So what if I am just a mob in a novel : I will get what I want

The creatures swarmed like a living tide, their glowing red eyes cutting through the darkness. Erin swung his sword with precision, his movements calculated, efficient. He didn't waste energy; every strike was deliberate. The sharp sound of steel meeting flesh and bone rang out, the stench of blood filling the air.

To his left, Mo Tang fought with a quiet ferocity, her movements fluid, almost graceful. Her dagger found its mark time and again, each strike delivered with a surgeon's precision.

Erin glanced to his right, where Rishitha stood. Her posture was tense, her shoulders squared as she gripped her blade tightly. She wasn't fighting yet—hovering instead between fear and resolve.

"Rishitha!" he barked, parrying another beast's claws. "Move! Don't just stand there—strike when you see an opening!"

Her eyes darted to him, wide and startled, but she nodded.

The next beast lunged at her, and she sidestepped awkwardly, slashing with her knife. The blade grazed its side, not deep enough to kill but enough to make the creature recoil with a snarl.

Erin felt a flicker of relief. She wasn't helpless. Clumsy, yes, but not hopeless.

"Good," he called out, his voice gruff. "Now follow through. Don't hesitate!"

Another beast came at her, and this time, she braced herself. Her knife plunged into its side, and though she stumbled backward from the force, she held her ground.

The creature collapsed, twitching, before going still.

For a moment, Rishitha just stared at it, her chest heaving. Then she looked up at him, her expression a mixture of shock and disbelief.

"I did it," she whispered.

Erin nodded sharply. "Don't celebrate yet. There are more coming."

As the fight dragged on, Erin's focus remained razor-sharp, but a part of his mind couldn't stop analyzing Rishitha.

She wasn't like him or Mo Tang. She wasn't a warrior, wasn't someone forged in the fires of conflict. But she had something else—something he couldn't quite put into words.

Determination? Resilience? Or was it simply desperation?

Whatever it was, it kept her moving, kept her standing even as exhaustion and fear threatened to overwhelm her.

And it stirred something in him.

He hated it

A guttural snarl snapped him out of his thoughts. A larger beast—its muscles rippling, its claws glinting like steel—charged at Rishitha.

"Rishitha, MOVE!" he shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos.

She froze for a split second, her body reacting a heartbeat too late. The creature's claws raked toward her—

—and Erin was there, his sword slicing cleanly through its neck.

The beast fell at her feet, blood pooling around its massive form.

Rishitha stared at him, her face pale, her eyes wide with terror and gratitude.

"You're too slow," he snapped, his voice harsher than he intended. "If I hadn't been here, you'd be dead. You can't freeze like that again."

She nodded shakily, her lips pressing into a thin line.

The beasts began to retreat, their numbers thinning. Erin's muscles ached, his breaths coming in ragged gasps, but he didn't let his guard down.

As the last of the creatures disappeared into the shadows, he lowered his sword, glancing around to assess the group.

Mo Tang was unharmed, her expression calm as she cleaned her dagger. Rishitha was a different story—her hands were shaking, her clothes torn, her face pale.

But she was alive.

Erin sheathed his sword and stepped closer to her.

"You did better," he said gruffly. "Still sloppy, but better."

She looked up at him, her eyes glimmering with a mixture of exhaustion and determination. "I'll get stronger," she said softly.

Something in her tone made him pause. It wasn't just a promise—it was a vow.

And for the first time, Erin felt a flicker of belief.

As they began to regroup, Erin's mind returned to the thoughts he'd been trying to suppress.

Rishitha was a liability—there was no denying that. She was untrained, inexperienced, and prone to mistakes that could get them all killed.

But she was also the reason Mo Tang was still alive. The reason their group hadn't fallen apart.

And the way she looked at him sometimes, with that quiet determination, made something in his chest tighten.

He didn't like it.

But he couldn't ignore it, either.

"Let's move," he said, his voice clipped. "We don't have time to waste."

As they walked, Erin found himself glancing at Rishitha again and again, his thoughts a tangled mess.

She was a mystery. A risk.

And perhaps the most dangerous thing of all—she made him feel.

As the group trudged forward through the blood-soaked forest, Erin felt the weight of the battle lift ever so slightly. The immediate danger was gone, but the unease inside him only grew.

He glanced at Rishitha again, her head lowered as she followed closely behind Mo Tang. She clutched her knife like a lifeline, her knuckles white. She was barely holding herself together, her steps uneven and slow.

Yet she didn't complain.

That was what unsettled him most.

