Chapter 2: The Protagonist and the Supporting Roles

Chapter 2: The Protagonist and the Supporting Roles

8:30 in the morning.

There’s only thirty minutes left until the final assessment.

The morning sunlight streamed through the tempered glass, spilling across the heavily guarded training grounds of the base.

Walking down the corridor, Tendou and Caroline stepped into the field side by side.

Tendou licked the last trace of cream from the corner of his lips, savoring the lingering sweetness that he just couldn’t get enough of.

Beside him, Caroline was giving him a look that mixed disdain with resignation, clearly unimpressed by his childish antics.

“Tendou, are you a hamster or something? You ate so much, you even stole my slice of strawberry cake.”

“What hamster? This is called strategic reserves~”

The transmigrator pushed his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose, which caused the lenses to gleam with a sly arc of reflected light.

“Besides, Caroline, today’s the day of the final test. Those people already have tempers shorter than a lit fuse, and right now they’re basically powder kegs. If a fight breaks out later—”

He hadn’t even finished his sentence when a timid figure scurried over from the corner of the training ground.

“Bro-Brother Tendou, Sister Caroline…”

It was Chen Kong, looking as skittish as a startled rabbit. Even his greeting came out trembling, as if afraid of being scolded for simply existing.

He was small and thin, his cheeks hollow. Even his training uniform was a size too large, its cuffs worn white from overuse.

It was painfully obvious that life in the base hadn’t been kind to him.

But Tendou didn’t treat him any colder for it.

“Yo, Kong-kun~”

Throwing an arm around his shoulders, Tendou ruffled his messy hair with a bright grin.

“So, how’s it going? Had breakfast yet?”

“Y-Yeah, I ate…”

“What’d you have?”

“Uh… just the regular nutrient meal.”

Chen Kong’s voice was so lacking in confidence it was almost inaudible.

In truth, he hadn’t even managed to eat that much—his food had been stolen away by other trainees.

Unaware of this, Tendou dramatically sucked in a sharp breath.

“What?! On a day as crucial as the final test, you’re telling me you ate that pig slop?!”

He shook his head with the pained air of a man mourning wasted potential.

“No wonder you’ve never been able to awaken your Star Core, Kong-kun.”

Chen Kong blinked in confusion. “Eh? Wait, eating breakfast has something to do with Star Cores?”

“Of course it does!”

With a dead serious expression, Tendou jabbed a finger at himself.

“As the number one prodigy of Embers, my brain consumes sugar at the rate of three full-grown adults every day. Don’t believe me? Just look.”

He leaned in close. Behind the tinted shades, his azure eyes flickered with a dangerous glow, like constellations shifting in a boundless night sky.

Though it was nothing more than eye contact, Chen Kong felt an overwhelming pressure crush down on him in an instant.

It wasn’t like facing someone only half a month older than him.

It was like standing before a ferocious Starbeast, one that could tear him apart effortlessly at any moment.

Seeing how the so-called “protagonist” shrank back just from a glance, Tendou chuckled.

“See, Kong-kun? That’s what happens when you eat nutrient gruel.”

“And why am I so strong? Obviously because I eat double portions of sweets every day!”

“If you did the same, ate double the desserts every single day, you might just awaken your Star Core on the spot.”

“R-Really?!” Chen Kong’s eyes lit up with naive hope.

“Idiot. He’s lying to you.”

Before Chen Kong could even decide whether to believe it, a cold, clear voice cut through the air from straight ahead.

The three turned—and there she was.

Chen Kong's sister, Chen Xing.

No one knew when she had arrived, but she now stood directly before them, the blood-red greatsword Bloodflame slung across her back. The blade gleamed with a sinister luster under the morning sun.

Tendou and Caroline didn’t show much of a reaction.

But the boy in Tendou’s arms? He instantly stiffened like a mouse cornered by a cat, shrinking back with visible fear.

“B-Big sis…”

He curled up into himself, not even daring to meet her gaze.

Chen Xing, however, couldn’t have cared less.

She had long since grown accustomed to her useless, good-for-nothing little brother.

Not even sparing Chen Kong a glance, Chen Xing’s crimson star-eyes locked directly onto Tendou.

“Tendou, still trying to trick people with that ridiculous sweet-tooth theory of yours?”

“How can you call it tricking~?”

Tendou spread his hands with a carefree grin.

“Science has proven that sugar not only stimulates brain activity, it also—”

“Shut up.” Chen Xing cut him off coldly. “Not everyone is a hopeless sugar addict like you.”

The words fell like ice.

In an instant, the entire training ground fell silent.

Around them, trainees instinctively took several steps back, as if they all knew exactly what was coming.

After all, the last person who dared to speak to Tendou like that… had spent an entire month in the infirmary.

Since then, no one—not a single soul—had dared to speak to him that way.

No one, except Caroline.

But Tendou didn’t seem the least bit offended by Chen Xing’s venom.

