SCREECH!
Awakening to the harsh buzzing of the bunky and shabby television, Izel held his breath against the horrible scents wafting through the room. He began giving his room the gentlemanly treatment. And with swirling dust and dirt in the air, Izel pressed forward, shrouding his face with a nose mask.
After meticulously tidying up the drab and mundane room and preparing to discard the quirky trash, non-washable plates, and utensils into the central dumpster downstairs, he couldn’t help but notice the familiar presence of an elderly man with wrinkles—seemingly the landlord of this complex in the slum area of the Exodus section. The elderly man slowly emerged from his ‘own’ apartment, impatience evident in his stern words: “Izel! Rent is due. Where have you been…?” Attempting to fake a little concern for his blind tenant, he added, “I knocked, but no one answered.”
‘Ahhhh, man, is it the last of the month already?’ Izel briefly pondered, his hands enveloped in green gloves tightly gripping a sizable white bag of compact trash. Perhaps due to his recent whereabouts, his sense of time had become disoriented. Simply put, 27 days had slipped by since he was welcomed into the Fortress. In other words, time moved three times faster in the Fortress than in Eliluam.
“Oh, greetings, old man!” Izel, trying not to freak out at the discovery, responded with a smile, his other hand scratching the back of his head. “Hold on! Give me a second.”
‘Old man?’ the landlord pondered, feeling a twinge of confusion, yet brushed it off. ‘These young brats,’ he mused, always labeling him as old. ‘Am I that old?’ he inwardly wondered. In his heyday, he was so handsome that every lady wished to sniff his clothes, but he guessed how age caught up to him. Soon, getting back to reality, he nodded, his expression stiff as he glanced at the stinking bag in Izel’s left hand.
Izel, placing the tied bag on the floor nearby, hurried up the stairs into his room. Opening his bedside table, he found 12 lupin notes—two less than the lowest accommodation fee in all the slum sections. It was also the last cash he had borrowed from Jane Austen. With a sigh of relief, he thought, ‘That was in the past.’ Now, he aspired for a better life, grabbing 10 Lupin notes from the pile.
With 10 lupin notes in hand, Izel returned to the old landlord. “Here you go, sir.”
“Thank you, have a nice day, and see you next month.” The landlord accepted the payment with an urgent smile, but a sudden pause left Izel puzzled. “Something wrong, sir?”
“Please, can you hurry up and dispose of that?” the landlord urged.
“Oh! Yes!”
Blegh! The old landlord stretched his back and walked away, wondering how strong a blind man ‘really’ is to be carrying such a large bag effortlessly. That’s not all; he couldn’t wrap his mind around how he could even walk. Well, he couldn’t ask anyway; after all, only rent fees matter. “Hehe!”
Catching the departing landlord’s little chuckle, Izel let out a sigh, feeling the gloomy atmosphere of Eliluam compared to the uncertain atmosphere of the Fortress. And just like that, he began to walk over to the main dumpster in his Crocs.
TMP! TMP!
As Izel strolled toward the main dumpster, the gloomy atmosphere of Eliluam hung over him, as if impending rain was in the air. Or perhaps he was just overthinking it? Upon reaching the main dumpster, he found he wasn’t alone; it seemed he wasn’t the only one dedicated to keeping his room orderly. Coincidentally, Mable, his neighbor, was also disposing of trash today.
“Good morning, Izel. Did you just come from the Entertainment section today?” Mable asked, simultaneously tossing a rather large bag into the main dumpster. It was refreshing to know that she, among the few, was aware that Izel frequented the Entertainment section not for the mainstream ‘goodies’ but purely for his mental well-being – a visit to the popular succubus.
“Well, you could put it that way,” Izel replied, unable to spill the beans but truthful enough for someone like Mable to believe him.
“Like that? Are you implying you go somewhere else?”
“Nah! I just didn’t expect to last that long there.”
“I guess you were quite stressed from all the bullshit,” Mable remarked, recalling the challenges Izel faced as a Hunter before his banishment from the Guild. Her hands trembled, hesitating.
