beauty.

Thus, in the deepest part of fear, a third emotion was born—a tremor known as "miracle."

The teacher who always smiled gently and said she was "very interesting".

That teacher who would patiently listen to her rambling, delusional rants in the Service Department.

The teacher who led her through that clumsy dance at the bonfire party.

And this person in front of me... who cripples a person with just two fingers, whose eyes are as cold as if judging all living beings... a "god".

Is 877 the same person?

Finally, when Lynn gently draped the tracksuit, still warm from his body, over her, that tenderness became the last straw that broke her back.

The fourth and deepest layer of emotion, like cold silt, completely engulfed her.

It is "self-loathing".

……

The crisis has been resolved.

But a second crisis followed.

Lynn knew that for Goto Doku, the real hell had only just begun.

He didn't rush to help her up.

Because in his field of vision of [emotional perception], the pinkish-blue light that represented Goto's uniqueness and was inherently fragile did not brighten with relief at the moment of being saved.

Quite the opposite.

A cold, viscous, black substance, like silt, was gushing out wildly from the core of the light cluster.

That is a deeper and more destructive emotion than fear—self-loathing.

This black mud is rapidly polluting and devouring her last glimmer of light.

(ah……)

(Gods...because of trash like me...)

(...it got dirty.)

This thought, like a bottomless crack, suddenly opened up in her mental world.

Lynn watched as she slumped to the ground, hugging her knees and curling up in a ball, her body trembling violently, but she bit her lip tightly to keep herself from making a sound, only tears silently streaming down her face.

She is carrying out a silent, self-destructive torture in her own way.

Lynn stopped wiping the dust off the guitar.

He walked slowly to her and squatted down.

This action is exactly the same as the one at the bonfire party.

"I……"

A broken, nasal syllable squeezed out of her throat.

Goto raised his head, his pale face streaked with tears, and his eyes filled with desperate pleading.

"I...I can't...I can't go on stage..."

"I'm not a hero... I'm just trash... I only know how to mess everything up..."

Lynn looked at her quietly, at the light in her eyes that was about to be completely submerged by the black mud.

He knew that ordinary words of comfort would be meaningless to her at this moment.

He can't tell someone who firmly believes they are "trash" that "you are not trash".

Can only...

Use an even more illogical, "divine" logic to completely overwrite her logic.

So he spoke.

Chapter 114: The Definition of Becoming a Hero

It was a gentle command, completely different from the coldness of before, yet more authoritative and less open to challenge than ever before.

"Look at me, Goto-kun."

"Goto Doku, are you scared?"

Goto was stunned, as if he hadn't understood the question, but he nodded subconsciously, and his tears fell even more fiercely.

"What are you afraid of?" Lynn continued to ask.

“I’m afraid… of the stage… of other people’s gaze… of… of messing everything up…” she choked up, barely able to speak.

"I'm afraid of letting everyone down... I'm afraid of turning back into a single person..."

“Yes, that does sound terrifying.” Lynn nodded, as if she completely agreed with her fear.

Then, he abruptly changed the subject and asked a question that instantly put her mind at a loss.

"Do you think heroes are afraid?"

hero?

Goto stared at him blankly, forgetting even to cry.

In her fear-filled world, "hero" is an absolute concept—they are powerful, confident, and never afraid.

Fear is something that belongs to people like her, to dark characters like her.

So, she subconsciously and forcefully shook her head.

A voice barely audible escaped her throat:

"Do not……"

"Heroes...are not afraid."

"Who told you that heroes aren't afraid?"