CHAPTER 458: COLLISION

Ollie ran.

He didn’t walk. He didn’t trot.

He sprinted down the corridor like his hair was on fire and his survival depended on it.

Behind him, Lyka chased relentlessly, still holding that box, while screaming, "Why are you running?! Is it because you didn’t like the gifts?! Are they not enough?!"

"It’s not that!" Ollie wailed, nearly tripping over his own feet. "They’re enough—I’m just not!"

"Then why—?!"

"BECAUSE I DON’T DESERVE THEM!"

He said it like a confession, like someone who had committed a crime.

Lyka picked up the pace.

Ollie, in full panic mode, had completely shut his eyes as if not seeing the problem would make it disappear. Which was why he didn’t notice that he was headed straight toward the worst kind of obstacle: a man-shaped one.

BAM!

Ollie slammed right into someone tall, warm, and unreasonably solid.

Strong arms caught him before he could bounce off and roll down the stairs.

"Whoa," came a familiar voice. "Ollie?"

Ollie blinked up, eyes wide in disbelief.

"K-Kyle?!" he squeaked, finding himself pressed against the guy’s chest like a poorly thrown stuffed animal.

They were right at the top of the stairwell, where the corridor ended—and now it was a three-person showdown.

Kyle, cool and unreadable, glanced over Ollie’s head to where Lyka finally caught up, panting, still clutching her ominous gift box like it contained some sort of cursed loot.

"You didn’t show up for breakfast," Kyle said calmly, gaze unreadable. "I figured something was up."

Ollie, still in Kyle’s arms, wanted to disintegrate.

He looked from Lyka to Kyle, back to Lyka—who was still approaching.

He immediately tried to scoot closer to the giant, as if he could merge into his torso and vanish from this timeline.

The woman’s expression changed into something eerily gentle. "Why do you keep refusing me?" she asked softly. "Why won’t you accept my goodwill, Ollie? Is it because you think it’s not enough? Or is it something else?"

The distressed mechanic, sweating buckets and red all the way to his ears, finally broke under the pressure.

"I’M SORRY!" he screamed, practically combusting in Kyle’s arms. "I CAN’T ACCEPT IT! MY HEART IS ALREADY BUSY!!"

The hallway fell into stunned silence.

Even the sound of passing footsteps paused.

Kyle raised his brows slightly, but said nothing.

Lyka stopped in place, blinking in stunned confusion.

Ollie, trembling and red-faced, realized what he had just shouted in public, in front of Kyle, in front of everyone—

"I—I’M GOING TO THE BATHROOM!" he announced with a shriek and bolted again, this time extremely grateful for the sudden safe space.

Inside the restroom, he gripped the sink and muttered to himself:

"It’s extremely busy. Fully-booked!"

He was already too occupied, and it was impossible to sneak in other thoughts. He wasn’t capable of that. Not when he hasn’t even figured out how to deal with the current tenant!

Outside the bathroom door, silence reigned supreme.

People glanced at one another, unsure whether to laugh, clap, or pretend the last thirty seconds never happened.

Lyka, who had planned to appear sweet and wronged, to turn the situation in her favor while making Ollie seem unstable, unhinged, and all too cuckoo, suddenly felt things slipping through her fingers. The scenario and momentum she was hoping to create...wasn’t exactly happening.

Because Kyle, still the human wall Ollie had launched himself into, just stood there.

Expression unreadable.

Eyebrow raised.

And still.

Too still. Just staring right at her as if waiting for an explanation.

It was a stare that made Lyka shift uncomfortably on her feet, her dramatic performance wilting like a week-old flower. But because he was still there, she was certain she was being given another chance.

That must be it. And she would be stupid not to grab it, right?

Meanwhile, from below the staircase, the sound of footsteps echoed upward—delicate, measured, and increasingly hesitant.

Princess Kira had been happily making her way to their classroom above the Mecha Manufacturing floor with Ada and a few classmates, laughing and chatting about things that were definitely not love triangles or emotionally explosive heart drama, when they heard the scream.

They froze in place.

"Did that sound like—" one girl whispered.

"It was Ollie," Ada confirmed, blinking rapidly.

Kira squinted up the stairs, her senses sharpening. "Wait. Wait. Don’t go up yet."

"Huh? Why?"

"Because," the princess said flatly, "Funky Smell is up there."

"Funky—"

"Shh."

Kira raised a hand like a traffic officer halting a caravan of gossip-hungry onlookers. She and the other girls leaned forward in unison, watching with the precision of trained hawks.

From their vantage point, they could just make out the figures at the landing.

Kyle.

That girl from the forums.

And a box.

The box.

Ada leaned in and whispered, "Do we intervene?"

"Not yet," Kira murmured. "Let’s hear what the demoness says next."

And so, as the world held its breath, Lyka finally spoke.

The normally noble woman adjusted her expression, carefully composing herself as she stepped forward with a sugary smile and tucked the gift box back into her space button like a failed mission file.

"What exactly is the relationship between you two?" she asked, voice deceptively calm.

Kyle blinked at her, slow and mildly disinterested. "You two?"

"Yes," she pressed, arms crossing now as she straightened her back. "You and Oliver Mylor."

Kyle shrugged, casual as ever. "He says we’re friends."

Lyka’s lips twitched. "But friends don’t act like that." She sniffed, angling her chin upward. "It’s improper. What would others say?"

At that, Kyle tilted his head, looking genuinely confused, like she’d questioned whether gravity was optional.

"Oh? Is that so?" he asked, voice flat.

She thought she had him. Her spine straightened, her smug meter rising rapidly as she knew it was right to remind him about public perception. He was, after all, Kyle Nox.

But then Kyle continued, "You misunderstand. He’s the one who says we’re just friends."

Pause.

Then, with perfect calm and terrifying seriousness, Kyle added, looking at her pointedly, "But me?"

"I worship him. And the ground he walks on."

It was but a beat, then he turned on his heel, completely unfazed, and walked straight toward the direction Ollie had fled to—like the devoted temple priest chasing after his flustered little god.

The sound of his footsteps filled the corridor, as if making up for the sudden silence and stillness.

Lyka and practically everyone else stood there, frozen.

Utterly dumbfounded.

Her mouth was slightly open as her brain buffered.

But more than anything, she was emotionally glitching.

And from below the staircase, a soft collective gasp broke out.

Princess Kira slowly turned to her friends, clutched her chest, and whispered reverently, "Gosh. I love being in school." She had an unfortunate circumstance coming up, but with this? Even if she had to fuse with the ground, she wasn’t leaving school.

Because drama like this? This was peak education.