‘Bullshit? I suppose she still remembers a few things that happened to me,’ Izel thought, subconsciously sensing Mable’s bodily responses. Instead of feeling despondent or hated towards her, he smiled, hinting that he was currently different from his past self. However, she had experienced worse than him—having become a Hunter but unable to endure the gruesome experiences that always occurred in the Labyrinths. Yes, she was once afflicted with [Cascade] before quitting due to mental stress, hallucinations, and anxiety of almost getting killed in a C-rank labyrinth.
“It’s alright,” Izel consoled, reassuring Mable. “No need for regrets.”
“…”
Mable, at a loss for words, bowed slightly and murmured, “I wish I could have helped back then, so you wouldn’t have to endure—”
“…”
“I don’t believe there was anything you could have done to prevent it,” Izel interjected, cutting her off gently. “Besides, drawing more attention to yourself wouldn’t have been the solution.”
“But,” Mable lifted her head, determination in her eyes. “Perhaps I could have found a way to help you, instead of just witnessing it. I hate feeling powerless.” Her fist clenched tightly.
“Don’t let it weigh on you,” Izel advised, shaking his head with a warm, genuine smile – a smile that can brighten a woman’s dull life. “I’ve moved on, truly.”
Mable’s eyes widened in disbelief as she felt a release of burden in her heart, tears welling in the corners of her eyes. She bowed again, expressing gratitude. “Thank you,” she whispered, the weight of her emotions palpable in the air.
Izel, sensing the shift in mood, offered a small smile before changing the subject. With genuine interest, he inquired about Mable’s daughter, steering the conversation towards a more personal and uplifting note. “How is your daughter?”
“Welp, she’s doing fine,” Mable sighed as she glanced at the blind teen. The sudden shift in conversation suggested he had truly changed in some way. “… destroying things and trying to eat whatever she sees lately, Ueh,” she rolled her eyes, then harbored an admiring smile.
“So cute!” Izel chuckled. “I can really imagine that. Hehe,” he found solace in the cute baby conversation.
As they continued to chuckle and reminisce about her adorable baby moments, Izel found himself zoning out, a familiar habit. Mable observed him, her eyes widening blankly as she watched him absentmindedly discard the junk into the dumpster…
CLANK!!
SCATTER!!
THUMP!!!
CLACK!!!
“…”
“…”
The clattering sounds filled the air, prompting her to break the silence.
“Quite a hefty amount of trash,” she remarked, her tone a mix of surprise and amusement.
“Hehehe! Yeah, just cleaning up a bit,” Izel chuckled nervously. He couldn’t see, only hear her voice, and lacked the visual cues since his [Flawlation] wasn’t activated, and the Fortress special blindfold wasn’t with him, leaving his surroundings in darkness. Her voice, angelic, was at least half of what he could grasp during their interactions. After putting all the trash into the main dumpster, Izel pondered on how she consistently sought interaction, especially after discovering they were from the same guild. Despite her mental issues, she found a frequent dose of dopamine in their encounters.
As they bantered, Mable shifted gears, her tone turning more freely.
“But seriously, was Jane’s therapy that good? I hear it’s more costly than prescription.”
Firmly dumping the tattered and bloodied contents within the bag to avoid any suspicion or questions, Izel hesitated for a moment, then sighed.
“Yeah, technically. Yet, it’s better than prescription,” he said, hinting that pills dulled the senses and could be addictive. Of course, in some ways, succubus therapy is addictive as well.
Mable nodded understandingly. Curious, she continued, “You have a point. Seemingly, you need more of your senses than I do. By the way, what’s on your mind? Are you going to look for a new Guild?”
Izel paused, considering her question. “Not sure yet, still in the thinking stage.”
Raising her brows, Mable asked, “Thinking whether to go independent?”
“Why not?”
Mable let out a deep breath. It was something she had once thought about, but on Eliluam, things aren’t that simple; one needs to have a ‘titan wall’—a guild with a rich history and widespread fame—to rest on.
