Arzen’s mind suddenly brought back to the extra chapter he had read. His eyes widened as a thought struck him. He turned his head towards Carsel, his brows furrowing in sudden realization.

Arzen realized that, since the two extra chapters were very short, he couldn’t be entirely sure about Carsel's character. Most of the passages about Carsel were told from Raizel's point of view, recalling his past interactions with him.

At that time, Arzen thought that if the cold and indifferent Raizel remembered something so detailed about someone, it could be because he liked him. Or, at the very least, this person must have been quite special to him. However, that was just his assumption as the reader. Since Raizel didn’t really describe his feelings regarding the interactions, it seemed more like he was stating facts or recalling memories.

As these thoughts filled his mind, Arzen noticed a group of girls nearby, whispering loudly as their eyes darted to Carsel with disapproval. The disdain in their voices was hard to miss, even from a distance.

One of the girls crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing with disdain as she whispered loudly, making no effort to hide her voice.

One of the girls crossed her arms, watching Carsel with a faint smirk masked as concern.

"Look at him, always hanging around Raizel. Poor guy, trying so hard to fit in."

Another girl brushed her hair back, her tone light but with an edge that hinted at the real judgment beneath.

"He’s the youngest Lancel, right? Compared to his brothers, he’s just… there. No talent, no achievements—just a pretty face. It’s gotta suck always being the disappointment."

The third girl leaned against the fence, her voice soft but laced with thinly veiled amusement.

"Yeah, his brothers are out there making names for themselves, and then there’s Carsel. He’s just stuck, I guess. Can’t really blame him for trying to… you know, charm his way up."

The first girl twirled a strand of her hair, giving a small shrug as if she were genuinely sympathetic, though her eyes told a different story.

"Honestly, what else can he do? Seducing someone rich is his best bet. He’s just playing his cards the only way he knows how."

The last girl snickered lightly, covering it with a fake smile as she watched Carsel.

"Yeah, you can’t really fault him. He’s just… trying to make it work, but it’s kind of obvious, isn’t it? Like, we all see what he’s doing."

Carsel overheard them, his expression unchanging as he played with the water bottle in his hands. He turned to face the girls with a calm smile.

"I know some guys in the media who would be thrilled to see talent like yours. Would you like my help contacting them? Such skills shouldn’t go to waste."

"What are you implying, Carsel?"

"Oh, nothing at all. Just admiring how you can make something out of nothing. It must be an innate talent."

The girls stiffened, not expecting his response. 

"At least we don't have to beg for attention."

One of the girls crossed her arms, her eyebrows furrowing as she met Carsel’s gaze, her stance firm and unwavering. Another girl glanced around nervously, while the third one subtly tugged on her friend's sleeve, sensing the tension rising. Carsel’s smile remained unfazed, his voice dripping with a mix of mockery and confidence.

"I am begging? Ahahahhaha, that’s funny coming from people who are begging for my attention just now." 

Carsel's smile remained unfaltering.

"Besides, Raizel and I are practically family. We've known each other since childhood, and our families are very close. I can be beside him anytime, any day. What begging? This is simply me caring about Raizel."

The girls exchanged glances, one of them frowning.

"If you're so close, would Raizel also act indifferent toward you?"

One of them challenged, trying to find a chink in Carsel’s narrative.

"That’s right. Is there even a difference in the way Raizel acts toward you and toward any of us? Pfft."

Carsel tilted his head slightly, his smile never wavering.

"Oh, but he does, in ways you probably wouldn't understand. It's not always about public displays. Our bond is deeper than that."

The girls looked momentarily taken aback, unsure how to counter that. With that, Carsel turned back to Raizel, calling out more encouragement, leaving the girls fuming in his wake.

The shrill sound of the referee’s whistle broke through the tension, signaling the end of the match. The match was already over, with class 2-3 winning by one point. The field was bustling with activity as students either celebrated or consoled each other. Raizel walked back to the bench, his expression as unreadable as ever, showing no signs of being affected by the loss.

Carsel followed, as persistent as ever, attempting to dab Raizel’s sweat with a towel but finding himself gently pushed aside. Unbothered, he handed Raizel a water bottle, which Raizel accepted silently, his demeanor unchanged.

Arzen watched it all unfold from the sidelines, his thoughts briefly interrupted by a light poke on his cheek. He turned to see Hanjun standing beside him, a playful smirk on Hanjun's face. 

