The Mob Character Who Woke Up!-Chapter 50: Mr. Finch from Axiomancy!

The Vice Principal frowned deeply. The S-Rank Professors looked visibly annoyed at the interruption. Two thousand students turned their heads simultaneously toward the source of the disruption.

Sprinting toward the podium at full speed, tripping over his own oversized robes, panting like a dog that had just run a full marathon, was a scrawny young man with thick glasses that were sliding down his nose.

He scrambled up the stairs frantically, nearly face-planting directly in front of the assembled legends.

Kaizen straightened up immediately. His eyes lit up with instant recognition.

’It’s him!’

Mr. Finch. The nervous assistant. The same guy Helga had violently smacked with a cooking ladle just two days ago in the cafeteria.

"Who is that pathetic guy?" a student whispered loudly. "Is he supposed to be a professor?"

"He looks like he’s about to pass out and die."

Mr. Finch stood before the microphone. He tapped it nervously. Screech.

"I... I..." Finch stammered helplessly. He looked out at the massive sea of judging faces staring back at him.

He was young, barely older than the senior students in the crowd. While other people his age were out partying or raiding dungeons for glory and treasure, he was here, sweating profusely through his cheap suit, about to address a crowd of judgmental teenagers who would decide his worth in seconds.

He looked absolutely terrified.

The Vice Principal sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. He knew about this young man personally, and he knew Finch desperately needed some serious help in the public speaking department. It definitely didn’t help that his supervising professor was basically a deadbeat drunkard who refused to show up to official events.

"SILENCE!" the VP bellowed with authority. The scattered chatter died instantly. "Let the man speak without interruption."

The professors standing behind Finch nodded encouragingly, except for Seris, who had this maniacal smile spreading across her face like she was about to watch something incredibly entertaining unfold.

Finch took a deep, shaky breath. He adjusted his thick glasses with trembling fingers. He steeled his failing nerves.

"I..." Finch’s voice cracked painfully, then somehow stabilized. "I am here to represent the Department of Axiomancy! On behalf of the esteemed Professor Ezekiel Xavier Mortimer!"

Silence.

Absolute, dead silence that felt like the world had stopped breathing.

Then the reaction came.

"BOOOOOOO!"

"Trash!"

"Get off the stage, loser!"

"Axiomancy? Isn’t that literally the most useless elemental magic in the whole world?!"

"Who wants to learn from the Drunkard Professor?!"

The crowd exploded into outright rejection. It wasn’t just disinterest or polite declining. It was genuine hostility.

In this world’s combat-focused culture, Elemental Magic was King. You throw fire at problems, things die screaming. Simple formula. Effective results.

Axiomancy? It was the academic study of Force Vectors and Mathematical Manipulation. It was subtle and required thinking. It was complicated and demanded precision. And in the current combat meta dominated by flashy elemental magic, it was considered utterly useless for practical fighting.

"Wait, please!" Finch cried desperately, waving his hands frantically. "Professor Mortimer is a certified genius in his field! Axiomancy is the fundamental foundation of reality itself! If you master the complex equations, you can literally rewrite the rules of physics and—"

"Boring!" Lance Wind shouted mockingly from his position in the front row. "Can it blow up a dragon in one hit? No? Then it’s complete trash!"

"Yeah! Trash magic!" the Goon Squad echoed obediently.

"Why would anyone waste time on math when you can just throw boulders at your problem!" another student added.

Finch visibly shrank back, his face burning bright red with humiliation. He looked desperately at the students, begging silently with his eyes for just one person to show even a shred of interest.

But nobody cared. They were already turning away dismissively, walking confidently toward the Elemental department booths. They wanted Fire that could burn armies. They wanted Lightning that could split mountains. They didn’t want to do advanced calculus in the middle of a dungeon while monsters were trying to eat them.

Finch slumped his shoulders in defeat. He looked completely crushed. He grabbed his clipboard with shaking hands and just stood there awkwardly as the other professors began walking toward their respective elemental towers, leaving him alone on stage.

"That’s so sad," Leo said with genuine sympathy. "Nobody wants to learn from him."

"The human looks like he’s about to cry," Gad observed. "Pathetic display for a teaching position."

Kaizen watched Finch standing there alone.

He looked at the public rejection. He looked at the so-called Trash magic that nobody wanted to touch.

Then, he remembered what he actually needed right now with his weird Domestic Abuse Pan build, and it definitely wasn’t fire or water or lightning or wind or earth manipulation.

It was the specific ability to nudge something just a little bit to the side with precision, like redirecting a sword’s trajectory toward the center of his Rusty Pan of Doom. That was exactly what he desperately needed right now for his survival strategy.

Kaizen smiled.

’Trash magic, huh?’

He adjusted his backpack straps.

’Sounds exactly like my kind of party.’

Kaizen turned to Leo with what he hoped was a casual expression.

"So, what are you going to pick?"

Leo blinked those bright, innocent eyes. He tapped his chin thoughtfully, looking up at the massive colorful banners of Fire with its dancing flames, Ice with its crystalline beauty, Lightning with its crackling energy, Wind with its flowing ribbons, and Earth with its solid dependability.

"Hmm, I haven’t decided yet!" Leo said cheerfully. "Fire looks really cool and powerful. But Lightning is super fast and exciting. And Wind, well, Wind just feels so free and liberating! Earth and Water are both great for offense and defense too!"

Kaizen stared at him. A cold drop of sweat rolled down his spine slowly.

This is it.

The realization hit him like a fully loaded truck going downhill.

In Demon Hunter Chronicles, this exact moment in the timeline was the Character Creation Screen. The prologue ends, the cutscenes stop playing, and a UI pops up on the screen asking the player directly: [Choose Element for Leo Crimson.]

But there was no player sitting at a computer. There was no mouse cursor hovering over the Fire icon waiting to click.

’If nobody chooses for him, what actually happens?’

Does Leo have some kind of default setting programmed into his character? Is he coded to automatically pick Fire because his last name is literally Crimson? Or will he somehow glitch out completely and pick nothing at all?

Kaizen realized with dawning horror that his supposed All-Knowing Guide status had just expired without warning.

The Prologue was officially over. From this very second onward, he was flying completely blind.

He only knew the world settings that were established in the game. The dungeon locations scattered across the map. The item drops and their spawn rates. The background lore and historical events.

But the actual story? The developing plot? 𝑓𝓇𝘦ℯ𝘸𝘦𝑏𝓃𝑜𝘷ℯ𝑙.𝑐𝑜𝓂

That was completely off the rails now.

He was now on his own!