Extra To Protagonist-Chapter 165: Event

Merlin shoved his hands in his pockets and trailed behind.

They didn’t talk on the stairs. Or on the sidewalk. Or when they turned down a narrower street that smelled like exhaust and fried bread from a stall two blocks away.

The city wasn’t the capital, it wasn’t even close, but it felt like it was trying. Neon lights hummed overhead. Somewhere, a kid laughed too hard at something stupid.

Normal noise.

It felt distant.

They stopped at a bench. The man sat. Merlin stood.

"Sit," the man said.

So he sat.

Silence again.

The man leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He looked young. Too young. No lines on his face. No tiredness under his eyes.

Just stillness. Clean white coat, dark gloves. The sort of man who might’ve been handsome if he didn’t feel like a blade dressed as a person.

Merlin cleared his throat. "You gonna start with a name, or are we sticking to silent stares and ghostly rescues?"

The man didn’t answer.

[System Notification: Watcher Present.]

[Identity Match — Obscured.]

’Of course it is.’

The man finally spoke. "You remember."

Merlin didn’t pretend. "Parts."

"That’s enough."

He turned his head slightly, watching a car pass by with headlights too bright.

"You woke up," he said. "I wasn’t sure you would."

"That makes two of us."

Another pause.

Then: "You’re still stabilizing."

"Is that your professional opinion?"

"No," he said. "It’s his."

Merlin didn’t need to ask who "his" was.

He shifted on the bench, eyes scanning the sidewalk. Just people. Normal people. Walking dogs, carrying groceries, yelling into phones.

And here he was. Sitting next to the human embodiment of silence and vague dread.

The man spoke again, softer this time. "You were gone longer than you think."

Merlin frowned. "How long?"

"Doesn’t matter. Time bends differently under judgment."

[System Notice: 13 Days 19 Hours — Earth Standard.]

’Two weeks. And they waited.’

"Why me?" Merlin asked.

The man’s head tilted. "You already know the answer."

’Because of Rathan.’

Merlin leaned back. He watched his breath fog briefly in the chill.

"You reset my system once," he said. "In a bathroom."

"Yes."

"You watched me."

"I still do."

"You knew I was never supposed to be here."

The man didn’t nod. But he didn’t deny it.

Merlin stared at him. ’You know. You knew from the start.’

"You’re not going to tell me how I got here, are you?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because knowing wouldn’t help."

That pissed him off more than he expected.

He exhaled sharply through his nose. "You like being cryptic, or is that just a bonus feature?"

The man didn’t blink. "You’re alive. That’s what matters."

[System Notification: Watcher Affiliation — Benevolent Neutral.]

Merlin muttered, "You sure don’t act like it."

The man stood again. Motion fluid. Like nothing hurt anymore.

"Walk," he said.

So they walked.

Block after block. Past the noodle shop. The bookstore that smelled like paper even from outside. A fence with ivy curling through chain-links. Merlin’s boots scraped softly against the pavement.

"I don’t like being followed," Merlin said.

"I’m not following. I’m watching."

"There’s a difference?"

"Yes."

"Right," Merlin muttered. "Totally healthy dynamic."

They walked in silence for a bit longer.

Then Merlin asked, quieter this time, "Is it done?"

The man glanced sideways. "The exile?"

Merlin nodded.

"No. You’ve only inherited the pieces."

[System Notification: Memory Strain Threshold — 41%]

’Feels like it.’

The man slowed. His gaze turned forward again.

"You’re not the same anymore. The body remembers. Even when the mind doesn’t want to."

"I know."

The man looked at him. Just once.

"You will carry it."

Merlin didn’t flinch. "I already am."

"You’ll carry more before the end."

A car passed. Music thumping. The smell of burnt rubber and cheap smoke lingered behind.

Merlin shook his head. "You sound like a fortune cookie."

That almost got a smile. Almost.

The man looked forward again.

"Don’t let them break you," he said.

Merlin’s hand tightened in his pocket.

"I’ll try not to."

—

They’d been walking for twenty minutes, maybe more. Merlin didn’t know where they were going, and at this point, it felt like neither did the white-haired man. He just walked like the city owed him quiet.

They ended up at a rail crossing, the kind you only notice when it’s active. Right now, it wasn’t. Just rusted metal, cracked pavement, and a long stretch of empty track.

The man stopped.

Merlin did too, shoving his hands into his coat pockets.

"You’ve read ahead," the man said.

It wasn’t a question.