“Hmm. It is possible, but I suggest you think about it thoroughly before you make a choice.” She advised that Mable couldn’t convince him but only advised him since it was a nice idea that concluded the hypotheses that the blind man had somewhat changed in a way she couldn’t tell. She channeled mana into her eyes to gauge his tendrils of mana dancing around his body, Mable added, “After all, you seem to be different.”
“Uh, you knew!”
“What do you take me for? I’m an ex-hunter, you know.”
As they continued chatting, Izel couldn’t help but reflect on their interactions that never happened in the Guild but were different now. “… It was nice chatting with you, Mable.”
Mable smiled, “Yeah, it’s nice to have someone to talk to. It makes my day more interesting.”
Izel finished dumping the last of the trash, and they exchanged a few more smiles. “Guess I’ll see you around then,” he said, making his way towards the stairs.
Mable waved, “Sure thing. Take care!”
Izel ascended to his room, leaving Mable with her thoughts.
SLAM!
With a sigh, Izel removed his gloves and placed them on a table near the door. “Such a nice lady,” he remarked. Not only that, he coincidentally encountered the landlord. “Ugh! Anyway,” he muttered. Having meticulously cleared away every grain of dust, cobweb, and dirt scattered about, Izel released a deep breath, wiping away the beads of sweat on his forehead. “A room free from any trace of trash is the best,” he thought aloud, smiling.
His Collar Cardigan cloak, Black-slim fitted trousers, and [Cloud boots] underwent a thorough cleaning, allowing the blind man to finally savor the freshness as he opened his closed window. With precision, he arranged all the brought items neatly on the table beside his bed.
“Inventory!” he exclaimed, anticipating a response. Yet, nothing happened – no invisible rupture from the fabric of reality that he usually sensed. His optimism about the Fortress’ commands working was shattered. Not only that.
“Forum, Trading Centers…” he mused aloud. “All of them are non-responsive, huh?” It felt as if everything that had transpired was a mere dream. However, reality struck; only the ‘Runic Stone’ remained. Slipping the non-graded yet valuable pebble into his pocket, he sighed. Izel eventually conceded, grappling with the inability to use [Flawlation], a power that only worked with the ‘Fortress special Blindfold’. Since that demerit…
[Special Black Blindfold.
Grade: None.
Description: A black special blindfold that could only be utilized with a special visionary skill. It comes in a variety of colors and materials.
Demerit: It could only be sold in the fortress of Dungeons…]
… could only be sold within the Fortress and couldn’t be taken out. This aspect of its limitation wasn’t mentioned in the item description, as far as he could recall. With the recent Fortress updates, this restriction became apparent. Therefore, Izel had to rely on his overall sense in addition to [Sound Reading].
“Plus, [Mana Inspection] is manageable on special occasions,” he reconsidered. After all, Izel would have felt a bit peculiar if any of the Fortress operating systems had worked. ‘But,’ the blind man’s lips trembled, contemplating, ‘Inventory would have been a hit.’ Indeed, the suitability of the inventory in Eliluam would have been enormous. He could sign up for the ‘escort guild,’ and grind as a transporter for essential items, all without worrying about ‘transporter fees, carrier trunks, flying ships, or additional taxes. The notion of entering the smuggling and porter business briefly crossed his mind again—transporting awakened monsters’ carcasses, fragments, and weapons would spark a revolution, and the etheric world of opportunity would skyrocket.
“But life just never goes the way one wants,” he mused aloud. After cutting his losses and selecting an outfit from the closet, he took a hot shower, brushing his teeth multiple times. There was no way he could tolerate the stench and filth emanating from himself any longer.
“To think,” Izel mused aloud, “I lasted seven days without a proper light bath and clean teeth.” Even when life seemed unbearable, he persisted in brushing his teeth with his fingers and occasionally indulging in a light bath in the Fortress. It was an accomplishment, a small victory amidst his quest for strength. Cleaning himself with a piece of cloth and a few water skins in the Waiting Room wasn’t a luxury but a conscious effort to conserve as many Verdes as possible.