He only shrugged, feigning a pitiful expression.

“Xing-chan, if you keep saying things like that, my feelings might get hurt.”

Then, as if a sudden thought struck him, his expression shifted. His gaze lingered on Chen Xing’s refined features and queen-like bearing, watching her so intently that it left her utterly baffled.

Just as Chen Xing was about to snap at him for staring, Tendou suddenly leaned closer, lowering his voice.

“Or maybe, Xing-chan, the reason you’re so worked up… isn’t because you look down on Kong-kun. Maybe it’s because you’re jealous—jealous that he gets my special guidance.”

“If you’d just admitted that earlier—”

“—Hah?!”

Chen Xing’s expression instantly twisted. “Me, jealous of this trash?”

With a sharp motion, she ripped the blood-red greatsword from her back, its tip swinging to point not at Tendou—but directly at her brother.

“It’s been two whole years, he hasn’t even managed the most basic star energy resonance! And you call this garbage—”

“Oi, oi. I can let a lot of things slide, but badmouthing your own brother like that? That’s going too far.”

Tendou’s easy smile vanished.

Behind his sunglasses, his eyes sharpened, radiating dangerous intent.

At once, a crushing aura burst out from him, spreading across the grounds like an invisible wave.

The closest trainees instantly buckled, their knees trembling violently. Even Chen Xing’s sword hand quivered, though not from fear—her jaw clenched tight as she forced herself to withstand the overwhelming weight, as if bracing against a tidal wave.

“…Did I say anything wrong?” Chen Xing gritted her teeth, forcing the words out.

“Out of all thirty-six students in the Stellaris Program, he’s the only one who hasn’t even—”

“That’s because his Star Core is… special.”

Tendou’s interruption hit like a bomb.

The crowd erupted in whispers, eyes flashing with shock and suspicion as they turned toward Chen Kong. Even Caroline, who prided herself on having the full dossier of every student, couldn’t help but arch a brow.

If anyone else had said such a thing—Chen Xing, even as his sister—no one would have believed it.

But these words came from Masamune Tendou, the undisputed number one of the Starlight trainees.

And Tendou… had neither the need nor the patience to lie.

“M-My Star Core… is special?”

Even Chen Kong himself froze in disbelief.

Tendou chuckled, watching the boy’s uncertain eyes with a mysterious smile.

“That’s right. Very special. So special that no one but me has figured out what it really is.”

“Well? Want to know what I’ve discovered?”

Chen Kong’s head bobbed up and down in an eager nod. For the first time, his eyes—so long dulled by inferiority and self-doubt—glimmered with something else.

With hope.

And Tendou, who already knew the entire plot of the first season, didn’t mind feeding the “protagonist” a few spoilers ahead of schedule.

Tendou leaned close, whispering so only Chen Kong could hear.

“Kong-kun, your Star Core isn’t unawakened. It’s just too strong. So strong that even you can’t control it.”

Chen Kong’s eyes widened. “Th-Then why can’t I—”

“Shhh~” Tendou raised a finger to his lips, grinning playfully.

“The answer’s only fun if you discover it for yourself, don’t you think?”

Just then, the massive doors of the training ground swung open.

A squad of fully armed guards marched inside with crisp, heavy steps. Their black tactical helmets gleamed under the light, each one stamped with the emblem of the Ember Organization.

“Looks like the assessment is about to begin~”

Seeing the arrival of the Black Hounds, Tendou released Chen Kong and gave his shoulder an easy pat.

“Do your best, Kong-kun. I’m expecting great things from you.”

To receive encouragement from the number one among the Starlight trainees—

For Chen Kong, the certified bottom rank of all thirty-six, it was like a surge of pure fire had lit within him. His face shone with sudden determination, a rare and unfamiliar spark.

But that flame didn’t last long.

“Idiot,” Chen Xing’s cold voice cut in like a bucket of ice water. “You actually believe that nonsense? Tendou’s obviously just toying with you.”

“If your Star Core really were so special, fine, maybe the rest of us missed it. But the Organization’s experts? You think they wouldn’t have noticed?”

“You don’t seriously believe they’re as clueless about Star Cores as we are, do you?”

Her words carried weight. Logic. Realism.

The crowd’s excitement quickly cooled, their gazes on Chen Kong shifting from shock back toward dull indifference.

Even Chen Kong himself faltered, his fragile hope crumbling. His eyes dimmed again, the light draining away as quickly as it had come.

Watching Chen Xing crush her brother a second time, Tendou finally spoke.

“Xing-chan, how about we make a little bet? Let’s wager on whether Kong-kun awakens his Star Core during the final assessment.”

“…What kind of bet?”

“Desserts, of course. If I win, you hand over your desserts for the next three months. If I lose, then—”

“You’re not allowed to interfere,” Chen Xing snapped, cutting him off before he could finish.

“No problem.”

