Sorry, I Just Wanted to Run, but the Knife Threw Itself

Special class with Lieutenant Sarka… wasn’t a class.

It was more like: intense physical training, Aether Corps level.

“As tech-track cadets with above-average scores, you’re expected to be more than just theory-smart.
You must be able to survive on the real battlefield.”

Sarka stood tall in front of the three cadets selected for the special program: Deren, Ryn… and a girl from another class named Mira—a calm mechanic who always carried a wrench wherever she went.

Deren sat on a weapons crate, arms draped over his knees, staring at Sarka with the existential exhaustion of someone who deeply regretted waking up.

“First task: defensive training. Your objective—survive five minutes against tracking drones. No weapons allowed.”

“…No what?” Deren squinted.

“No. Weapons.”

Ryn immediately began planning strategy with Mira.
Deren? Slipped behind a pile of debris, already plotting his escape before the timer started.

Unfortunately—

DING!

Three round drones, each the size of a human head, burst from cover and shot forward.

“Target locked.”

Laser blasts fired.
Ryn deflected one with sharp reflexes. Mira hurled a metal pipe at the second unit.

And Deren?

“AAAH! These lasers are real?! This isn’t a simulation?!”

He bolted—then spun around, kicked a chunk of debris into a drone, and instinctively grabbed a training knife off the ground.
His movements were impulsive, but precise.

One drone fired a stun blast straight at his head.

Deren’s instincts kicked in.
He ducked, hurled the knife—
CHNK!
Right into the sensor slit. Drone down.

Sarka raised an eyebrow.
“…Hmm?”

Ryn and Mira turned, stunned.
“Did he just—?”

Deren stood frozen for a moment, then cradled his head.
“I was just trying to run away…
But the knife… it threw itself.”

Next session: speed and reaction test.

Deren attempted his usual half-hearted movements—
but due to the oversensitive sensors, his dodges ended up looking like expert-level evasions.

During the break, Mira approached him.

“You’ve trained in advanced martial arts, haven’t you?”

“I have.
Trained by life.
Running from a Metavore alone kinda teaches you things.”

Meanwhile, in the observation room...

Sarka spoke into her comm.

“He moves like a veteran.
But he’s not listed in any military record.
His profile… is too clean.”

Reiner’s voice came through the other end.
“Continue observation.
If he’s truly connected to underworld weapons, we’ll need physical proof.”

That night...

Deren sat in his workshop, staring at the training knife he accidentally brought back.

“…I don’t even remember throwing this…”

A message popped up from Clarice:

“Marketing wants to turn that ‘reactive knife incident’ into a product line. Want to split the profits?”

Deren sighed.
“I just want to sleep, Clarice… not become the legend of the magic knife.”

Unfortunately for him…

that legend… had only just begun.