After enduring yet another thrilling three-hour marathon of life’s greatest hits, he dove headfirst into the bathtub, cranking the dial to a temperature that could rival the sun.
“HOT DAMN! THIS WATER’S GOT AMBITIONS! HEOK!!!” His hollers echoed like a symphony of surprised squirrels in his room.
— — — —
SWEECH!
Squeezing every scrub within his reach, Izel used a thick sponge to remove clotted blood and accumulated grime from his body repeatedly. Even after two baths, the lingering aroma of blood and dirt persisted. ‘I guess a few more baths are needed,’ he mused.
Though feeling helpless, the fairly brown-skinned teen persevered, eventually achieving a sparkling clean body after three additional baths. After washing his hair two more times and rolling it with rollers to retain its style, Izel finally exited the bathroom.
“…”
As he ruffled his long, noodle-like white-silver hair that cascaded down his shoulders, Izel, unable to see himself in the mirror as always, sensed his body structures by flapping his chest, feeling ripples traverse his fibers and internal organs.
In the past, he relied on the [Mirror Sound Reflector] principle to observe himself, a concept that worked fine with his dull [Sound Reading].
However, things are different now.
“…”
“This changes…”
As the waves rippled, Izel fixated his attention on his muscular structures, bones, and internal organs. The muscles, once hidden behind a layer of fat, now took the spotlight. Through regular workouts in the waiting room, they became sturdy but not overly large. However, the changes in his muscles, bone density, and internal organs, along with his overall metamorphosis, manifested a change in status, maturing into a build that the blind man preferred over the marble-sculpted muscles he disliked.
“… is marvelous. Just my type.” He never expected this much, but to think this is how he looks after his experience in the Fortress of Dungeons for seven days—Technically 27 days in the real world. Though it was hard to tell since his physical appearance didn’t change that much, when observed more closely, one could tell he had developed a considerably more mature body. A real Hunter appearance-wise. Although, in reality, Izel knew all too well that one of the reasons for this physical growth was the series of close-death battles.
In the end, it was enough to bring a radiant smile to his lips. Feeling a bit self-indulgent, he adorned himself. It wasn’t overly luxurious but certainly an improvement from being left with nothing under his Cloak when both his ‘Vests’ were torn away by the gatekeeper and Avalanche. “Ugh!” A slight throb on the side of his head served as a reminder of accumulated trauma, urging him to head to the rehabilitation center before it erupted through its bottleneck. A dreadful flashback of the previous raid, where he fainted, lingered in his mind…
Apparently lifeless dealer’s hollow, smiling face spoke accusingly, “WHY DID YOU KILL ME? WHY?!”
“WHY! WHY! WHY! WHY!”
“WHY! WHY! WHY! WHY!”
“WHY! WHY! WHY! WHY!”
Malicious gazes alongside dense and intense exclamations that once filled his mind flashed through his soul.
“SORRY, SORRY, SORRY???”
“Y-yes, it wasn’t my fault. I-I just have to do it to survive.”
“SURVIVE? SURVIVE? SUR…
The flashback memories abruptly ceased as he snapped back to reality, his breath heavy and his heartbeat racing.
BU-DUMP!
Izel trembled intensely but soon managed to calm his breathing. “I know, I need to get to Jane. But…” Shakingly, he mused aloud, sweat beading down his cheek, “I need to retrieve my ‘Hunter ID’ first,” he concluded, urging his accumulated trauma to hold on a little longer, clutching his head.
While he acknowledged it would be manageable to bear such weight, Izel figured he could endure it for a bit. Seated comfortably on his plush bed, he reflected on his rather mundane life, finding solace in the freedom and comfort it provided. With that, he pondered the potential cost of his bed’s size – perhaps 150 verdes or even 200 verdes? It was merely speculation. If the bed’s size warranted such a price, how much more expensive would the waiting room be? Maybe 1000 Verdes without the healing functions and even more with them. The question lingered: Was it worth it, regardless of the price? Izel shook his head, unable to provide an answer… Nevertheless, he admitted, “I’m still content with this setup,” even if it meant spending the day taking a shower and lounging on a cushy bed.
