Al strolled casually along the sidewalks of Makazhar City, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie.
Though he didn't know every turn or alley in this part of town, he could still feel the lines of magical energy woven into the streets.
Every building, pedestrian—even the birds perched on power lines—left traces of their own magical presence.
But one stood out.
Since stepping out of the house, he had sensed a faint aura following him.
The distance remained consistent, the steps were silent, and more importantly—there was no killing intent.
It was the same aura as the ones who had been tailing him last night.
Spy? A professional this time? Al thought with faint irritation.
Hmph... by the way, it's already been over two years since the WMA (World Magic Association) last kept a close eye on me.
Yeah... I only need to endure another five years to completely secure my standing in their eyes.
Al slowed his pace.
"Huff… another pain to deal with," he muttered under his breath, slightly annoyed.
He sharpened his senses—visual, olfactory, and especially… magical resonance.
The person was standing two buildings behind him, on the rooftop of an electronics store. They weren't approaching—just watching.
Their aura felt similar to the ones who had been observing him from the trees before.
Yeah... definitely someone from the family. Maybe one of Father's men keeping tabs on me.
Another one whose true essence I can't see through...
Just... what are they? Human? Or some other kind of entity?
The Virellano family is hiding something far bigger and more mysterious than I thought.
Since there was no certainty and no threat intent, Al had no reason to obliterate or spook the stalker. Still, being watched rubbed him the wrong way.
A small smile curved on his lips. He moved two fingers inside his hoodie pocket, tracing a faint sigil before casting a minor spell.
(Dark) Basic Magic: Perspective Manipulation
A subtle, small magic circle appeared at his fingertip—almost invisible. A light illusion spell activated, one so faint most wouldn't even detect it.
It warped perception ever so slightly, cloaking Al from the spy's field of view.
---
Meanwhile, from the rooftop, a figure clad in black with a thin mask watched silently as the target stopped at a traffic light.
Morning traffic was picking up—office workers, students, street vendors—all blending into the crosswalk crowd.
His target, Al, stood there with a blank expression.
The light turned green. Hundreds crossed the street.
Then—Al vanished.
"?!"
The observer leaned forward in shock. The boy was just there—no sound, no blur. Gone.
"Where did he go?!" he hissed.
His eyes darted through the crowd. Nothing.
Panic surged through him.
He jumped down from the rooftop, landing in a narrow alley, then melted into the shadows of nearby storefronts and utility poles.
His body seemed to disappear into the darkness itself.
He scanned a radius of 300 meters, then 500. No trace. No disturbance. No one suspicious. Magic? Impossible. He assumed Al had no magical energy.
Anxiety climbed higher. He racked his brain—considered the nearby school zones, and remembered the nearby international academy. But he shook his head.
"No way… there's no way he could've entered that school. The tuition alone is insane—and look at how he dresses…" he muttered, frustrated.
But reality hit hard. He had lost the target.
Grinding his teeth, he muttered,
"Damn it. If Young Master David hears about this, I'm—"
---
Elsewhere, behind the tall gates of Hazandeen International High School, Al stood with a satisfied smirk.
"Maybe I should file a complaint to Father about this surveillance nonsense. It's way more fun to just vanish from under their noses."
As he sensed the surrounding auras, that man's presence was already far away—frantically searching in the wrong direction.
Stretching his arms, Al looked up at the clear blue sky.
"Well then... time to play the good student."
His steps were light. As if nothing had happened.
The grand gates of black metal and bronze slowly opened as Al walked through. This wasn't just any school.
This was Hazandeen International High School, a place where the elite and brilliant were groomed to be future leaders—not just of Indorosia, but the world.
The school operated directly under the Alasia Indorosia Foundation, a branch of the global Alasia Foundation—
the philanthropic arm of Alasia Group, one of the world's most valuable conglomerates, headquartered in the Uni-Stated of Ameria.
