The next second, Reever materialized inside his lobby.
The familiar space barely had time to register in his mind before he moved. Without pausing, without checking anything, he walked straight to the bed and threw himself onto it. The surface absorbed his weight, and almost immediately he shut down his conscience, forcing his thoughts into silence.
He was not physically tired. His body did not need rest. Yet something deeper than fatigue pressed down on him, a heavy residue left behind by the battlefield. The explosions, the helplessness, the certainty of dying again and again had carved grooves into his mind. He needed distance from it, even if only for a short while. He needed to forget that hell, even temporarily.
Darkness followed.
Early the next morning, he woke up, his eyes opening before his thoughts fully caught up. The first thing he did was lie there, staring at the ceiling, organizing himself. Panic did not come. Neither did dread. Only a dull awareness remained, like the echo after a loud noise.
After a moment, he sat up and began to plan his day.
"Today, I still have two compulsory matches," he muttered to himself. "Luckily they only take two hours of my day. But with me being in my lobby, with an eight times difference in time compared to the outside world, I might as well head out and save time."
His gaze drifted as calculations formed naturally in his head.
"I need to go to the library. I need more understanding of these compulsory matches," he resolved.
With that decision made, he summoned the system panel and began going through it.
"Ooh, I still have unread notifications."
His fingers moved through the interface as he opened them one by one.
"Another trap from the system," he muttered. "What is this 'One Inch to Death' title?"
Curiosity mixed with suspicion as he read through the small details the system provided. The more he read, the more his expression tightened.
"So basically," he said slowly, "the system is telling me to get myself beaten half to death so I can use the title."
He let out a tired sigh.
"As expected from the system."
He closed that window and moved on to the rest of the notifications.
[ No rewards gained from the match.
This was a compulsory training match meant for bots, and they have to play it.
Number of lives remaining: 28 lives. ]
"S**t."
The word slipped out through clenched teeth. Even though he had expected it, the confirmation still stung. His hands curled into fists, knuckles whitening as frustration surged through him. For a brief moment, he genuinely wanted to punch the system panel, to smash it and vent the anger boiling inside him.
The holographic interface shimmered calmly in front of him, untouched and untouchable.
"Tch."
"Well, whatever," he said quietly. "It's as expected the moment I became a bot."
The bitterness in his voice faded as quickly as it came. There was no point dwelling on it.
He selected the world community option.
The lobby vanished, and in the next instant, he materialized in front of the towering gates of the world community. The structure loomed with its familiar authority, indifferent to his personal struggles.
Reever summoned his entry pass and activated his human insignia. The bot insignia shimmered briefly before transforming into that of a human. Once the verification completed, he stepped forward and passed through the gate.
This time, Elderwood was nowhere near the entrance. Relieved, Reever did not linger and headed straight toward the library.
"Hello, Pixie," he greeted as soon as he stepped inside.
Pixie was seated behind the counter, her legs dangling slightly as she read a comic book with full concentration.
"Ooh, it's you," she said without looking up. "Welcome again to the library. As you can see, I'm busy, so speak your wishes quickly before I ignore you completely."
"What's with the mood today?" Reever said. "Well, never mind. I'm here to learn more about titles, so please help me out. Otherwise, I'll keep bugging you until you get annoyed."
As he spoke, he moved closer, stretched out his hands, and pinched Pixie's ear.
"Ouch!" Pixie shouted, her eyes watering instantly. "You're hurting me!"
"I'll let you go if you drop the comic and help me," Reever said with a grin, pinching her other ear for emphasis.
"Okay, okay! I'll help you!" she cried.
Satisfied, Reever released his grip.
"Hmph," Pixie huffed, rubbing her ears. "You're lucky I somehow like you. Otherwise, I would've banned you from this library like I did with Elderwood."
Her cheeks turned faintly red as she spoke.
"Ooh, so you like me," Reever said, grinning wider. "No worries. But I'm not interested in AIs or machines. Plus, you're too small for my liking."
He casually pointed toward her chest.
"You—!"
Pixie jumped forward and punched him squarely.
"Ouch," she cried immediately, shaking her hand. "What do you eat for supper? Your body's too tough."
"Well, you deserve—"
Reever never finished the sentence.
Pixie snapped her fingers.
The world blinked.
Reever materialized in front of a large screen, glowing softly, prompting him to enter the subject he wished to search for.
"…Figures," he muttered.
He typed in Title.
Almost instantly, the system displayed the shelf and compartment information, and a floating arrow appeared, guiding him deeper into the library. He followed it until he reached the indicated shelf, retrieved a pair of glasses, and headed straight for one of the reading bays.
Settling in, he put on the glasses and activated them.
"Let's see what these titles really are," he thought as the information began to unfold before his eyes.