“…”
“Nah, I disagree, I’m not.” He contradicted his own thoughts. Initially, he deemed a powerless and worthless lifestyle worthless. However, after embracing the Fortress, he exerted all his gusto to survive and grow stronger. Now, he couldn’t imagine reverting to his old life. Despite the absence of complete relaxation in the Fortress due to the looming ‘Next Raid Countdown,’ it still beats the dull and worthless life. Was he already insane, or had he been that way from the start? Regardless, Izel yearned to indulge in a variety of delivery foods or perhaps even try his hand at cooking during any free time before his return.
‘After all, feasting on jerky, wheat bread, and water with awful demerits takes its toll,’ Izel thought. Yet, this wasn’t enough to break his will. No, perhaps he should try taking a few foods from Eliluam back to the Fortress. If he remembered before he went back, Izel decided he would give that a try. In any case—
“Let’s organize everything I need to do after acquiring the ‘Hunter ID,'” he said, deciding on his next move. He manipulated his mana over to his ‘Hunter Kit,’ which was inside his partially burnt, pocket-sized bag to his front.
WOOSH!
[…]
Staying afloat as the tendrils of mana enveloped it, Izel gaped, his attention fixed on the table in front of him. His mind raced, formulating a plan.
Upon returning to Eliluam, Izel yearned for the familiar air to fill his suffocating lungs, to cleanse himself, and to find rest. Within fourteen hours of his return, he accomplished all these tasks. Typically, without his improved stats, he would have required two days to recuperate. However, his [Constitution] surpassed human capability, reducing the needed rest to half a day.
“Secondly, I need to retrieve my ‘Hunter ID’ and restore it to my Hunter Kit,” he mused, his teeth gritted in frustration at the event that had forcefully stripped him of it. This unfortunate incident barred him from taking on any ‘Dirty jobs’ to sustain himself, a consequence of being blind, and a slow achiever. The memory of that pitiful event still caused Izel’s heart to jerk in rage, the severe state of his mental well-being at the time haunting him.
However, aware that allowing the turmoil in his mind to escalate could exacerbate his accumulated traumas, Izel consciously decided to calm himself. ‘It won’t be long, Velkist Cambormir,’ he thought coldly, regulating his shallow breath, “I will show you what it means for a blind man to prove his worth.” If his golden pupiled eyes weren’t scarred and dull, their intimidating nature would have been evident. Without further delay, he moved on to the next step of his plan.
“Thirdly, I need to amass a million Lupin from these items,” he declared. Having acquired E-graded equipment along with manageable items and details, Izel anticipated making millions of Lupin, even after factoring in bothersome transporter fees and additional taxes. With a better standing in life on the horizon, he proceeded to the next part of his plan.
“Fourth, I must alleviate some of my psychological stress and accumulated trauma and take the time to recharge,” he reflected. Ordinarily, he could inform Jane Austen about his impending visit, but as a Succubus, she might decline other customers in anticipation of Izel’s arrival. Weighing this thought, he sighed and dismissed the idea of notifying her. ‘Soon, I will achieve mental cleansing,’ Izel affirmed, his fist clenched tightly. Setting that aside, the blind man moved to the next phase of his plan.
“After completing all four tasks, I will begin engaging in lower-level Hunting,” he stated firmly. His plan involved undertaking a couple of ‘Dirty jobs,’ capturing criminals or ‘Acolyte’ or Hidden Hunters, and even challenging a ‘High-Hunter’ to establish his standing within the ‘Eliluam Continental ranks.’ Subsequently, he intended to tackle labyrinths or face off against fellow Hunters to ascend the ranks.
