Capítulo 5: Chapter 5 – Mocked at Roll Call
The bell tower rang sharply, echoing through the halls of Ironveil Academy. Students filed into the main hall for the morning roll call, a tradition where names were read aloud to mark attendance and discipline.
Toma sat nervously on the back row bench, clutching his broken chair leg like a talisman. His bruises from the sparring match had barely faded. Whispers still followed him wherever he went.
"Isn't that the kid who came back from the dead?""Maybe he's a demon wearing Toma's skin…""Nah, look at him. He's just… trash."
Toma hunched his shoulders. His hands tightened.
"Ignore them, partner," the System hummed in his head. "After all, you're destined for greatness. They'll sing your praises one day."
Toma almost smiled.
Then the System added: "…Though maybe not today. Today you're going to suffer."
"What?" Toma muttered.
Before he could ask, the roll call began.
---
The assistant instructor, Miss Harla, stood at the front with a parchment scroll. Her voice rang out in the hall, crisp and clear.
"Arven!""Present!""Selira!""Here!""Darik!""…Present."
Students answered one by one, voices ringing with confidence. Then Harla's eyes fell on the next name.
She frowned. "Toma."
A snicker ran through the crowd.
She squinted, then corrected herself. "Sorry… Tomato."
The hall erupted in laughter.
"PFFT—Tomato?!""Hey, should we slice him and put him in a salad?""Careful, he might splatter juice everywhere if you hit him!"
Toma's face burned crimson. "I-It's Toma! Just Toma!"
Harla blinked, confused. "The scroll clearly says Tomato. Family name… Redvine?"
The laughter doubled.
Toma buried his face in his hands.
"OHHHH THIS IS DELICIOUS," the System howled, wheezing with laughter. "Tomato Redvine! The mighty fruit knight! Slicer of salads! Champion of ketchup!"
"Shut up," Toma hissed.
"No, no, let's embrace this! Imagine your final form: Lord Knight Tomato, Squeezer of Enemies."
"I SAID SHUT UP!"
The students turned to look at him.
Harla raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"
Toma stammered. "N-Nothing, Instructor!"
---
As roll call ended and students shuffled into formation, Darik and his gang couldn't resist.
"Well, well," Darik sneered, blocking Toma's path. "Didn't know we had a vegetable in class."
"Not a vegetable," another senior snorted. "Fruit. Technically."
"Right, my mistake." Darik leaned in close, smirking cruelly. "Careful, Tomato. If you sit in the sun too long, you'll rot."
More laughter from the crowd.
Toma's fists clenched. He wanted to shout back. He wanted to swing his chair leg into Darik's smug face.
But the System whispered in his ear: "Don't fight here. Not yet. Instead…"
"…Instead what?" Toma muttered.
"Instead, play along. Confuse them. Make them laugh with you, not at you."
Toma blinked. "That… actually sounds smart."
"Of course it does. I'm a genius. Now repeat after me…"
Toma took a deep breath. "At least I'm not a turnip."
The crowd froze.
Darik blinked. "…What?"
Toma raised his chin. "Yeah. You heard me. Turnip-boy."
Snickers rippled.
Toma pressed on. "You've got the shape for it. Big round head, stubby legs. Honestly, Darik, if you stand still too long, someone might try to stew you."
The courtyard burst into laughter. Even Harla covered her mouth, struggling not to giggle.
Darik's face turned beet red.
"Y-You little—!" he growled.
But before he could throw a punch, Instructor Varic stormed into the hall.
"What is going on here?!"
Silence fell instantly.
"Back to formation! Now!"
Students scrambled into place, though several still snorted under their breath.
For once, the laughter wasn't all at Toma's expense.
---
Varic paced in front of the students, his eyes burning with disapproval.
"You think this is a market square comedy show? You are future knights! Discipline is the first pillar, and you lot have none."
He barked. "Line up! Discipline drill!"
Groans echoed as the students dropped into push-up positions.
"Fifty!"
The hall filled with the sound of straining arms and groaning voices.
Toma struggled almost immediately, his weak arms trembling. He barely managed ten before collapsing.
Varic's boot slammed beside him. "Pathetic."
Toma's cheeks burned. He tried again, arms shaking, sweat dripping down his face.
"Need a hand, partner?" the System whispered.
"Yes!" Toma hissed.
"Good. Here's a stat screen. Try putting one point into Strength."
[Stats Menu]
Strength: 3 → 4
Agility: 5
Vitality: 4
Intelligence: 6
Luck: 1
A jolt of energy surged through his muscles. Suddenly, the push-ups didn't feel as impossible.
Toma gritted his teeth and pushed harder, managing to keep up with the others. Barely.
Varic glanced down, surprised. "…Hmph. At least you're trying."
Toma's chest swelled with pride.
"See? With me, you'll become a proper knight in no time!" the System said smugly.
"Yeah," Toma whispered. "Maybe you're not so bad after—"
"Also, your butt is sticking up too high. Everyone behind you is getting a free show."
Toma collapsed again, groaning.
---
After class ended, Toma dragged himself out of the hall, sore and humiliated.
Whispers followed him again.
"Tomato…""Hey, Tomato, nice push-ups!""Juicy work out there!"
Toma groaned. "This is going to haunt me forever, isn't it?"
"Yes."
He clenched his fists. "I'll prove them wrong. I'll show them I'm more than a name, more than trash, more than a Tomato."
The System hummed. "And when you do… we'll make ketchup out of all of them."
Toma facepalmed. "…Why do I even listen to you."
But as he walked home, sore and mocked, something inside him was shifting.
For the first time, the laughter didn't feel entirely cruel. Some students had laughed with him. Some had even looked impressed.
Maybe… just maybe… this was the start of something.
Estado de energía semanal
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