The clock struck four in the afternoon. The dismissal bell had just rung.
Al stood up sluggishly from his seat, stretching with a small yawn. He packed his things at an unhurried pace, like someone with absolutely no plans for the rest of the day—because he truly had none.
Then, suddenly, he turned to the boy next to him. Neat appearance, calm face—the kind of kid you'd expect from an upper-class family.
"Hey, can I ask you something?" Al suddenly spoke up.
"Hmph?" said his classmate, who was busy packing his books.
"Do rich kids have to go straight home after school?"
The boy blinked, turned around with a wait, what? expression.
Confusion written all over his face. "Huh? What kind of question is that?"
"I'm studying how rich kids behave," Al replied seriously, though his tone carried a hint of mischief. "So, do they usually head home the moment school's over?"
The other boy just stared at him for a few seconds, completely thrown off by how weird Al was acting today.
Normally, this guy just slept through class or annoyed other people. And now he asked sociological questions about the upper class.
"…Why are you asking that all of a sudden? We don't even have homework about behavior analysis or something," the boy said, frowning.
Al leaned closer, eyes narrowing in mock seriousness. The move made his classmate instinctively pull back.
"Instead of answering, you're asking me back." Al said while shaking his head.
"No. I'm just curious. You suddenly asked something weird. Normally, you'd just bother me, but now you're acting all analytical, asking about elite behavior. That's strange," his classmate replied.
"Hmph. What's so strange about that? You're overthinking it. I was just asking. No need to be that curious about me. It's not like you're one of my fans, right?" Al teased with a grin.
The boy's face twisted in disgust. "What the hell? Who would even want to be your fan? You're insane."
Some of the remaining students glanced over at the outburst. Al just chuckled under his breath.
"Who knows, maybe someone out there is. Haha. But hey, I do have fans, you know." he said. "Whatever. Just answer already. What's so hard about that?"
The boy sighed heavily, already regretting engaging with this weirdo.
"Huff… Generally, elite kids are more disciplined with their time. So yeah, most of them go straight home. Though some families aren't that strict—it depends."
"So it depends on the family?" Al confirmed.
"Exactly. Like in my family, schedules have to be clear, activities must be efficient and safe—including getting home on time."
Al leaned back, smirking faintly. "Hmm… But I wasn't asking about you. You don't look like a rich kid." he said in a teasing tone.
The boy froze instantly, face darkening. His lips trembled like he wanted to curse but decided to hold it in.
"You—" was all he managed to say.
Al couldn't hold back a laugh. "Haha! Sorry, sorry! I'm kidding. Anyway, that means I should head home on time. Then, I'll be going now."
Before his classmate could respond, Al snatched his stuff, pushed back his chair, and bolted out of the room like a man being chased by debt collectors.
The boy just stood there, dumbfounded. Then, realizing the coast was clear, he sighed and started packing up too.
"What a freak…" he muttered under his breath.
He then walked toward the door, but—
WHOOSH!
Al's head suddenly popped out from behind the doorframe.
"Thanks, bro!"
"WAAAHHHH!!" the boy screamed, jumping back and falling flat on the floor.
"Ah—dammit! You scared the hell out of me!" he shouted, glaring furiously.
Al looked genuinely sorry… or maybe just trying hard not to laugh. Covering his mouth, he waved apologetically. "Haha. My bad! See you tomorrow!"
Then he disappeared down the hallway.
The boy just sat there, seething. "Damn weirdo! F*** *** ****—!"
(And no, the narrator decided not to repeat the rest of those words.)
---
Meanwhile, at the very top of a tall building not far from the Hazandeen International High School complex.
Two figures stood silently, gazing down upon the bustling city of Makazhar that was beginning to grow lively again as the late afternoon unfolded.
Both of them wore dark brownish cloaks with deep hoods pulled low, their faces concealed beneath heavy shadows.
The evening wind blew strongly across the rooftop, tugging at the edges of their cloaks and making the fabric whip in the air, giving an even more mysterious impression to their presence.
One of the figures seemed to freeze in place, caught off guard the moment his eyes fell upon Al, who had just stepped out from the school gates.
Hidden beneath the hood, his eyes widened slightly, and his breathing hitched for the briefest second.
"What is it?" the other figure asked, noticing how his companion's attention was locked entirely on Al.
