Camera emitted a sound suspiciously close to a groan.
'You made that up.'
TIS only winked, folding his hands behind his head.
"Maybe.
Maybe not."
The old inn creaked gently around them, and outside, the sea kept breathing.
The ceiling fan creaked softly above them, spinning in slow, lazy circles.
Outside the open window, the sound of waves faded into a background hum, and the smell of salt lingered in the warm afternoon air.
Camera floated near the bookshelf, its lens flicking back and forth like it was pacing in thought.
'Still no signs at all... is it always like this?' it asked, voice low.
TIS, sprawled across the sofa like he owned the place, gave a sleepy nod.
"Uh-huh," he replied. "Hidden Route, that is.
Be it IDC, there will be a gigantic invisible timer in the sky that counts down.
If you fail to find the IDC before the time, the Route — or Verse — gets eliminated, destroyed, erased."
He yawned dramatically, tossing a cushion onto the floor like it personally offended him.
"Buuut since this is Hidden Route," he continued, "I can still take some time to rest before we actually find it."
Camera tilted slightly, the faint mechanical hum signaling thought.
'Honestly, TIS... what is the HR in this world, you think it is?'
TIS rubbed his eye with the heel of his palm and blinked lazily toward the ceiling.
"Definitely related to Mizuhara, honestly..." he said.
Then turned his head toward Camera, smirking faintly.
"What? You want to suggest something?"
Camera hesitated — or, rather, buzzed for half a second longer than usual.
'How do you know? I don't have expressions.'
TIS grinned, folding one arm behind his head.
"Why not?" he said, as if that explained everything.
Camera floated in silence for a moment.
Its lens whirred once, then turned slightly toward the window —
out toward the city, the waves, and the distant apartment where Mizuhara still sat, unaware she might be part of something far bigger than herself.
The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the inn's wooden floor.
TIS had now migrated from the sofa to a reclined position on the carpet, his back resting against a stack of unused floor cushions.
Camera floated a few feet above him, lens slowly panning toward the window like it was watching time slip away.
'I think we should take the initiative—' Camera began.
TIS raised a finger midair, eyes half-closed.
"And force the HR to be triggered?
Oh yeah, MY KIND— HR is short for Hidden Route..."
He sat up a bit, clearing his throat like a bad lecturer.
"Anyway, force the—"
'Yeah, that. You don't need to say it twice,' Camera cut in, voice dry.
TIS snorted a laugh, resting his elbows on his knees.
"We could do that," he said, now sounding a bit more serious.
"But just like the Metacholine bronchoconstriction test, it's quite dangerous."
He looked up at the ceiling fan, watching its blades circle like a slow, hypnotic countdown.
"Then again," he added with a smirk,
"if you want to try it, we can directly attack the main character.
That usually does it."
Camera went quiet for a moment, hovering in place like a drone trapped between logic and horror.
'You say that like it's just flipping a switch,' it buzzed cautiously.
TIS gave a lazy shrug.
"In fiction, it kinda is."
TIS sat cross-legged in the center of the room, flipping the cap off one of his massive plastic water bottles like it held the secret to the universe.
Camera hovered nearby, still digesting the implications of "attack the main character".
'Welll... okay then...' Camera said, uncertain.
TIS gave a regal nod, as if sealing a grand treaty.
"Very well. I'll take a drink first."
He lifted the bottle with both hands and began gulping with exaggerated grace.
Glu-glu-glu...
"Go scan the location of the main character," he added between gulps.
"Don't interrupt my beautiful drinking water moment."
Camera hovered in place, unimpressed.
'Alright... Scanning the world now'
A soft pulse spread invisibly from its lens, sweeping across the Verse like sonar through a digital ocean.
TIS kept drinking, his eyes closed in near-spiritual bliss.
A few seconds later—
'Oh. The main character just got isekai'd,' Camera reported.
'And… he is now fighting the typical cocky guy.'
TIS opened one eye, lowering his water bottle.