At the main gate, a security guard munching on a sandwich froze mid-bite when he saw Al.
"Huh? Al?"
Al turned, offering a relaxed smile.
"Morning, Mister Security."
The guard set his sandwich down and stood up stiffly.
"You're... not a morning class student, right? What are you doing here this early?"
Al paused. His eyes flicked toward the sky as he scratched his head.
"Uh, well… let's just say I wanted to see the lovely girls who attend the morning classes, haha."
He forced a grin, clearly improvising a poor excuse.
"Nice weather, isn't it? Anyway, I'll be going ahead."
The guard stared at him with a confused—and slightly disturbed—expression, while Al turned around and waved casually, as if he hadn't just said something inappropriate.
---
Inside the school grounds, beyond a small, rarely visited garden shaded by a tall tree, Al stood alone.
He scanned the area, ensuring no eyes were watching. Not even CCTV.
Then, raising his right hand, he spoke in a flat tone:
"Gather."
As if summoned, two men stepped out of thin air—concealed by minor illusions.
They looked young—probably in their twenties or early thirties.
One of them wore a full school security uniform. He had blackish-brown hair, a cheerful face, and a slightly short but robust build, with a name tag that read Michaelis.
The other was dressed in a formal suit, looking like a teacher or academic staff member. He had silver hair and an elegant appearance, yet carried a firm and cool aura, with an ID card bearing the name Sebastian.
They bowed deeply.
"Master," they said in unison.
Al sighed and asked,
"Were you two spying on me again?"
"Apologies, Master. We acted because of a suspicious figure tailing you," Sebastian replied,
"He lost your trail at the crosswalk. He's currently combing the city area. Identity still unknown, but we've seen him lurking since you left your house," Michaelis added.
"He showed no killing intent, but his movements suggest assassin-level training. Possibly a spy," Sebastian continued.
"At first, I thought he might be from the WMA. But he's clearly not. Even though his aura is a little hard to read, he's still too weak. Shall we eliminate him?"
Al shook his head.
"No need. He might be someone sent by my father," Al replied lazily.
"Also—please. You know I hate being watched. Keep your distance. Focus on your jobs here at school."
The two men exchanged glances before looking at Al, unsure whether they should agree or not.
Al gave a crooked smile and waved them off.
"No need to overthink. Just move when I give the word."
They bowed low once again.
"Yes, Master."
"Good," Al let out a relieved sigh. "Oh, right. I happen to have something to ask you," His tone flattened slightly this time.
"What is it, Master?" Sebastian asked.
"Hm... do you two know anything about the data restriction placed on me by the Ministry and the Foundation?" he asked calmly.
"I can understand the Ministry's involvement—it's obviously about the records of the cursed children. But the Foundation?" he added.
"Ah... that..." Michaelis looked awkward. "Forgive us, Master. We haven't had the chance to inform you about that matter."
"Huff... as usual... you people always delay telling me things you don't find important. Haah... So? What's going on this time?" Al sighed in mild annoyance.
Michaelis let out a nervous chuckle, while the other could only lower his head in discomfort.
Sebastian finally spoke up,
"You might've already guessed it, Master."
"Those troublesome girls?" Al asked flatly.
Both men nodded—Michaelis quickly, while Sebastian nodded firmly but with grace.
"Hmph... I figured as much. So, why did they do it?" Al asked, resting his chin on his fingers.
"It seems they wanted to make sure your data stayed safe," Sebastian explained.
"Especially with your sudden return to the Virellano family. They're still not fully convinced everything will go smoothly there."
Al nodded slightly, trying to understand, as the man continued,
"The Virellanos are a massive family, even on an international scale. We still have trouble getting any detailed information about them,"
"We can't really tell what goes on inside, or how they operate behind the scenes. The possibility of your... unique existence being exposed would only increase."