Tendou agreed immediately, his tone smooth, but behind the lenses of his shades, a sly glimmer danced in his blue eyes.

After all, he had already peeked at the script through his Popularity System.

He knew exactly what would happen in the original story—how Chen Kong, cornered in despair during the assessment, would awaken that broken, game-breaking ability: Star Energy Nullification.

This was a wager he literally couldn’t lose.

But Chen Xing wasn’t finished.

“In addition,” she said coldly, “I want to change the terms.”

“…Change what?”

Tendou tilted his head, brows raised in feigned confusion.

Chen Xing drew a deep breath. Her beautiful eyes burned with dangerous light, and her chestnut hair visibly bled into crimson strands as her star-power surged.

“If I win… I don’t want your desserts. I want you—seriously, with everything you’ve got—to fight me.”

The air shifted.

Tendou’s grin slowly faded. In silence, he removed his sunglasses.

The moment he did, that monstrous aura—like a tsunami crashing down from the heavens—flooded the training ground once more.

They had already tasted his pressure once today.

But now, facing it again, Chen Xing found it nearly unbearable.

This time, Tendou wasn’t playing.

This time, his killing intent was stronger, heavier—enough to choke the breath from every throat present.

Chen Xing gritted her teeth, forcing herself to stand beneath it, but the weight crushed down until her knees buckled, driving her half to the ground.

Tendou’s voice was calm, but every word pressed against her chest like iron.

“Xing-chan, once or twice, I can overlook certain things.”

“But three times… four times… that’s another matter entirely.”

He stepped forward, closing the distance until he towered above her, his shadow spilling across her trembling form.

Looking down at the girl forced to her knees by his pressure, Tendou’s gaze was steady, merciless.

“After all, a lion won’t tolerate a hyena’s repeated provocations.”

“So, wait until you’ve completely mastered your Star Core, and truly understood its purpose, before you come to me with this kind of discussion.”

“Because right now, you don’t even have the qualifications to make me fight seriously. You can’t even withstand my pressure, can you?”

As he spoke, Tendou lightly patted Chen Xing’s tense shoulder, then withdrew his aura.

In an instant, the suffocating, sword-drawn atmosphere inside the training ground was gone, replaced with calm.

But Chen Xing’s proud nature refused to accept defeat so easily.

Twice now—twice already—she had been crushed by Tendou’s star energy pressure alone.

Biting her lip, Chen Xing gripped her Bloodflame even tighter.

No—she couldn’t accept being so weak that she couldn’t even raise her weapon against Tendou.

Seeing her intent to defy him, Tendou’s eyes narrowed slightly.

At his side, Caroline quietly slipped her hand into her pocket, as if grasping something.

For a moment, the very air in the training ground seemed to freeze.

No one dared to even breathe too loudly.

Then, suddenly, the metallic doors of the training ground swung open.

Click, click, click—sharp staccato footsteps of high heels rang out.

A graceful figure walked inside.

“Well, well. Bullying your classmates again, Tendou-chan?”

Ember Instructor, Tachibana Yume, strode forward with elegant, feline steps, her voluptuous figure wrapped tightly in a black uniform—drawing furtive glances and audible gulps from the adolescent trainees around her.

But that was all.

Because they all knew that this woman who had an angel’s body had a heart more devilish than any devil.

Only when facing Tendou would she reveal that gentle, almost “big sister next door” kind of special treatment.

A privilege reserved only for geniuses.

Faced with Tachibana’s teasing remark, Tendou immediately protested:

“Wrongfully accused, Yume-nee! I was simply having a friendly, productive exchange with classmate Chen Xing. How is that bullying?”

“Save it.” Tachibana flicked his forehead with a finger, then turned toward Chen Xing.

“The assessment is about to begin, and yet you were about to attack one of your classmates. Chen Xing, have you forgotten the organization’s rules?”

Hearing this, Chen Xing silently sheathed her greatsword and lowered her head, returning to the ranks.

Watching her retreating back, Tachibana sighed in exasperation:

“Tendou-chan, why is it you can never get along with Chen Xing? The two of you are the most promising talents in the organization. Can’t you cooperate, just once?”

Tendou spread his hands innocently.

“Yume-nee, you can’t blame me for this. Chen Xing was the one who provoked me on purpose. I was just defending myself.”

“You…” Tachibana shook her head with helpless resignation, then said, “Forget it. I’ll deal with you after the assessment.”

“For now, get back in line. The test is about to start.”

“Today, a lot of important figures from the organization are here. Don’t you dare mess this up.”

Hearing that, Tendou only grinned.

“Relax, Yume-nee. I’m the strongest, after all.”

At that bold, almost arrogant declaration, Tachibana wanted to remind him to stay humble—but in the end, she didn’t refute him.

Because, as Tendou said, among the 36 trainees of the Stellaris Program… Tendou was, without question, the strongest.

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Note: Stellaris is a CN Produced Anime, that’s why the name of the original main character is Chinese