"Ohhh, the one that typically gets ridiculously bodied, right?"
'Yeah, that annoying cocky bi*** attitude character... they are annoying, honestly.'
TIS paused, eyes glancing sideways thoughtfully.
"Yeah you're right," he said. "But don't be so judgmental toward them —
if they haven't attacked you, that is."
He stood up slowly, stretching his limbs.
"They could be just a person that's always ignored.
Unheard. Unappreciated.
Or maybe… have a deep trauma."
Camera hovered in silence for a moment.
'...You are surprisingly—'
TIS cut it off with a grin and a finger gun.
"I'll be going first, byeee."
In one smooth motion, he pulled a sleek, black-edged sword that is placed on the side of the room earlier.
With a single swipe, the air in front of him tore open like paper — revealing a swirling, glowing rift.
Wind rushed from the tear, tugging at the curtains and shaking the old ceiling fan.
TIS gave a lazy salute, then stepped into the portal without hesitation — the edges sealing behind him like it had never been there.
Camera floated alone in the quiet room, lens still pointed at where the portal had been.
It buzzed softly.
'...surprisingly thoughtful. And deeply chaotic.'
Then it, too, vanished — blinking out of sight in a pulse of blue light.
Camera blinked into existence a split second after TIS, its lens adjusting rapidly to the sudden change in scenery.
They had arrived.
Before them sprawled the quintessential adventurer town — the kind found in every respectable isekai anime.
The streets were lined with cobblestone paths that shimmered slightly under the afternoon sun. Wooden buildings with red-tiled roofs leaned slightly toward each other, their flower-filled windows wide open to let in the breeze.
Colorful banners fluttered between posts, marking the entrance to cozy cafés, blacksmith forges, and bustling magic shops. Horse-drawn carts rumbled past, carrying crates of glowing herbs, enchanted tools, and overly dramatic pumpkins.
In the distance, a crystalline fountain bubbled gently at the town center, where adventurers in mismatched armor gathered to boast about quests and complain about slime encounters.
A pair of winged familiars chased each other through the sky overhead, leaving glimmering trails behind them.
It was picture-perfect.
TIS stepped forward into the scene like a tourist who had somehow wandered in without paying for a ticket.
"Hello…" he muttered casually.
Then he turned slightly, speaking just loud enough for the world to hear him.
"By the way, my kind, that salute earlier? Totally just a joke. Don't report me, please."
Camera hovered beside him.
'Is something wrong with that salute?' it asked, lens tilting curiously.
"Totally nothing," TIS replied far too quickly, grinning awkwardly.
Camera buzzed softly.
'Weird… Anyhow, the main character is about to show his cheat skill he obtained.'
TIS raised an eyebrow, scanning the scenery.
"Okay… in that guild?" he asked, nodding toward a large stone-and-wood building with a glowing crest above its doors.
'Yup.'
Right on cue, the building sparkled dramatically — golden light spilling from the stained glass windows, as if someone had just flipped a magic switch labeled "plot relevance."
TIS smirked.
"Hah. That guild just shines just now."
'LOLLL,' Camera replied, unable to resist a flicker of amusement.
TIS squinted at the glowing guild hall, tilting his head.
"By the way… I forgot the MC backstory," he muttered.
"Care to relive me? Just a short brief tho."
Camera emitted a small, almost disappointed whirr — like a student tired of explaining a syllabus for the tenth time.
'Alright. Short version: Truck-kun.
Reincarnated as a 17-year-old farm boy with a deadpan face and black hair that covers one eye.
Abused by noble family. Banished. Accidentally awakened a forbidden artifact in a ruin.
Now he has a cheat ability called 'Absolute Rewrite.'
He can rewrite any rule of the world — but only once every 24 hours.'
TIS blinked slowly.
"Ah… Classic package."
'Premium edition,' Camera added dryly.
Camera buzzed softly, scanning the guild's outer structure.