These preparations were essential before venturing back into the perilous alternate world where death lurked. Having endured seven consecutive days in the Fortress of Dungeons, Izel anticipated similar challenges in any labyrinth. However, armed with improved stats and newfound experiences, he doubted the ‘Hunter ID’ test would pose a significant challenge.
“So, in which rank would I be placed?” he mused curiously. The ‘Hunter ID’ test capped at C-rank, but it didn’t grant registration in the ‘Eliluam Continental rank.’ Progressing through more labyrinths or engaging in combat with fellow Hunters—be they High-Hunters, High-Rankers, or even Ascenders—offered one to climb the ladder, gaining fame and authority. Despite the tempting benefits, Izel preferred a steady growth strategy over rushing into things.
“However, having a C-rank in my Hunter’s Kit might also allow me to be able to put my items up for sale faster.” He stated.
And also guarantees the buyers its quantity due to the Hunter’s reputation. In a sense, when an unregistered Hunter attempts to sell even E-graded items, they face rejections, and additional fees, and are sometimes viewed as scammers by others. However, a registered Hunter with an ‘ID’ enjoys advantages and is treated differently, benefiting from a substantial reputation based on their rank. This helps avoid additional fees. Though, when asked if this alone justified returning to Eliluam, Izel had a ready answer, “I wasn’t the only one who was invited to the Fortress of Dungeons.”
It was an appropriate response to such a question, considering that not only experienced Hunters were invited, but also High-Hunters, perhaps even High-Rankers, bullies, civilians, and even Hidden Hunters. Each of these individuals likely aims to reach Eliluam after the A-rank Dungeon Raid, even with the new Fortress implementation announcement. While Izel doesn’t comprehend their motives entirely, some may seek more information about the mysterious alternate world. Overall, seizing the opportunity to accumulate wealth before the chaos ensues would be advantageous.
Moreover, additional Hunters would likely emerge, and ‘S’ experienced Hunters might be re-registered within the ‘Ranks,’ advancing to become High-Hunters and beyond. Even Bullies might aspire to attain the status of a Hidden Hunter or Acolyte. If a sufficient number of civilians survived, they would all become potential hunters. Consequently, society as a whole would be overwhelmed by chaos and disaster. Indeed, such an outcome appears inevitable.
Amidst his thoughts, Izel couldn’t help but ponder the ultimate goal of the Fortress and its enigmatic Administrator. What was the main reason for its creation? No matter how hard he shook his head, trying to grasp the Fortress’s end goal, he sighed, realizing he was overthinking. There was nothing to do but slowly research and unravel its purpose.
Unbeknownst to Izel, during his deep contemplation, the sky gradually darkened. Thunder broke out amidst thick, gloomy clouds, accompanied by purplish lightning, and rain began to fall…
“…!”
His [Sound Reading] caught it, and he swiftly dashed toward his window, the chaos outside intensifying; a few pinpricks of droplets blew in. Instead of hastily closing the window, Izel raised his head, sensing the curtain of rain. He lightly laughed, shaking his head, and said, “Good to be back home! Hehehehe!”
His voice rose in volume, and if not for the heavy downpour, neighbors might have lashed out for disturbing their peace. Yet, only the constant release of white smoke from factory chimneys and the graceful dance of large flying boats in the dark-painted clouds filled the air. After all, he had to make do with this, as the First District had a rainy climate, making floods and rain everyday occurrences.
As big torches of light pierced through the clouds toward his vicinity from the large flying boats, Izel quickly slammed the window shut.
SLAM!
As the rain intensified, it seemed as though Heaven and Earth melded into one. Despite the muffled downpour behind the locked window, Izel sensed its resonance. He exhaled deeply, continuing his contemplation.
Anyways, reclaiming his ‘Hunter’s ID’ became crucial for selling items acquired from the alternate world. “To achieve this, I must apply for the ‘Hunter ID’ test using my Hunter’s kit.”
GROWL!
“…”
Growling broke his contemplation as his stomach growled again, whispering the need for something different.