Most people in her position would have broken down by now. They'd cry, scream, curse their fate. But Rishitha? She stumbled and fell, but she always got back up.

And that look in her eyes—it was a mix of fear, determination, and something he couldn't quite place.

He hated it.

Erin wasn't used to caring about others, not like this. He'd built walls around himself long ago, a fortress of indifference that kept him focused on survival.

Caring made you weak. It made you hesitate. And hesitation got you killed.

He told himself that Rishitha was just another liability, another person he had to keep alive for the sake of the mission.

But deep down, he knew that wasn't entirely true.

Rishitha wasn't like Mo Tang, who moved with the confidence of someone who understood the rules of this world. Nor was she like him, hardened by a lifetime of fighting and loss.

She was... different.

It wasn't just her clumsiness or her lack of experience. It was the way she seemed to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders, even though she clearly didn't belong in this place.

What was she hiding?

She wasn't just some ordinary girl thrown into extraordinary circumstances. Erin had seen enough to know there was more to her story. The way she interacted with the system, the way she seemed to anticipate dangers that others couldn't—it wasn't natural.

And yet, she never boasted, never sought attention. If anything, she tried to fade into the background.

It was infuriating.

As they continued walking, Erin couldn't shake the feeling that Rishitha was more important than she let on.

But why did he care?

He clenched his fists, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

This wasn't supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to feel anything for her. She was just a means to an end, a part of the group he needed to protect to complete his mission.

Yet every time she stumbled, every time she looked at him with those wide, uncertain eyes, something inside him cracked.

She made him feel... responsible.

It was dangerous.

Erin slowed his pace until he was walking beside her. She glanced up at him briefly, her expression guarded, before looking away.

"Keep your head up," he said gruffly.

She nodded but said nothing.

For a moment, the silence stretched between them. Erin wanted to say more, to ask the questions that had been gnawing at him since they'd met.

But he didn't.

Instead, he kept walking, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, his mind racing.

Whatever secrets Rishitha was hiding, he would uncover them eventually. Not because he cared—he told himself—but because they needed to survive.

And yet, deep down, a part of him knew that wasn't the whole truth.

Rishitha was more than a mystery. She was a reminder of something he thought he'd lost long ago.

Hope.

And that terrified him.

As they trudged forward, the forest began to thin, the trees giving way to open patches where moonlight spilled across the ground. Erin's gaze lingered on Rishitha, catching her silhouette in the silver glow. Her steps were unsteady, but her eyes burned with quiet resolve.

She's stronger than she thinks, he thought, begrudgingly.

He hated that he kept noticing things about her—how her hands trembled after a fight but never let go of her weapon, how her eyes darted everywhere, taking in every detail, even though she pretended to be oblivious.

She didn't just survive; she adapted.

But Erin also saw the cracks she tried so hard to hide. The doubt in her eyes, the way she hesitated before every decision. She carried something heavy—something that went beyond their shared struggle for survival.

He wanted to understand her.

And that realization sent a sharp pang of annoyance through him.

Why do I care?

Erin clenched his jaw, his grip tightening on his sword. Attachments were dangerous. They made you weak. He had learned that the hard way, again and again.

In this world, caring for someone was a liability. It gave your enemies leverage. It made you hesitate when you needed to act.

Rishitha was a liability. She was inexperienced, fragile, and distracted by emotions she couldn't afford to feel.

And yet...

She'd saved Mo Tang. She'd found the treasure room. She'd made decisions that no one else would have dared to make.

Despite her fear, she kept going.

It reminded him of himself, long ago.

He didn't want to think about the past, but it crept in like an unwelcome guest.

He remembered a girl—someone he had sworn to protect in another past. She'd been like Rishitha in some ways: determined, stubborn, full of hope despite the odds.

But he'd failed her.

Her death had taught him a harsh lesson. In this world, hope was a burden. The only way to survive was to let go of everything that made you human.

And yet, as he watched Rishitha struggle to hold herself together, he felt that old wound reopen.

Erin's pace slowed, his gaze fixed on Rishitha. She glanced back at him, her face pale and drawn, her eyes searching his for something he couldn't name.

"Erin?" she asked softly, her voice tentative.

He shook his head, forcing his expression back to its usual mask of indifference. "Nothing. Keep moving."

But as she turned away, Erin made a silent vow to himself.

He couldn't afford to care, but he also couldn't look away.

Rishitha was a liability, yes—but she was also the reason they were still alive.

If protecting her meant breaking his own rules, then so be it.

I'll make sure she survives. No matter what.

Even if it meant confronting the ghosts of his past. Even if it meant letting himself feel again.