Verdia was beautiful this time of year.
Xian Yao watched the sunset paint the city's red-tiled roofs in shades of copper and gold, a warm cup of tea steaming in his hands. Three months had passed since he'd woken up in this world—some kind of classic isekai situation, complete with a convenient system interface and everything. Honestly? Could've been worse. Way worse.
No tentacle monsters so far. That was a win in his book.
His status screen floated at the edge of his vision, translucent and unobtrusive. Level 23. Class: Sage Strategist.Not the flashiest class, sure, but the abilities were solid: [Total Analysis], [Probability Simulation],[Flow Manipulation]. Basically, he could read situations like a computer running calculations. Pretty handy for not dying.
"Xian!"
The door burst open and Mira practically bounced into the room, her auburn ponytail swinging. She had that look—the one that meant either really good news or really complicated news. Possibly both.
"Let me guess," Xian said, not looking up from his tea. "The guild approved our promotion?"
"Yes! We're Rank B now!" She threw herself into the chair across from him, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning. "No more boring goblin quests. We're moving up in the world!"
"Nice." He raised his cup in a lazy toast. "So what's the problem ?""
"Why do you always assume there's a problem ?"
"Because you have a terrible poker face, and you're avoiding eye contact." Xian took a sip of tea, watching her over the rim. "Just tell me."
Mira sighed, slumping back. "Okay, fine. Our first B-rank mission is an escort job. It's to escort a Merchant caravan to the capital. The pay is Good , an it's and important cargo."
"And?"
"And... the route goes through the Crimson Gorges."
Xian set his cup down carefully. "The ones with the bandit problem."
"They're technically called the Ash Clan, and technically they mostly target military convoys—"
"Mira."
"Okay, okay! There have been a few civilian raids this month. But!" She held up a finger before he could protest. "The pay is quadruple the normal rate because of the danger. And the cargo contain medicine for the plague outbreak in the capital's lower districts."
Of course it was.
Xian look at his companion's face. Mira had saved his life during his first week in this world when he'd been stumbling around like a wanderer . She was brave, skilled, and had a heart that was probably too good for the adventuring business. Someone at the guild had known exactly how to hook her.
"Medicine for sick kids. Hah the Classic."
"Children are dying, Xian." Her voice went soft, earnest. "If we don't take this job, who will?"
That was valid question. And after all this time spent together, Xian knew it was pointless to reason with her when she had already decided to embark on something.
"Fine," he said. "We'll do it."
Mira's face lit up. "Really? You're not going to lecture me about acceptable risk levels and probability matrices?"
"I was thinking about it, but you'd just ignore me anyway."
"Probably!" She laughed, already heading for the door. "Let us meet at the guild at dawn. Oh, and wear your good armor "
The door closed behind her, leaving Xian alone with his thoughts and cooling tea.
Medicine for plague victims. High danger route. Quadruple pay.
His [Probability Simulation] ran automatically, calculating risk factors. The numbers weren't great, but they weren't terrible either. Assuming competent backup and no major complications, they had decent odds.
Then again, when had anything in this world gone exactly according to plan?
---
Dawn came fast.
The caravan was already assembled by the time Xian arrived—three heavy wagons loaded with crates bearing the healer's guild symbol. Besides him and Mira, two other adventuring pairs had signed on. A warrior named Garth and his partner Selene, some kind of barrier mage. Plus a pair of twin rangers who introduced themselves as Lorn and Lyra with matching smirks.
[Total Analysis] gave him the rundown without even trying:
Garth: Level 27, tank build, high endurance. Selene: Level 25, defensive specialist. Lorn and Lyra: Level 24 each, good coordination.
Combined with him and Mira? They had a solid team. Maybe a 65% chance of making it through without major casualties.
Not bad. Not great, but not bad.
"Listen up!" The caravan master—an old merchant named Torvald with more scars than hair—gathered everyone around. "The Crimson Gorges are twelve miles of narrow canyon. It's a perfect place for an ambush. When we get hit, the cargo is priority one. Those crates must reach the capital no matter what."