"That boy…?" the figure murmured, his low voice carrying a faint tremor, as if suppressing an emotion he did not want to show.
"Hmm." The other one shifted her gaze toward Al as well. "Do you know that boy?" she asked, her tone laced with a hint of puzzlement.
After staring intently for a moment, the first figure slowly shook his head.
"No. I only thought he looked familiar. But perhaps I was mistaken," he replied calmly.
"I didn't know you had the habit of rambling on a bright day like this. Haha." The other spoke with a mocking undertone as she pulled back her hood. Her laugh was light, but her eyes were sharp, scrutinizing. "Still, that kid is kind of cute."
Revealed beneath the hood was the face of a woman who appeared mature, her long hair cascading down in strands of black and silver.
A dark line marked her right cheek, stretching from beneath her eye all the way down to her chin. Her sharp gaze carried weight, yet the faint smile curving her lips made her appear all the more dangerous.
"Stop joking around. Our mission matters far more than toying with some useless boy," the other figure said sternly as he removed his hood as well.
His face was that of a grown man with medium-length hair, colored with shades of dark brown and black. Two black lines extended from beneath his right eye down to his chin. His expression was rigid, like stone carved without the slightest hint of laughter.
"Relax. Relax. Those artifacts aren't going anywhere. We'll find them sooner or later," the woman replied in a playful tone, folding her arms across her chest while casting a casual glance at the sprawling city below.
"Be serious!" the man barked, his voice echoing sharply, filling the rooftop with a sudden silence.
"Ugh… you really can't take a single joke, can you?" the woman complained, pulling out a white talisman inscribed with ancient runes from within her cloak.
Her fingers were delicate, but her movements were swift and precise, the kind of motion that could only come from long practice with such rituals.
Their eyes met, and in that fleeting moment, they seemed to understand each other perfectly—sparks of silent comprehension flashing in their gaze.
"Sir Fahruk will handle this area. Our next target is…" the man said as he revealed a similar white talisman. He stared at it with an expression as though he were looking at a map leading straight into hell. "…that place."
Then—
WOSHHHH!
A surge of thick black smoke erupted from the talisman, dense yet cutting, enveloping them both. The smoke twisted violently, swirling into a vortex like the jaws of darkness ready to devour everything in its path. Within its rotation, faint whispers echoed—like the fragmented cries of a thousand restless souls.
The two figures exchanged faint smiles as they pulled their hoods back on. The smoke swallowed their bodies completely, and in the next instant, they were gone.
Only a torn fragment of the talisman, nearly burned to ashes, was left behind. The piece drifted slowly through the air, carried away by the evening wind, as though it were the sole silent witness to their departure.
---
Even though he'd tried to head home early, Al still chose to walk leisurely along the sidewalk, letting the cool afternoon breeze brush against his face. He glanced left and right, admiring the faint orange sky stretching over the city.
His steps were slow—almost as if his mind wandered farther than his feet ever could. Thoughts lingered on how he should blend into his new family… or rather, the real family he had just found.
"Even if it's a bit chilly, this evening breeze feels nice. It's rare it doesn't rain these days," he murmured, closing his eyes for a moment. "Weather like this is perfect for being lazy. Hehe."
He smiled faintly.
"I guess going home late isn't that big of a deal. The dry season's coming soon anyway. Enjoying nature is way better than dealing with family drama."
And with that, he kept strolling down the pavement, unconcerned about being scolded or seen as 'late'—just as his friend had warned earlier.
There was a quiet solemnity to his walk, even with the city noise and pollution around him. It didn't stop him from sinking into his thoughts.
My family, huh... they're weird. Truly weird. Full of drama. Not the kind of people someone like me could ever fit in with. Hmph... After living what felt like thousands of years, I never imagined I'd end up having parents and siblings, he muttered in his mind.
But it wasn't nearly as exciting as the way orphans in novels usually imagined it. Maybe because Mother Angelia and the kids at the orphanage had already filled that gap—already given me what 'family' meant. So I didn't expect much from my so-called real one.
A faint, bitter smile crossed his lips.
And after finally meeting them… the ones who should've been my blood family—it honestly feels like I'd be better off staying at the orphanage forever. They're nothing like what I thought family would be.
He sighed deeply.
"Huff... Still, they're my blood, whether I like it or not. There's no point rejecting that fact. Everything's still new… it's only the beginning. I guess it's normal to feel uncomfortable."