'They're usually called backup goons, or cannon-fodder friends. You know, the ones who laugh like "KUHAHAHA" behind the main jerk.'
TIS snapped his fingers.
"Yes! Those ones. Perfect."
He pulled out a tattered cloak from his inventory — brown, dusty, and suspiciously stained.
"Disguise mode: activated," he grinned.
Camera dimmed its light slightly.
'You realize you already look suspicious even without the cloak, right?'
"Exactly," TIS said, throwing it over his shoulders with a dramatic flair.
"That's what makes it flawless."
And with that, he strolled toward the guild entrance like he belonged to the most disposable squad in the story.
Camera's lens twitched, suddenly locking onto a heat spike inside the guild.
'There! The MC has just used his ability to rewrite the rule that is fire magic limitations on his body! HE CAN NOW CONTROL FIRE UP TO HIGHEST GRADE!'
Flames erupted from within the guild, glowing red and gold behind the stained-glass windows.
TIS blinked slowly, the dramatic explosions clearly happening just meters away.
"Okay… NOW… what is the MC name again? I'm basically Professor Oak here..."
KA-BOOM!
A wall of the guild exploded outward, sending a spray of stone and flame through the street.
Three of the cocky guy's goons were flung like ragdolls through the air, crashing into carts and food stalls, some scorched, some smoking.
The crowd screamed and scattered. Smoke billowed from the broken wall.
Camera hovered forward.
'NOW, TIS. Go there.'
TIS held up a finger, taking one step back.
"Wait… I forgot the name of the main character!"
Camera didn't wait.
It slammed into TIS's back with a solid push.
TIS yelped — "H-hey—!" — and tumbled forward, straight through the smoke, cape flapping uselessly behind him.
He crashed hard onto the scorched guild floor, landing with a thud —
right at the feet of the gooner king — the cocky guy himself, shirt half-burnt, still smirking despite the chaos.
A silence fell over the battlefield as everyone turned to stare at the mysterious cloaked figure who had just fallen from the sky… dramatically.
TIS lifted his face from the floor.
"Ow."
TIS took a slight look at the cocky guy, who, despite his trembling legs and scorched uniform, still forced himself to stand tall.
The guy's chest heaved with uneven breaths, smoke rising from his shoulders where his armor had melted.
His hair was singed at the tips, but his expression…
Oh, that expression.
Pure arrogance molded into a smirk.
He jabbed a shaking finger toward the MC, who stood silently amid the smoke, eyes glowing faintly with lingering fire magic.
"You…!" the cocky guy snarled.
"You think just because you got some flashy cheat skill, you can upstage me?!"
He spat on the ground dramatically, then pulled a dagger from his belt and pointed it sideways — toward the barely-conscious woman lying just behind him, the same one the MC had saved earlier.
"Let me remind you, filth — this world isn't ruled by power, it's ruled by status!"
His grin widened.
"And I, Lance Arvignar, heir to the Silver Lion House, will now execute this wench — and you will watch, helpless, like the worthless gutter-spawn you are!"
His voice cracked slightly on "Silver Lion," but he powered through like a true performer refusing to break character.
He raised the dagger high, eyes wild.
"And after that, I'll erase your pathetic name from this world's history before it's even written!!"
TIS brushed the soot off his cloak casually, watching the tension spike in the room.
[So he's that type huh,] murmured Ryndall — the MC — his eyes narrowing at Lance.
[People like this... always end up troubling others,] he muttered as his hand lifted, gathering flame without needing a chant.
A glowing crimson aura built around his fist — silent but furious — and the floor beneath him began to shimmer from the rising heat.
TIS tilted his head with mild amusement.
"Oh... looks like he's the anti-naive MC," he muttered.
"Hey Camera, what's his name again?"
Camera responded instantly, voice cool as always.
'MC's name is Ryndall.'
Lance Arvignar, cocky no longer, took one shaky step back.
His dagger dropped with a clatter. His breathing turned to wheezing.