Al processed the explanation for a few seconds before responding,
"Ah, I see. I guess they're just overthinking it. Leaving only my name and physical description in the system... that actually makes me more suspicious. Haah..." he muttered with a helpless sigh.
He then casually glanced at the two men.
"By the way... the latest information about that shaman arrived this morning. You two should already know about it. Have you checked it yet?"
The two nodded.
"I already found some clues... not directly related, but it might be the one we're looking for," Sebastian said.
"Keep going."
"There's a rumor about a shaman who recently became popular among the elite circles. I don't know about the Virellano, but almost every elite figure already seems to have connections with him," Sebastian explained.
Beside him, Michaelis gave a small nod, simply going along with the conversation.
"The problem is..." Sebastian continued, "...the rumors describe the shaman as an old man. Or at least middle-aged. Completely different from the person we're searching for."
Michaelis nodded again as if trying to sound convincing.
Al held his chin in thought.
"Weird... but interesting," he muttered. "There's still a possibility. Shape-shifting, illusion magic, or maybe the use of a puppet..."
He paused briefly before speaking again.
"Anyway... just keep monitoring them. In the end, every activity related to all the shamans in this city must remain under our surveillance."
The two lowered their heads, silently accepting the order.
"Alright then. If that's the case, you can both return to your duties," Al concluded.
Both men gave light nods before taking their leave.
Like mist carried away by the wind, the two vanished without a sound, leaving behind neither a trace nor even the faintest lingering aura.
Al stood still for a moment, staring at the spot they'd just occupied.
He exhaled slowly, as if carrying the weight of the world in that single breath.
"Huaam... Mornings are way too much trouble for me."
He turned and walked toward the school building.
But just as he took a step—
GRAAARR—GRAAARR!!
Al's phone exploded with its thunderous ringtone, like a fire alarm piercing the peaceful morning.
"Oh, what a coincidence. We were just talking about them," Al murmured casually. "And one of them just called."
But his expression darkened almost instantly.
"Hmm... why do I have a bad feeling about this? Should I even answer it?"
After thinking for a moment, Al finally picked up the phone. His hand trembled slightly, and his usually composed face looked a shade paler than usual.
"...Hello?"
He barely spoke when—
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'LOOKING AT LOVELY GIRLS'?! DO YOU WANT ME TO CUT YOUR HEAD OFF?! SHOULD I—"
Click.
The ever-calm Al flinched like a kid caught cheating on a test. He immediately hung up and turned off his phone.
Silence.
He froze, then rubbed his forehead and sighed heavily.
"Huff... I knew it. Answering that call was a mistake. She really... almost gave me a heart attack..."
Not long after, his face returned to normal—mostly—but a small trace of trauma remained as he walked away toward the cafeteria.
---
Elsewhere, inside a hyper-modern office tower, floor-to-ceiling windows revealed a breathtaking view of the city under the midnight sky.
A towering skyscraper stood nearby, its sharp silhouette cutting into the skyline.
A woman stood quietly by the glass.
Her long hair flowed down her back like a battle banner, her posture regal—like a queen who ruled the battlefield.
Her face remained hidden in shadow, her back turned to the camera.
Only the silhouette of her slender figure, wrapped in a violet dress, could be seen.
A faint pulse of dark magical energy radiated from her presence, enough to make even overtime staff who happened to pass by her office door feel a chill of fear.
Any trace of drowsiness vanished instantly, replaced by a sudden surge of adrenaline that snapped them wide awake.
The woman's hand clenched her now-silent phone.
"He... Hung up... on me?!"
Her voice shook the ceiling lamp. She turned—revealing only a chilling smile.
"Just wait, Al. When I show up... I'll make sure... you won't even look at another girl again."
Not long after, the sadistic look on her face softened into a blooming smile.
She reached for a sleek, high-tech tablet on the table beside her and activated it.
"Fortunately, I still have this. Haha... You can't escape my sight," she said, sounding almost gleeful.