His tone softened, more to himself than anyone else.
"But really, they're not that bad—just… annoying. Hehe."
He clenched his fist tightly, his eyes firm as he gazed up at the fading sky.
And now… I've got a mission to carry out there. Too many mysteries waiting… including that boy. For some reason, I couldn't see him from the inside. That alone bothers me.
His expression darkened slightly, but he kept walking, letting his mind run.
Because in the end, life wasn't just about conflict, or running away, or revenge. Sometimes, it was about facing things with patience—and holding onto a clear goal.
Maybe good things simply took time to reveal themselves.
But when that time and chance ran out, and nothing changed—or only got worse—that's when it's time to walk away.
His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a faint sound.
"Meoooww... Meow..."
A kitten's cry.
It came from somewhere nearby, though he couldn't tell where.
Plenty of people heard it too, yet no one bothered to look.
To most, a stray animal was just a nuisance, not worth a second glance.
But Al—someone who hated troublesome things—was the one who stepped in.
His eyes flickered faintly, a crimson glow flashing for a brief second as he scanned his surroundings.
He could sense a faint trace of energy hidden somewhere near the large roadside drain.
There! Its energy is fading... It'll die if I don't help it soon, he thought.
But he couldn't use magic openly in public—it would cause a scene.
So, Al crouched down, opened the drain cover with raw strength, squeezed himself halfway in, and managed to reach a tiny, trembling kitten—dirty and soaked.
Filthy water splashed onto his clothes, soaking him completely. His face was stained, and that unmistakable sewer stench began to cling to him.
Ugh... smells awful... I'll clean up with magic later in a quiet place, he muttered mentally.
He sat at the edge of the sidewalk, drying the kitten with his already-soiled uniform. His expression was bored and a bit indifferent, even as passing pedestrians gave him strange, disgusted looks.
"They're good people, really," he said quietly, as if comforting the kitten—but actually trying to calm his own embarrassment.
Suddenly, a soft voice spoke behind him.
"You're a kind one, aren't you?"
Al turned.
A young woman was standing there, smiling warmly.
She looked about twenty-ish, with long brown hair tied in an elegant braid, wearing a stylish blazer. Her beauty was the classy, cover-model type—undeniably A-tier.
"It's rare these days to see someone willing to get that dirty just to help a small animal," she said, clearly impressed.
Al stayed silent, still drying the kitten—and subtly infusing it with a bit of healing energy.
A faint crimson flicker flashed across Al's eyes as he observed the woman before him—just long enough to catch something unusual.
A magic user… Novice level. Not bad, he noted silently.
Before he could take a closer look, the woman suddenly spoke up.
"Oii, why are you staring at me like that, Huh?." Her voice startled him out of his thoughts. "Oh right, my name's Clara. And you are?"
Al blinked, rubbing his forehead lightly.
"Ah, that. I just thought you looked familiar. I'm Al."
"Oh, really? I thought you were mesmerized by me or something," Clara teased with a playful grin.
"Uh, sis… I'm seventeen." Al sighed.
Clara tilted her head, finally taking a good look at him—black hoodie, gray pants, and a white shirt in hand. Yeah, definitely still a high schooler.
"Oh shoot, haha! Sorry, sorry. Big sis was just kidding." She scratched her cheek awkwardly.
Al only sighed, ignoring the awkward exchange, before holding out the kitten in his arms.
"Anyway… consider this my forgiveness fee. Can you take it to a pet care center or animal rescue? I'm kind of in a hurry," he said casually.
Clara blinked, realizing he'd just turned her slip-up into a task—but it wasn't exactly unreasonable.
"Sure, I can. But… what's the rush?" she asked curiously.
"Hm… how should I explain this…" Al pondered for a second, then snapped his fingers. "Oh! I'm from a rich family. And my friend said rich kids get in trouble if they come home late."
Clara stepped back slightly, giving him a look from head to toe. His face was smudged, his clothes dirty, and he smelled faintly like a sewer.
Then she burst into laughter. "Hahaha! You're calling yourself a rich kid looking like that?"
Al frowned. "Do I look poor to you?"
Clara shook her head while taking the kitten from his hands.
"Haha, no, no. Sorry about that. Oh, and since I'm heading out anyway, why don't I drop you off? I can take the kitten to the pet center on the way. Where do you live?"
