As an Ordinary person (Why do I keep attracting Psychopaths?)

For the first half of the class, Yuna learned two very important things.

One: Runes were not as easy as she thought.

Two: She was really, really bad at them.

Professor Veyne's lesson had started with such promise. A subject that didn't require magic? That relied on knowledge rather than talent? Surely, this was where all her transmigrator benefits would kick in! Maybe muscle memory from her past life would awaken! Maybe she'd instinctively etch a master rune and impress the entire class!

Instead, she found herself gripping an engraving tool like it was some cursed artifact meant to humiliate her in every possible way.

She wasn't alone in her suffering. All around her, students struggled—some more spectacularly than others. The boy in front of her had somehow managed to set his parchment on fire. Another had carved something so distorted that the rune let out a pitiful wheeze before dissolving into nothingness.

Celeste, ever the enthusiastic desk neighbor, was having a much better time. "I think I've got it!" she chirped, holding up her parchment where a small, stable glow pulsed from the rune. "Look, Yuna! Not to brag, but I think I might be a natural."

Yuna shot her a flat look before glancing at her own work—her latest attempt was slightly less disastrous than the first, but still resembled a wilted flower more than a functional rune.

Yuna deeply suspect that her desk neighbor is also one of the side characters mentioned in the novel . Mentioned briefly or not, she must be one, definitely! Where else is her talent on runes come from?

"Congratulations," Yuna deadpanned. "Meanwhile, I think my rune just had a midlife crisis."

Celeste leaned over to inspect it, then let out a dramatic gasp. "Oh no. It does look like it's questioning its life choices."

Yuna groaned and rested her forehead against the desk. "This is not how I imagined things would go."

"Really?" Celeste hummed. "And how exactly did you imagine this would go?"

Yuna lifted her head just enough to mutter, "I don't know… I thought maybe I'd get some cool, hidden knowledge? Maybe something would click and I'd instinctively just know the runes? Like—boom, ultimate rune master. Effortless."

Celeste snorted. "Oh, sweet summer child."

Yuna sighed and picked up her engraving tool again, resigning herself to her fate.

...

After an hour of runic struggles and minor existential crises, Professor Veyne finally set his chalk down.

"That concludes today's lesson," he said, his voice as distant and cold as ever. "Whether you learned anything of value in this hour depends on you."

Yuna, whose greatest achievement had been drawing something that almost functioned, resisted the urge to sigh.

"Before dismissal," Veyne continued, "You have half an hour to ask questions. They may be related to the subject… or not." He crossed his arms. "I will answer if I can."

That was all the invitation the students needed. Immediately, hands shot up.

"What's the strongest rune that exists?" someone asked eagerly.

"There is no single answer to that," Veyne replied. "The strength of a rune depends on its application, the materials used, and the one who inscribes it. Power is not in the symbol alone, but in how it is wielded."

A girl at the front raised her hand. "Professor, what's the significance of the mask?"

A heavy silence fell over the room. Yuna slightly admired the girl; she sure is persistent to uncover things related to the teacher mask. Well, Yuna is curious as well. NGL. But as matter stand, she's a wimp towards this kind of moody and seemingly strict teacher.

Veyne's fingers drummed once against the desk. Then, with that same detached tone, he simply said, "I do not wish to answer."

The girl quickly looked away, and another student hurriedly filled the silence. "What's the best way to memorize runes?"

"Repetition. Application. Study," Veyne answered. "There are no shortcuts."

Ahh…. Her exact bane. She's lazy to repeat, lazy to study and barely have enough strength to apply things she learn. So, is she never going to learn runes and symbols? Its' so pitiful…Where is she going to get the motivation to learn when she is an expert at de-motivating herself?

Yuna listened carefully, waiting for the right moment. She had a question of her own—a very important one—but it wasn't something she could ask directly. At least she didn't want to. Self conservation is especially important in a fantasy world.

She hates those protagonist who spills every change or uniqueness of their body.

Yuna cleared her throat and raised her hand. "Professor," she started casually, "Is it true that some bodies undergo such drastic changes through cultivation that normal food becomes… ineffective? I read something like that in a book and it piqued my curiosity ever since"

Veyne's masked gaze shifted toward her. "There are cases," he acknowledged. "Those who cultivate extreme physiques or elemental bodies often find their digestive systems rejecting common sustenance. Though…achieving such physiques takes hundreds of year effort and that too might not be even successful"

Bingo.

Yuna kept her expression neutral, feigning simple curiosity. "And… in such cases, what can they eat?"

Veyne was silent for a moment, as if weighing the question.

"Mutated beasts," he finally said. "Creatures that have developed abilities of their own. Their flesh retains enough concentrated energy to be consumed by those with specialized constitutions. Anything lesser is deemed impure."

Yuna nodded thoughtfully, filing away that vital information. So that's why normal food make me vomit dirty blood.

A few other students whispered among themselves, intrigued by the idea of someone needing such a diet. Yuna, meanwhile, was already mentally planning how to covertly source some mutated beast meat.

"The library," Veyne continued, "contains texts on various special constitutions and their requirements. If you seek answers beyond what I have given, search for them there."

Of course. A classic teacher response.

Still, Yuna wasn't complaining. She had gotten exactly what she needed.

Celeste nudged her. "Interesting question," she mused. "Do you have some kind of super special body that makes normal food disgusting?"

Yuna gave her a perfectly blank stare. "Nope."

Celeste narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "You sure?"

"Very."

"You wouldn't lie to me, right, desk neighbor?"

"Celeste," Yuna said solemnly, "if I had some kind of mythical, god-tier body that made me incapable of eating normal food, do you really think I'd still be here suffering through rune class like everyone else?"

"…Fair point."

Celeste leaned back in her chair, seemingly satisfied. Yuna, meanwhile, allowed herself the smallest, most triumphant smirk.

Today had been rough, but at least she got some answers.

Even if she was still terrible at runes. Sniffle…