Arzen's posture slightly stiffened as he tried to remain calm, his mind racing.

‘How does he always sneak up on me like this?’

"What do you want? This bench is for class 2-4, not 2-3."

Hanjun chuckled, stopping his playful poking when he saw Arzen's serious expression.

"Oh, come on, Zenzen. I just want to give a friendly reminder. You should beg the PE teacher to put you on the substitute player list. It'll be sad if your class loses again, won't it?"

Arzen rolled his eyes and clenched his fists, taking a deep breath to calm himself. He recalled this world's Arzen's memories of always being teased by Hanjun and how he tried to push back. Hanjun, for his part, couldn’t help but find Arzen’s reactions amusing; he always enjoyed getting a rise out of his friend, even if he didn’t quite understand why Arzen seemed more tense lately.

‘How did this world's Arzen manage to stay friends with this guy despite all the teasing?’

"Why would I beg the teacher? I'm... I'm fine playing in my group." 

Arzen straightened up his back and met Hanjun's gaze, trying to project confidence.

"Are you? Because last time I checked, you weren't exactly the star player."

Arzen paused, his mind drifting back to this world’s Arzen's lack of interest in sports. He remembered how this world's Arzen would run aimlessly and avoid the ball, not out of laziness but because of a lack of coordination and interest.

‘This world's Arzen really wasn't into sports, was he? I guess we do share that in common.’

"And you keep wandering around the field.”

"I don't wander. I just... have a unique playing style." 

Arzen mumbled, glancing at the field as his mind raced. He realized that his own athletic abilities weren't much better than this world’s Arzen’s.

"Unique? More like invisible."

Arzen's jaw tightened, and his shoulders squared as he struggled to maintain his composure. Hanjun's teasing was relentless, and no matter how much Arzen tried to brush it off, it always seemed to get to him.

"Maybe you should focus on your own classmates."

"I already won my game for my class. I worry about you because someone has to. Imagine how lost you'd be without my guidance."

“Guidance? More like nagging!” 

Arzen thought to himself, but the words slipped out before he could stop them. A jolt of panic gripped him; he hadn’t meant to react so instinctively. He’d been working so hard to carefully navigate every interaction, keeping himself in check. For a moment, his heart raced—he needed to be careful. But then he realized, ironically, this was exactly how this world’s Arzen would react to Hanjun: sharp, irritated, and snarky, perfectly in character.

Hanjun’s smirk widened, the teasing glint in his eyes softening into something more familiar. He felt a wave of relief; Arzen’s sharp retort was exactly what he’d been missing. For the first time today, Hanjun felt like his best friend was really back, acting just as he always did.

"Semantics, my dear Zenzen. Semantics."

Arzen shook his head, brows furrowing deeply as he crossed his arms and stared at the field. Even though he had acted just like this world’s Arzen would, it didn’t make him feel any less uncomfortable. He still struggled to understand how this world’s Arzen could be so close to someone so… unnerving.

"Seriously, don't you have anything better to do?"

"I am doing the best thing right now—annoying you."

Hanjun grinned and leaned closer. Arzen stiffened, feeling trapped as Hanjun’s teasing pressed in on him. He glanced away, wishing he could somehow escape this constant back-and-forth without raising suspicion.

"So you do realize you are annoying me…"

"Only because you secretly crave my attention."

Hanjun’s grin widened as he nudged Arzen playfully, but the familiar gesture only made Arzen feel more uneasy. He forced an eye roll, his response laced with forced sarcasm that he hoped sounded convincing enough.

"Yeah, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Hanjun chuckled, patting Arzen on the shoulder in a way that felt heavy, more like a reminder of the pressure Arzen constantly felt.

"Alright, Zenzen. Let's see your unique playing style in action."

Arzen’s thoughts churned as he stared at the field, feeling the tension knotting in his stomach.

‘Argh… Seriously.. Just.. leave me alone….’

Just then, the teacher's whistle blew, signaling the start of the game between Arzen's group, 2-4 B, and 2-3 B. The students gathered on the field, each settling into their positions with a mix of anticipation and tension. Carsel glanced toward Raizel, who sat on the sidelines with his usual cool, unreadable expression.

As the game kicked off, Arzen jogged lightly, trying to keep up with the flow of the match. He wasn’t the most athletic on the field, and it showed in his unpolished movements and the occasional misstep. Still, he focused on positioning himself correctly, passing the ball when he could and avoiding risky plays.