“…”
“Hehehe, I have to take care of this too,” he carefreely stroked his belly with a smile, getting up from the bed. He draped on his [Cloud Boots], cloak, innerwear, and [Black-slim fitted trousers]. Surprisingly, everything fitted nicely. Izel packed his long white-silver hair into a ponytail, a few bangs falling onto his front. He tied a stylish bandana over his face.
Having grown weary of jerky, wheat bread, and water with annoying demerits, the blind man craved something delicious. Yes, he needed to indulge in food. Well-dressed, Izel had nothing holding him back.
With anticipation, his mind sang for varieties of food to try. Chicken with soda, pizza, burgers, noodles, fish, rice… So many things he wanted to try now. Unfortunately, low cash held him back. With only 2 Lupin notes, he could at least satisfy his gluttonous nature. Izel took a few cups of water from the kitchen tap, savoring the tasteless yet refreshing water, reflecting on the days when he survived on somewhat tasty or salty water with pure guts.
Now able to freely drink refreshing water, Izel belted his scabbard, unsheathed his aurora shortsword, and prepared to visit a nearby restaurant. He grabbed a bamboo rain hat, placed it on his head, and exited his studio room, heading out into the heavy rain with a straight stature… and locking the door behind him.
SLAM! CLICK!
* * *
The gloomy clouds condensed, twisting within themselves as sparks of lightning spread across the sky. Rain fell, and pitter-pattered on Izel’s bamboo hat as he swiftly left his complex in the slums, weaving through the alley into the main street. The once lively main street, teeming with activity and pedestrians, now stood deserted as a torrential downpour caught everyone off guard. Only the neon signs flickered in a dazzling display dripping with rain droplets, their electric glow reflected off rain-soaked streets in a hypnotic aura. Rain-drenched advertisements and billboards cluttered the visual field, each vying for attention with a seductive promise of the future. Despite the relentless rain, the air hummed with the upbeat rhythm of music, as if the city itself sang a cheerful melody, drowned out yet alive.
“Welcome to Exodus, the main section in the First District,” declared the Moderator’s voice through the public address system, the face accompanying the announcement displayed for all to see despite the climate.
Izel chuckled silently, amused by the familiar name amid the downpour. The sidewalks, adorned with restaurants, bars, and salons, bustled with lively crowds. Laughter and curses echoed intermittently from these establishments. Raising his head, Izel detected the familiar ripples and frequencies of the airship hovering above the gloomy clouds. Sleek vehicles whizzed past on the wet, drained road, their signboards displaying unfamiliar letters.
“I knew the weather was chaotic but…” Izel smacked his lips. He never imagined the weather was this pleasant. It was unexpected to experience such an occurrence before, and now, it’s different. Could it be that the Alternate World changed him? Or could it be that he was already like this but never knew? Whichever the case, the blind man, who had vaguely imagined the occurrence of Walkers from the Fortress, believed the anarchic districts, full of chaos, would overturn into another ‘armaedeggon.’ soon enough. Not only that—.
‘When I expand my senses…’ He briefly thought.
Ripples, frequencies, and other details that were easily overlooked due to his dulled senses before his invitation began to come into observation little by little. Izel, with enhanced [sound reading] and other senses, was able to examine the surroundings more analytically than before.
‘Mana is everywhere.’
Rain-drenched signs and blurred letters adorned the walls of buildings, while a faint, harsh light permeated through the bustling machines. Closer to the nearest restaurant, amid the downpour, the traffic remained congested, eliciting a sigh from him. It had been less than two days since his return to Eliluam, yet the familiar power of mana enveloped the atmosphere, even in the rain. With mana pulsing throughout his body, mana that had contributed to the civilization built on these lands was quickly noticed by him.
‘I seem to be in this world, yet not truly a part of it,’ he mused, exhaling deeply. The clamorous noise merged with both Heaven and Earth as Izel walked alone in the heavy rain, sensing the rain becoming a curtain between sky and ground. The rain, cascading down his bamboo hat, emphasized his ‘own’ insignificance and loneliness.