Merlin’s spine stiffened. "...Yeah."

"You know what’s coming."

He hesitated. "Some of it."

The man nodded once, as if he was confirming something he already knew. Then his voice dropped lower, just enough to keep it between them.

"The next event is in five days."

Merlin blinked.

His mouth opened, but no words came out at first. It took a second to process that. Then: "How do you—"

"I read it too."

Merlin’s stomach turned.

’That’s not possible.’

[System Warning: Proximity Sync Anomaly – Match Detected.]

[User: Unknown // Permission: Equal Tier.]

His head snapped to the man. "What the hell are you?"

But the guy didn’t answer that. Just kept staring out across the tracks like he wasn’t the one dropping existential bombshells.

Merlin took a step closer. "You’re not from this world."

Still no answer.

His hands were sweating now, even in the cold. He wiped one on his coat.

"You knew when I arrived. You knew before I even figured it out."

The man nodded.

"Why haven’t you said anything?"

"You weren’t ready."

"And now I am?"

"Closer than before."

’This is insane.’ Merlin tried to slow his breathing, but his thoughts kept accelerating. ’He’s just like me. He has to be. But how long has he been here? How much does he know?’

He forced his voice to stay steady. "What’s the next event then?"

The man finally turned to look at him.

"A raid," he said. "Not official. A dungeon outside the city. They’ll say it’s unstable. They’ll send your class in."

Merlin’s mouth went dry. That wasn’t supposed to happen for another month—maybe two. "That’s too early."

"Not for this world."

Merlin swore under his breath.

He’d read about the dungeon. It wasn’t just any raid, it was the first time the plot killed someone actually important. In the novel, it had been the first "lesson" moment. The reminder that this world didn’t forgive.

"Who dies?" Merlin asked, voice low.

The man didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.

Merlin already knew.

[System Notice: Upcoming Questline Branch – Multiple Outcomes Available.]

[Current Path: Diverged.]

’Diverged...?’

He looked down at his feet. The gravel crunched faintly under his boots. He clenched his jaw.

"I have five days."

The man nodded.

"Can I stop it?"

"Yes."

"Will I?"

"That’s your problem to solve."

Merlin let out a short, bitter laugh. "Right. Thanks for the help."

The man looked at him. For the first time, there was a flicker of something different in his eyes. Something close to... pity? Respect? Maybe both. It passed too fast to pin down.

"You’ve already changed things," he said.

Merlin looked at him, waiting.

The man’s voice dropped even lower. "Just be careful who notices."

Then he turned and walked.

No goodbye.

No final cryptic message.

Just the same silent footsteps fading back into the street noise like he was never there.

Merlin stood there for a while.

The sky was starting to darken. Streetlights flickered on.

He pulled up his system menu.

[User: Merlin Everhart]

[Status: Recovered]

[Memory Inheritance: 7% Synced – RATHAN]

[Upcoming Major Event: "Dungeon Overflow – F-Class Clean-Up"]

[Estimated Time: 4 Days, 19 Hours]

He stared at the timer.

’That’s too soon. Way too soon.’

His hand curled into a fist.

But no one else could see the screen.

No one else could feel the weight of this damn plot pressing down on their skull like a countdown clock.

Just him.

And someone else walking around pretending to be normal.

’You better be on my side,’ Merlin thought, staring after the white-haired figure disappearing into the city.

Because if he wasn’t... then Merlin was going to have more than one plotline to survive.

—

The train ride back was quiet.

Merlin didn’t talk. The white-haired guy didn’t talk. The car they picked was mostly empty, just two kids asleep across from them and a guy in a hat muttering into his phone in the corner. Every time the train shifted, the windows clicked softly in their frames.

Merlin leaned against the glass and stared at the reflection.

He didn’t look different. Same shaggy dark hair. Same half-healed bruises along his jaw. Same exhaustion circling his eyes like it was drawn in marker. But his chest felt like someone had pressed a second spine into it. Something heavy. Old.

[User: Merlin Everhart]

[Talent Stars: 12★ (Max Cap - Current Progress: 6.4%)]

[System Alert: Memory Sync 7% – Stable]

[Inherited Trait: Rathan’s Insight (Dormant)]

He closed the menu before his eyes could linger too long on the details. The numbers were comforting. Cold, clean, precise. But that didn’t make them safe.

They stepped off the train a few stops before the academy. The streets were more crowded than earlier, but no one looked at them. Just another student and his weird guardian wandering around post-recovery.