Carsel, on the other hand, kept glancing at Raizel as if every move was for his attention. Determined, Carsel kept charging forward, ignoring his teammates’ calls and trying to score on his own. But every time he got close, the other team easily intercepted, and his frustration grew with each failed attempt.

Arzen’s team quickly grew annoyed. Every time Carsel lost the ball, the groans and eye-rolls got louder. Danny, who had been calling out for passes only to be ignored, finally snapped. With an angry shove, he sent Carsel stumbling.

"What the hell is your problem, Carsel? You think you're the only one on this team?"

Danny’s face was flushed with anger, his patience long gone. Carsel staggered back, stunned by the sudden outburst. He glanced around, but his teammates were glaring at him too.

"I-I'm just trying to help us win."

Danny jabbed a finger at him. 

"Help us win? All you’re doing is losing us the game! You’ve been hogging the ball the whole time and haven’t scored once!"

Carsel looked desperate, his eyes darting from one player to another. 

"I thought I had a clear shot—"

"A clear shot? You ignored everyone else!" One of the students snapped. 

"This isn’t your solo act."

Another student crossed his arms.

"You're acting like a show-off, not a teammate."

"You're ruining the game for everyone!" 

The other players nodded, murmuring their agreement. Frustration hung heavy in the air as the tension escalated. Danny shoved Carsel again, his frustration boiling over.

"If you’re not gonna play with the team, then just get off the field!"

The teacher’s whistle pierced through the shouting, and she marched over, her face set in a hard frown. 

"Enough, all of you! This behavior is unacceptable. Carsel, take a seat on the bench."

"I'm really sorry, everyone. I didn't mean to cause any trouble."

Carsel swallowed hard, and with his shoulders slumped, he trudged to the bench. A group of his admirers quickly surrounded him on the bench, eager to comfort him.

"It's okay, Carsel, you did your best."

"Yeah, those guys were just being mean."

"Don't let them get to you, Carsel. You're an amazing player."

Danny watched from the field, his anger growing as he saw everyone paying attention to Carsel. The teacher's presence kept things from getting worse, but the tension was still there.

With Carsel off the field, the game changed. The players started passing better, talking more, and moving in sync. Arzen noticed the difference immediately; without Carsel hogging the ball, the team felt like a unit again. They played hard, determined to make up for lost ground, but time was against them. The final whistle blew, and the game ended 1-0 in favor of Class 2-3 Group B.

The students gathered around as the teacher announced Class 2-3 as the overall winners. As the groups began to disperse, Arzen let out a quiet sigh of relief. The next class was self-study, and he looked forward to finally getting a break.

As the students started heading back, Hanjun caught up with Arzen, grinning as usual. 

"See you later, Zenzen!" 

Hanjun said, giving Arzen a playful wave before heading off in the other direction. As he walked away, Hanjun felt lighter—Arzen seemed less nervous than yesterday and was acting more like his usual self. It was a small change, but enough to ease Hanjun’s worries.

Arzen forced a smile in return, feeling both relieved and worn out now that Hanjun was gone. His legs ached, and every step back to the classroom felt familiar, just like in his old world after PE. No matter where he was, he would always be tired after anything physical, something he had always hated.

After the game, the classroom returned to its usual routine. Students came back and immediately started changing out of their PE clothes. Arzen, like everyone else, slipped off his sweaty PE shirt and got back into his uniform, his muscles feeling the strain of the activity.

Once everyone was dressed, the atmosphere shifted into a relaxed but focused self-study period. Some students were hunched over their desks, scribbling notes and flipping through textbooks. Others were lost in their own worlds, reading novels or reviewing class material. There are also small groups of students formed in the corners gossiping.

Arzen, worn out from the game, sank into his chair and pulled out his notebook. Writing was something that felt familiar no matter where he was. He began jotting down ideas for his novel, sketching out plot twists and character notes, immersing himself in the process. One of the things that was also eerily similar between this world’s Arzen and himself was their shared love for writing.

He was halfway through a thought when a light tap on his desk snapped him out of it. Arzen looked up, his pen pausing mid-air. The voice that followed was unmistakable.

"Hi."

Arzen’s expression tightened, his concentration slipping as the rest of the room seemed to fade into the background.

'F*ck. Just my luck.'