Then—
A wet spot spread down the front of his pants.
He had peed himself.
The crowd of adventurers watching recoiled with a mixture of pity, horror, and low-key satisfaction.
TIS winced.
"...Oof."
But before anyone else could speak, TIS's attention snapped to the edge of the guild entrance —
Where an elderly woman, wrapped in layers of faded robes and barely able to walk, was slowly making her way through the crowd, cane in one hand, the other reaching toward Lance.
Her face was creased with age, eyes foggy, but something in them was focused.
Determined.
TIS narrowed his gaze slightly.
"Now that's new..."
Ryndall's flames swirled around his hand, condensing into a gleaming blade of pure fire.
With a single step forward, he raised it high — then slammed it down toward Lance, flames roaring along its edge.
But before the strike could land—
TIS blurred into motion.
With one swift move, he grabbed Lance by the collar and yanked him aside, just milliseconds before the blade would've hit.
The sword missed completely, cracking the floor where Lance had stood.
Flames licked the air, then dissipated just before touching the ground.
TIS landed with a roll and gently placed Lance beside the approaching old woman — close enough that the two were nearly leaning on each other.
Ryndall froze, eyes wide.
He quickly dispelled the remaining fire with a burst of will, the heat vanishing in an instant.
He stared at TIS, confused and cautious.
TIS stood up slowly, brushing his arm like nothing had happened.
"Good thi... thi... good thing we quick to dodge that, boss..."
he muttered to Lance, whose entire body was locked in terrified spasms, on the brink of passing out.
As TIS dusted him off, the old lady, now beside Lance, gently reached out with frail hands and began caressing his shoulders — not in panic, but in quiet, soothing motions.
Her eyes were calm. Focused. Protective.
The crowd, meanwhile, had shifted their gaze — no longer on Lance, but to Ryndall.
Whispers rose.
[That flame… did you see it?]
[He didn't even chant…!]
[That's the real deal…]
People began nodding, murmuring praise, some even clapping quietly at the sheer control and power Ryndall had just displayed.
TIS noticed this — and with a small flick of his hand behind his back, he gave a subtle signal to the old lady.
She nodded slightly… and began dragging Lance away, slow but determined.
Then TIS turned sharply toward Ryndall, voice rising, laced with theatrical fury.
"HEY... YOU!" he bellowed, stepping forward and jabbing a finger at Ryndall.
"DON'T THINK YOU ARE ABLE TO DEFEAT US LIKE THIS!!!"
The crowd gasped.
Even Ryndall raised an eyebrow.
TIS's face stayed firm. But behind that fury... he was already calculating his next move.
[Why did you attack her?]
Ryndall's voice cut through the guild, calm but heavy — eyes locked onto TIS as he pointed directly at him.
The crowd turned toward TIS again, expressions shifting — uncertain whether they were witnessing a confrontation… or a cover-up.
But Ryndall hadn't seen it.
No one had.
The old lady had already slipped past the outer ring of the guild's ruin, vanishing into the dispersing smoke with Lance half-dragged beside her.
The moment she left TIS's side, it was as if she had been erased from awareness — her presence gone so subtly, no one questioned it.
To them, she might as well have never been there.
Camera hovered silently just behind a beam.
'Oh great… TIS, think of an answer that the cockies always say,' it whispered into his ear.
TIS didn't blink.
He exhaled slowly, still playing the role — but now under pressure.
"No can do..." he whispered softly back to Camera, not moving his lips.
"This guy is testing me.
He's not asking about the old lady — he thinks I attacked someone.
He didn't even realize she's gone."
Camera's lens whirred.
'What? That means—'
But before it could finish, a soft light shimmered behind Ryndall.
The healer girl stepped partially into view — her staff clutched tightly, hair flowing like pale silk, her eyes wide with wariness.
Still half-hiding behind Ryndall, she watched with quiet intensity.
She didn't say anything.
But her gaze stayed locked on TIS — watching.
Waiting.