Even though Eliluam and the niche the Fortress teleported him to had similarities, the factors at play differed. One world emphasized authority, power, and rules, while the other embraced freedom, balance, and uncertainties in civilization development. If Izel’s thoughts held, the processes and histories would diverge significantly. Suppressing the chaos within his mind, the blind man envisioned himself as a droplet of water in an expansive ocean between Heaven and Earth—diminutive, solitary, and profoundly alone.
The torrential rain and its thick fog enveloped everything, saturating the ground. The deluge and faint mist obscured the skies, casting an illusion over everything. Even the surrounding downpour appeared muted, its sound lost. Izel suddenly felt as if he had entered a dream, where people and surroundings ceased to exist. He walked alone through the relentless rain.
As if transformed into a ghost or sleepwalker, Izel’s heavy footsteps echoed in the rain, distant and surreal. This sense of incompleteness left him vulnerable and weakened.
Abruptly, he found himself in front of a well-lit area adorned with neon signs and the distant hum of people. Upon closer inspection, he realized he had unconsciously reached his destination. Amidst the downpour, a meticulously maintained restaurant stood adjacent to a bar, conspicuously standing out. The tantalizing aroma of various delicious foods wafted from within. The remedy for sorrows, loneliness, and hunger lay in shutting them out!
And the only thing that shut them off was food! Izel hesitated for a moment before he pulled the glass slide into the restaurant.
CL-SLAM!
TMP! TMP!
He walked through, and the glass slide closed behind him.
— — — —
The restaurant was crowded beyond belief, with various sizes of tables and chairs completely occupied. Despite the heavy rain, the business remained unaffected, as everyone in the First District considered the climate a normal phenomenon. Yet, in a secluded corner, a figure sat alone. His reflection, draped in a black cloak, adorned the glassy walls, raindrops trickling down. Wearing a bamboo rain hat and a stylish bandana concealing his face, he appeared to amuse himself. However, beneath the facade, a sense of solitude and loneliness lingered, though not entirely…
CRUNCH!
SHOOZE
It was none other than Izel, savoring the sound waves and aroma of tender chunks of chicken laps and wings enveloped in the steaming, clear broth. He had given the orders and, indulging in them himself, found satisfaction beyond comparison.
Sure, he could order burgers and pizza, but to him, nothing beat this. Izel began to dig into the bowls of white rice and pails of steamed chicken laps and wings. Stirring the laps and wings into the pail, he took a hearty bite of what could only be described as heavenly. The perfect combination of white rice and spicy hot soup slid down his throat, tearing the flesh off his lap.
“Kaaaah….” A moan of ecstasy inadvertently came out of his mouth.
Once he dipped a spoonful of rice into the soup and put it in his mouth, surrendering to temptation.
His mind emptied as he devoured the rest of the bowl. After six more servings, he finally found satisfaction.
“Could the blind guy eat so much because he lacks eyes?” one onlooker muttered to another.
Izel’s ears twitched, catching this murmur through [Sound Reading], couldn’t help but sigh at the misunderstanding.
“No, I don’t think so. Maybe he just has a big stomach,” replied another, casually sipping wine.
But the speculation continued.
“How does he even know where his mouth is?”
“Could he be a new Hunter?”
“No wonder he ate so much!”
“Hunters use more strength than normal folks, right?”
Some were curious, while others contradicted such speculation.
“No way he’s a Hunter; how can he fight without sight?”
“Exactly! Maybe he just ate a mole?”
Ignoring the chatter, Izel, emerging from his daze, felt himself succumbing to an endless food coma. Yet, he jolted awake, pulled out 2 Lupin notes from his pocket, and headed to the counter to settle the bill.
“….This is for the meals”
“Thank you! Please come again,” the attendant said cheerfully while collecting the money.
“…”
After a brief respite, Izel sighed, “Phew, I’m so full.”
With his stomach satisfied, his thoughts began to organize. It was only then that his next order of business came to mind: getting his ‘Hunter’s ID’ into his Hunter Kit.
—