Bodyguard II

After signing a few papers, the deal was sealed. Will officially accepted the man as Kaiza's special bodyguard.

Kaiza stared at the man intently, unaware of how piercing his gaze had become. His thoughts swirled in confusion, trying to piece together why the man felt so familiar—like someone he'd known before. No matter how much he tried to unravel the feeling, his mind drew a blank, offering neither answers nor even a hint.

'But why is he here anyway?' Kaiza asked himself. That question wasn't as challenging as figuring out who the man really was. Obviously, he was here to protect him—but from what? These thoughts only led to more questions swirling in Kaiza's mind.

His eyes flicked toward the man, catching a glimpse of his own gaze reflected in the stranger's mask-covered face. Suddenly, the man began walking toward him.

Kaiza noticed the movement and quickly turned his gaze away, but he wasn't about to retreat just because the man was approaching.

"Why are you staring?" the man asked, stopping a few steps away.

Kaiza turned back to respond, but before he could speak, the man interrupted, brushing past his own question.

"I'm your bodyguard. Luson," he said. Then, without hesitation, he removed his face mask, finally revealing his face to Kaiza.

This was exactly what Kaiza had wanted—to see the man's face, hoping it would spark a hint of recognition. But, to his disappointment, the man was a complete stranger. Still, something about him felt oddly familiar, as though Kaiza had crossed paths with him before—more than once, but not frequently enough to be certain.

For now, Kaiza wasn't dwelling on that. His thoughts shifted as he took in the man's striking features. Why would someone this handsome choose to be a secret agent bodyguard? Kaiza wondered. With a face like that, he could've picked a less combative career—one that wouldn't risk his looks.

"Get done quickly. We don't have the whole day," the man's voice cut through Kaiza's thoughts, jolting him back to reality.

With one last glance at the man, Kaiza turned his attention away and focused on the system. Opening its interface, he immediately began to count.

Kaiza was nearly finished with this quest. Unlike previous ones, the system didn't pause its count when he completed the division of ten kilometers into four sections. He had already finished two halves of the division, but this time, it wasn't the system that needed to stop—it was him. Exhaustion weighed on him, so he decided to take a break and rehydrate.

As Kaiza ran around the tracks, he couldn't help but notice that his bodyguard wasn't watching him. Instead, the man's focus was fixed elsewhere, his gaze locked on the top floor of the building above them.

No, Kaiza had observed incorrectly. The man's gaze wasn't fixed—it shifted from one thing to another every few seconds, as though he was scanning the entire building. Then, the man put on a pair of glasses. Kaiza immediately knew they weren't ordinary glasses.

They reminded him of the ones his father used to wear—though not invisible, they were crafted from transparent materials. Small, visible buttons adorned certain parts, particularly along the arms, resembling intricate designs more than functional controls.

He must be of a high rank, Kaiza thought to himself.

After resting for a while, Kaiza resumed running, though at a slower pace than before. His curiosity lingered, wondering what would happen when he completed the quest. Would he be rewarded for finishing each task individually, or only after completing them all? Either way, his determination grew. He resolved to finish the remaining tasks once he returned to his ward—or, if time allowed, perhaps tackle a few more while still outside.

As Kaiza ran, his eyes stayed glued to the system's screen. He noticed how the count increased with every step he took, slowing down whenever he did. The system's sensitivity to his every movement was astounding.

After a few more minutes, Kaiza completed the running task. However, no reward was given. Frustrated but curious, he navigated back to the task page, revealing the remaining challenges. That's when he noticed something different on the screen.

Next to each of the three remaining tasks, a countdown timer appeared—something that hadn't been there before.

Kaiza didn't know exactly what the timers signified, though he had a few ideas. Wanting clarification, he clicked on one of the icons.

The system vibrated slightly, as if rejecting his attempt to access the item. A small note then appeared on the screen:

[On break. User can start task again in 1 minute.

The countdown steadily decreased as Kaiza stared at it. Since the break for the jumping jacks task was nearly over, he decided to complete another section before heading back inside.

Before he realized it, the break ended. Determined, he resumed the task. As he moved, he opened the system screen to monitor how the counts evolved with each action.

The moment Kaiza hit the target count, the system displayed a notification:

[Take a break]

[Twenty-five jumping jacks added]

Kaiza stopped in his tracks to read the message, but before he could process it fully, another notification overrode the screen:

[Push-ups break over]

[Start]

An option to begin immediately appeared beneath the message. Without hesitation, Kaiza clicked it, having skimmed through the previous notification. He wasn't overly curious about the overridden message, as he had already caught its main points.

Just like before, Kaiza monitored the system's counts while completing the push-ups. As he suspected, the count stopped exactly at twenty-five. The same message appeared:

[Take a break]

Kaiza frowned slightly, wondering why the system operated this way. Why couldn't I just do as much as I can at once? he thought. But without an answer—and knowing he wasn't the one who programmed it—he accepted the system's rules and continued.

Next, he moved on to squats. Once done, he watched the break timers for the remaining tasks. As soon as the countdown for jumping jacks ended, he jumped straight into them. He repeated this process for the remaining tasks, one after the other.

Now that Kaiza had completed three sections for each of the three tasks on the list, he decided to head over to Luson, his bodyguard, to inform him he was done. However, before Kaiza could reach him, Luson spoke first.

"It's time to head inside and prepare for your parents' funeral," Luson said. His tone was calm but firm. "You've already exceeded the time you were allowed to be outside."

Without another word, the two walked back to the ward, where Will was already waiting for them. The moment Will saw them enter, he quickly stood up and walked toward them.

"Kaiza, how was it? Were you able to clear your mind off everything?" Will asked, his voice filled with concern. He didn't know why he asked that—perhaps it was his way of checking in—but all he truly wanted to know was if Kaiza wasn't dwelling too much on the loss of his parents.

But as the words left his mouth, he noticed Kaiza's expression change in an instant. A veil of sadness clouded his face, a painful reminder of the harsh reality he was facing. Guilt weighed heavily on Will as he realized he had unintentionally brought up the very thing he wished to distract Kaiza from.

"I'm fine. Excuse me, I have to use the restroom," Kaiza said, his voice steady, though his expression betrayed his true feelings as he walked away.

Throughout the exchange, Luson remained silent and almost unnervingly still, minding his own business. However, that wasn't his purpose—his sole mission was to protect the boy.

Meanwhile, Kaiza wasn't nearly as strong as he had pretended to be.

Once he stepped into the restroom and ensured the door was securely shut, a surge of emotions overwhelmed him. He felt a chaotic mix of sadness, anxiety, and curiosity. His mind churned with thoughts about the situation he was trapped in. Why me? he wondered, but he kept it all inside, unwilling to share the burden with his uncle, knowing the kind of man he was.

Kaiza had learned at school to manage his emotions in silence, as there had never been anyone willing to listen. But now, alone in this space, he let the weight of it all crash over him—the pain, the sorrow, the unbearable heaviness in his chest.

And so, he broke down, tears streaming freely as he released the burden he had been carrying for far too long.