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Take This, My Full Attention

“Wait, who’s sparring with who now?”

The news of a duel between Laura Freeze and Claretta Barriette  spread like wildfire.

‘This place is packed.’

The arena’s spectator seats were already overflowing.

With two women of such beauty—worthy of being called national treasures—engaging in an intense sparring match, their physical prowess on full display, it wasn’t surprising the crowd gathered in droves.

Though, it was puzzling how many women were in the audience.

“Isn’t that her? Laura Freeze?”

“Yeah! Isn’t she amazing? So cool and confident!”

“She’s like a real-life prince…”

Laura Freeze had garnered quite a reputation after the recent snake incident. Her fanbase had quickly grown, encompassing men and women alike. Of course, some disliked her for being aloof, but that only further polarized opinions.

This is the curse of being a protagonist.

“Why are they sparring in the first place?”

“You don’t know? It’s Claretta Barriette… She’s infamous for being obsessed with fighting.”

“Well, true. There’s never a dull moment with her around.”

“But she’s pretty skilled, isn’t she?”

“Skilled? Are you forgetting her position?”

“What? Isn’t she a frontline fighter? She uses a greatsword.”

A greatsword? Far from it. Cletta was a tank—a mid-sized tank who wielded a shield as massive as her own body.

“That’s odd. I heard she’s super aggressive in her style.”

“Exactly. Even during practical classes, she doesn’t act like a tank at all. People say she just charges in like a berserk dog.”

The chatter of nameless extras wasn’t far from the truth. Cletta’s flaw as a mischievous tank lay precisely in this.

That crazy woman doesn’t defend.

Instead, she swings her enormous shield to crush monsters, smashes them, charges in, and leaps out of range. Cletta’s tanking skills were exceptional, but her refusal to defend was a critical weakness.

Why doesn’t Cletta defend?

I’m probably the only person who knows the real reason. Not even the regressors can guess it.

To be precise, no one aside from Cletta herself knows her true intentions. She takes that secret to the grave.

As for me? I only know because I once read her character’s lore in a game guide in a previous life.

Apparently, the developers had no intention of fully revealing her backstory and never included it in the game. By the time Cletta is recruited as the protagonist’s ally in the mid-late chapters, some of her flaws are mitigated.

Though “mitigated” might not be the right word.

In the end, it was clear her fatal flaw would lead her to an early demise.

Thunk.

“Hey, where are you going?”

As I stood to leave the spectator seats, a stranger grabbed my arm.

“Urgent business,” I replied.

“Seriously? You’re gonna skip this match?”

“I have to move fast.”

“Oh, is it that? A bathroom emergency?”

“Ha! Something like that.”

It wasn’t about me needing the bathroom.

It was about the colossal mess caused by the regressor. I just needed to move quickly to clean up their mess and claim the rewards for myself.

‘Thanks for the feast, Regressor.’

Casting a glance at the two girls standing in the center of the arena, I slipped out without hesitation.

Claretta Barriette.

That’s my name.

I was born into a modest family—not too poor, not too rich. My early life was spent in a cozy home, just the right size for a family of three.

It was a humble place, but its cramped spaces fostered close bonds, and its worn-down charm was filled with memories and affection.

When I woke up, the low ceiling above me always greeted me. It was so old and shabby that sunlight seeped through its cracks, making the beams sparkle like stars.

I loved that view.

“Peek-a-boo! Good morning, my little princess. What’s got you staring so hard this early in the day?”

“Ah! Daddy, don’t block it! I’m observing!”

“Observing? Where did my clever girl learn such a big word?”

“From the books you bring home, Daddy!”

My father was an adventurer.

Not a particularly successful one, but he earned enough to keep our small family fed. As a member of a modest-sized clan, he traveled between dungeons on expeditions, always bringing back small gifts for me.

From all kinds of books to broken magical artifacts and harmless trinkets, those treasures became my only source of entertainment in my childhood.

Maybe that’s why, despite the sadness of his departures, I always felt a sense of anticipation when he went on a journey.

“Dad, how long will you be gone this time?”

“Hmm… This time, it might take a while. Your dad’s got a big job this time!”

“A big job? What’s so great about it? Does it pay a lot?”

“Well… yeah, it does. But, you know, there’s something more important than money for an adventurer.”

“Dad, there’s nothing more important than money.”

“Ehem. Princess, why don’t we talk about something else? Anyway, when I get back, I’ll bring you a three-tier cake as big as you and that ultimate constellation book you’ve been wanting!”

“Really? Dad, you’re the best!”

“Princess… Let’s use prettier words, okay?”

“Okay. Got it. No problem.”

Two days later, my father left. Normally, his preparations only took half a day, but this time, it took him two full days—proof enough that this was a major undertaking.

Even as a child, I could tell.

The boyish excitement on his face spoke volumes about how much he was looking forward to this adventure.

That’s why it was so hard to believe.

A week later, when my father returned, he wasn’t the same.

The proud and sturdy man I knew was gone.

Instead, I saw his blood-drained, pale face through the words of his comrades.