It was a reasonable offer—but Al politely declined. He'd rather find a quiet place to clean himself first. And though he knew Clara had magical energy, he had no intention of revealing that.
"Ah… no need, sis. I'm dirty anyway," he said politely, already getting up to leave.
But before he could make his escape—
Clara grabbed his wrist and pulled him toward her car.
"It's fine. Just come along."
Honestly, she hesitated a little—the smell wasn't exactly pleasant—but there was something sincere in the boy's eyes. Something that made it impossible to just leave him there.
Instinctively, Al tried to pull away.
"Sis! I'm still a minor, okay?! Please don't—" he said in a ambiguous tone that made nearby passersby instantly look.
Clara froze, quickly letting go with both hands raised. "No, no, don't think like that! I just wanted to help you, Al!" she said, panicked.
A few people around them began whispering, some even looking ready to step in.
Clara's elegant appearance versus Al's muddy state made for a confusing picture.
To some, it looked like a kidnapping attempt.
Both Al and Clara realized the situation was about to spiral into something very troublesome.
Feeling a bit sorry for her, Al decided to make sure she wasn't actually dangerous. His eyes faintly glowed again, scanning her aura.
Her energy was calm—steady and clean. No ripple, no distortion. That meant one thing—she was honest. No ill intent.
But something did catch his eye.
Amid the natural flow of energy inside her, there was a small glowing green core—right at the center of her chest.
That light… green energy? What is that? I've never seen something like it before, he thought, narrowing his eyes slightly.
Still, with people watching, he decided to smooth things over.
He laughed lightly, waving his hands. "Sorry, sorry! We're siblings, just fooling around! haha."
Clara quickly caught on and nodded, awkwardly playing along.
"Haha. Yes, yes."
The onlookers eventually dispersed, and both of them sighed in relief as they got into the car.
"You really almost got us into trouble," Clara muttered.
"Well, you're the one who suddenly grabbed me. Sorry, sis," Al replied casually.
Clara exhaled and motioned to her driver to start the car.
The vehicle rolled forward, leaving behind the small crowd and the awkward misunderstanding.
---
Inside the car, Al sat beside Clara, trying not to make eye contact. He briefly considered using a cleansing spell—but with her sitting so close, he thought better of it.
The air inside was filled with silence and mild awkwardness, both still recovering from almost becoming the day's gossip headline.
Eventually, the car entered a luxurious residential district—the Virellano family estate.
Clara's eyes widened slightly as she looked out the window, surprised at the area they were driving into.
Wait... Isn't this the Virellano estate? Isn't their son named David Virellano? Is Al lying? But why would he lie? Maybe he's a servant's kid? But... that uniform is from Hazandeen Academy. Could he be adopted? Hmm... Her mind raced with suspicion.
"That gate up ahead, ma'am," Al said, pointing to the front gate.
Clara stared at him silently.
The sleek black car rolled to a slow stop before the grand, European-style entrance.
Al stepped out first, standing awkwardly on the sidewalk, giving her a small nod.
"Thanks, Miss Clara."
Clara leaned forward from the window, still smiling.
"Go on in first. Then I'll leave."
Al raised an eyebrow.
"Huh? Why? You can go ahead."
Clara answered gently,
"I just want to make sure you get in safe. I'm older than you, so it's only natural for me to check."
Al grinned stiffly.
"Sorry, but it feels rude to leave a guest waiting at the gate. Let's be fair—I'll wait for you to go first."
And so, a light standoff began.
"But—"
"But you see—"
"Go inside."
"You leave first."
"Go in."
"Meowww."
"....."
The two went back and forth. Clara was half-irritated, Al was half-lazy.
At last—
"Huff, fine! I'll go in!" Al huffed, half-frustrated.
He trudged slowly down the stone path cutting through the beautiful garden toward the main Virellano house. But the whole time, he kept glancing back.
Every few steps, he turned and waved—awkward and stiff. Like a kindergartener being dropped off at school.
Clara smiled. Then chuckled softly to herself, nodding in quiet amusement as she confirmed the truth.
"He really does live here..." she whispered.
"I don't know what his connection to the Virellano family is... but one thing's certain—he's an interesting kid."
Her car slowly rolled away from the gate.
Little did Al know...
The final step he took that day would mark the beginning of a brand new chaos.
---