Xian noticed how Torvald said "when" we get hit, not "if." The old man knew the score.
They set out as the sun cleared the horizon.
The first few hours were calm, almost boring. The walls of the gorge rose on either side like ancient giants, all rust-red stone and eroded crevices. Beautiful, in an almost unsettling way.
Xian kept [Probability Simulation]*running every half hour, updating his threat assessment based on terrain changes and visibility. The numbers kept getting worse.
"You've got your thinking face on," Mira said, riding beside him. "What's wrong?"
"It's too quiet."
"Isn't that good?"
"Not really." Xian scanned the cliff tops. "The Ash Clan are raiders. They hit hard and fast, then disappear. This kind of silence means either they're not here—which I doubt given our cargo value—or they're planning something really big."
Mira's hand drifted to her sword. "You think—"
Part of the gorge walls exploded..
Boulders crashed down from above. The lead wagon disintegrated under tons of falling rock. Arrows filled the air like deadly rain, and fire erupted across the narrow pass.
Xian's mind went cold and clear.
[Total Analysis]processed everything in an instant:
Enemy count: 37. Fifteen archers, twelve melee fighters, seven mages, three unknowns. Threat level: Severe. Survival probability: 41%. Cargo survival: 18%.
"Barrier!" Selene's shout cut through the chaos. A translucent dome materialized over the remaining wagons, arrows shattering against it like glass.
Garth roared something incomprehensible and charged the attackers coming down the cliff face. The twins moved in perfect sync, their arrows finding throats with surgical precision. Mira was already engaging two bandits trying to flank Selene's position.
Xian stayed put, analyzing.
The Ash Clan moved like professionals. They knew the exact route and the timing Of the cargo. Someone had fed them intel.
But that wasn't the real problem.
Current trajectory: Total wipeout in eight minutes, thirty-four seconds.
His [Flow Manipulation] skill painted the battlefield in invisible currents of momentum and mana. He could see three obvious options:
Option A: Dig in and defend. Hold position until reinforcements arrive.
Success rate: 12%. Expected casualties: Everyone, probably.
Option B: Tactical retreat. Abandon one wagon as bait, escape with the other.
Success rate: 67%. Casualties: Maybe one or two. Cargo saved: 50%.
Option C: Go on offense. Kill their commander, break their morale.
Success rate: 34%. Casualties: Two to four. Cargo saved: 80%.
None of them were great.
But there was a fourth option. One that made his gut twist even as his mind calculated the angles.
He could see it clearly through [Probability Simulation]: The Ash Clan wanted prisoners for ransom, not corpses. Their mages were positioned defensively. This was a capture operation, not a massacre.
If Xian manipulated Selene's barrier frequency just right—altered the resonance pattern while pretending to help reinforce it—he could trigger a controlled collapse of the unstable cliff face behind them. The falling rock would bury at least fourteen of the attackers. The chaos would give them a clean escape window with all the cargo intact.
Success rate: 89%. Their casualties: Zero. Enemy casualties: Fourteen dead.
Fourteen lives. Bandits, sure. Criminals who'd chosen this path.But they are still human beings; they can breathe, think, they may have a family, a dream, or regrets.
The math was simple: Fourteen bandits versus hundreds of plague-stricken children who'd die without this medicine. From a pure numbers standpoint, it wasn't even close. Maximum good for maximum people.
But that was the problem with being reincarnated with perfect analytical abilities. Every choice became a calculation. Every life became a data point.
Was that right? Was that wrong?
In his old life, back on Earth, Xian had been a financial analyst. He'd moved numbers around, optimized portfolios, made decisions that affected thousands of people he'd never meet. It had been easy because it was all abstract. Just data on a screen.
This was different. This was real. The blood would be real. The deaths would be permanent.
But so would the deaths of those kids if the medicine didn't arrive.
When you have the power to calculate every outcome,he thought, do you have the responsibility to choose the best one? Or does making that choice change you into something you don't want to be?
The battle raged around him. Garth took a sword to the shoulder, blood spraying. One of the twins went down, leg crushed under a fallen boulder. Selene's barrier was cracking, spiderweb fractures spreading across its surface.