I had only rushed outside to greet the rare sound of footsteps approaching our home. But when his companions saw me, they quickly tried to hide him from my view.

It was too late.

The sight burned itself into my consciousness.

It wasn’t something alive. It wasn’t even a memory.

It stuck to me—thick, sticky, and unbearably heavy.

“Ah… uh… ah…”

My voice.

My words.

My heart.

Everything froze shut.

“Princess… Use… prettier words…”

His face. My father’s face.

It wouldn’t leave me.

His lifeless eyes stared at me, completely dry, while his bloodied and saliva-streaked lips parted. Slowly. Deliberately. Repeating those words.

‘Mom, are you okay?’

‘I’m fine.’

‘Mom, don’t cry.’

Words like that wouldn’t come out.

No kind words.

Not even comforting ones for my mother.

“Idiot.”

“Trash.”

“Useless scum.”

I couldn’t speak pretty words anymore.

All I could do was spit venom.

It was the only form of communication left to me.

“Mom, I’m going to be an adventurer.”

I didn’t expect a response.

After my father’s death, my mother’s illness worsened, and she passed away within a year.

It wasn’t a declaration; it was more of a plea.

A request to watch over me.

“Worthless tanks like that aren’t needed in this world.”

I had been told my father’s death was caused by a tank.

The one who brought in the quest—someone two ranks above my father’s clan—was a tank. That person had failed to hold the boss monster’s aggro during the expedition.

No, failed wasn’t the word. They had run away.

Naturally, the boss targeted the frontliner, my father, who wielded a greatsword. Despite his best efforts, it was futile—monsters with high intelligence prioritize the most dangerous threats.

First, they eliminate sorcerers, then go after agile classes like rogues and hunters.

The slow-moving frontliners are saved for last, like the main course of a meal.

But my father couldn’t stand by and let the monster attack his companions.

So, he fought. He used every trick he had to pull the boss’s aggro onto himself.

In the end, he succeeded.

His comrades escaped, and in the fleeting hope of a miracle, they managed to recover at least his head. They said it was a miracle they were able to bring back even that much.

“A miracle? Don’t make me laugh.”

There’s no such thing as a miracle.

That wasn’t a miracle.

It was my father’s sacrifice—his deliberate, calculated actions—that made it possible.

If it came from such a process, it wasn’t a miracle.

‘What a joke.’

I don’t resent that pathetic tank.

Nor do I hold a grudge against the clan members who survived thanks to my father.

The reason I want to become an adventurer is simple: I want to reduce the number of people who die like my father did.

Even if I don’t have the talent to be a tank, I never want to see my party members die.

“Life is all about aggro, you worthless idiots.”

That was my philosophy.

Claretta Barriette .

“Talking nonsense like that—are you giving up already?”

“Oh… right, I’m still in the middle of a sparring match, huh?”

I was absolutely destroyed.

Laura Freeze?

I knew she was eccentric when she personally came to challenge me, but this… This girl is insane.

And ridiculously strong.

Aggro? Forget it.

Did I even last two exchanges with her?

“Now you have to admit it. I’m stronger than you.”

“Yeah, sure. And what? Does beating a tank in a one-on-one duel make you feel good? What a lunatic.”

“A victory is a victory. Now, you have to listen to me.”

“What?”

What is with this girl?

Her eyes are sparkling with something unsettling.

“Fine, I lost. But why should I do what you say?”

“Because you’re the kind of person who obeys someone stronger than them.”

“What nonsense are you spouting, idiot?”

This girl is out of her mind.

I didn’t like her from the start.

What gives her the right to act like she knows me? It’s infuriating.

“Hey, buzz off. If you want someone to obey you that badly, save up and buy a slave, psycho.”

“What? This… This doesn’t make sense!”

“What doesn’t make sense?”

The best way to deal with a lunatic is to avoid them entirely.

Just as I was about to leave, a shadow fell over me.

“What the hell? Who’s there?”

“My name is Yuto.”

Looking closer, I recognized him.

The guy who recently ranked up.

At our first encounter, he immediately started picking a fight—his antics were so attention-grabbing I couldn’t ignore him.

And now, here he was again, standing next to this lunatic.

“What, did you come to pick her up? Your girlfriend?”

I raised my pinky finger sarcastically, but Yuto ignored me without a second glance.

“I’m here for you, Claretta Barriette .”

“For me? Why?”

“Take this. It’s something you need.”

“Wait, what? Something I need?”

What’s with these two acting like they know me?

It’s aggravating.

But what’s this? A book?

What, am I supposed to use it to smash someone’s head in?

The moment I touched the book, a blinding light erupted from it, and bold text appeared before my eyes.

༺═──────═༻

Attention Seeker

༺═──────═༻

“This is a consumable artifact, isn’t it?”

Artifacts like this were rare.

But when I read the details, I couldn’t help but gasp.

༺═──────═༻

Dispels all aggro from living beings.

Author: Ping Pong

༺═──────═༻

The ultimate goal I had been striving for was now right in front of me.

“Holy… Who the hell are you?”

“My name is Yuto.”

“No! Not your name, you idiot!”

Who is this guy?

What the hell is he?