Mira was holding off three attackers at once, and she was getting tired.
Decide. Now.
His hand moved before he fully realized what he was doing.
---
The cliff came down like the end of the world.
Thunder and dust and screaming rock as half the canyon wall collapsed in a roaring avalanche. The Ash Clan's left flank vanished under tons of stone.
"What the—" Garth stared, eyes wide. "Selene, did you—"
"I don't know!" The mage looked shocked, staring at her hands. "The barrier resonated with something in the rock. I didn't mean to—"
"Doesn't matter! Move!" Mira grabbed the injured twin, hauling him toward the wagons. "This is our shot!"
The surviving bandits scattered, their formation broken, their morale shattered. Within minutes, the caravan was racing down the canyon, leaving the carnage behind.
They reached the capital four hours later.
The medicine was delivered to the healer's guild. Within weeks, the plague's death rate would drop by seventy-three percent. Two hundred and sixteen children who would've died got to live instead. Families stayed together. Futures remained possible.
The guild called them heroes. Torvald paid triple what he'd promised. Mira cried happy tears when they visited the healer's district and saw kids actually playing again, laughing, alive.
Xian smiled and said the right things and accepted the praise.
That night, back at the inn, he stood at the same window with the same view. Red-tiled roofs. Peaceful sunset. Everything exactly the same as three months ago.
But not really.
Somewhere out in those gorges, fourteen people were buried under rock. He'd never know their names. Never know their stories. Whether they had families. Whether they'd been forced into banditry by desperation or chosen it freely. Whether any of them had been planning to quit and try a different life.
He'd calculated the optimal path. Executed it perfectly. Saved the maximum number of lives.
And he'd done it by becoming exactly the kind of person who could make that call without flinching.
The math checked out. The outcome was objectively good. Two hundred sixteen lives saved versus fourteen lives taken. Any rational analysis said he'd made the right choice.
So why did it feel like he'd lost something he couldn't get back?
Maybe this was just how the world worked at scale. Governments, armies, leaders—they all made these calculations constantly. They just had the luxury of distance. Of bureaucracy. Of never having to personally trigger the landslide.
He'd pulled that trigger. Not with a weapon, but with knowledge. With cold, perfect calculation.
The kids lived. The bandits died. Net positive: significant.
But the part of him that had hesitated—that had felt genuine horror even while making the choice—that part felt quieter now. Distant. Like something that belonged to the person he used to be.
"Xian?" Mira's voice came from the hallway. "You okay? You've been quiet since we got back."
"Yeah," he called back. "I'm just tired."
"Get some rest. Tomorrow we've got another mission. Some kind of hostage rescue. Should be easier than today!"
"Sure. Easier."
He wondered if she'd noticed. If any of them had seen that split second when he'd whispered the specific command to shift Selene's barrier frequency. If they'd understood what really happened.
Probably not. They saw luck. Fortune. Maybe divine intervention.
Only he knew the truth.
And maybe that was the real cost—not the weight of the decision itself, but the loneliness of being the only one who understood what had truly occurred. The isolation of seeing the world as calculated probabilities instead of random chaos.
Two hundred sixteen children lived, he reminded himself. Focus on that.
But when sleep finally came, his dreams weren't filled with grateful families or recovered patients.
They were filled with the sound of hands scraping against immovable stone. The muffled screams of people buried alive. The slow, terrible silence as oxygen ran out.
Statistics.
Variables.
Lives.
In this new world of magic and systems, Xian Yao had learned how to fight. How to strategize. How to optimize outcomes.
But the most important lesson—the one that would shape everything that followed—was this:
Perfect calculation came with a price no status screen could measure. A price paid not in experience points or gold, but in the slow erosion of the person he might have been.
And there was no skill that could restore what was lost.
---
[END
---
Status Update:
Xian Yao - Level 23
Class: Sage Strategist
Mission Success Rate: 100%
Lives Saved: 216
Lives Taken: 14
Humanity Remaining: [Cannot Calculate]