On the screen appeared a live feed of Al at school—walking lazily down the hallway, his usual bored expression painted perfectly across his face.
The woman couldn't help but giggle at the sight.
---
Back at school, along the corridor leading to the cafeteria, Al's steps were unhurried yet calm.
His eyes looked slightly drowsy, as usual. His only goal now was simple: a sweet snack and a soft cafeteria chair for a quick nap.
But he suddenly stopped. His gaze turned distant, scanning the area. Something felt... off. Almost unnaturally so.
He activated his magical detection for a brief moment, yet sensed nothing unusual.
"Was it just my imagination?" he murmured.
Deciding not to dwell on it, he resumed walking. There was still plenty of time before his afternoon class. And right now, morning naps were his ultimate dream.
But fate had other plans.
Three silhouettes stood at the end of the hallway, blocking his path.
They wore full school uniforms, modified for swagger: loose ties, jackets draped over shoulders, and shiny limited-edition shoes.
The first—massive, nearly two meters tall. Thick with muscle and fat. His arms were crossed, his face blank. The team's silent enforcer.
The second—tall and thin, glasses, with a sneering grin. His lips never stopped moving, and his eyes flicked around nervously. The schemer—not smart, but cowardly and sly.
The third—their leader. Rudi Norvalien, third-generation heir of the Norvalien family, one of the top ten richest in Indorosia.
Handsome face, slicked-back hair, flawless skin—like a fashion ad. But his eyes were full of disgust as he looked at Al. He believed only the elite should mingle with the elite.
To him, Al's very presence was a stain on his ideal perfect world. His hands were in his pockets, body slouched lazily—like Al wasn't even worth his energy.
He spoke first.
"Well, well… I thought you only crawled out at night. Didn't expect to see you this early."
The thin one chuckled.
"Maybe he's hungry. Orphan kids drool over expensive food, after all. Hahaha."
The big one simply glared like a hungry tiger waiting for a command.
Al stopped. Gave them a blank stare. Said nothing.
"You think that cheap scholarship makes you equal to us?" Rudi's voice sharpened. "You're a stain. The only reason you're here is because we're too kind to kick you out."
Al looked at them and almost rolled his eyes, but simply shook his head instead.
This isn't even a Huaxia story... and people like this still exist. He sighed inwardly.
Then, out of nowhere, he reached into his pocket—somehow pulling out a slip of paper and a pen as if by magic.
He scribbled something down and handed it to the three in front of him.
The skinny one took it, and the others leaned in to see what was written.
It was Al's signature—followed by a short motivational line underneath: "If they can do it, why should I?"
The three stared blankly at the absurd sight. Rudi snatched the paper, tore it to pieces, and threw it to the ground in anger.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean, huh?!" he shouted.
"Hm? I thought you guys were fans of mine," Al replied casually. "So I gave you an autograph. Isn't that what fans usually want?"
"Huh?! Are you drunk or something? Who the hell would be your fan?!" Rudi barked back, his face flushing red.
"Huh? Then why are you crowding around me?" Al tilted his head lazily. "Your class should be starting soon, yet you'd rather come see me."
The three froze, speechless, their bodies instinctively leaning back with mouths slightly agape.
"Woah... you guys really went through a lot just to see me. Skipping class... yeah, that's some serious dedication," Al added dramatically while covering his mouth.
"Tch!" Rudi spat on the ground. "Keep dreaming! I think there's something wrong with your brain! You seriously don't get that we hate you?!"
Al just smiled faintly, almost pitying.
"You guys really don't know how to take a joke," he said, stretching his arms slightly.
"Whatever. If you don't like me, then stop bothering me. Go do something productive instead."
He turned away, clearly done with the conversation.
The trio looked furious, but Al simply walked on, ignoring their glares as if they were background noise.
"Hey! What did you just say?!"
The big one stepped forward, his massive hand swinging toward Al's shoulder—
—but—
Whoosh!
In less than a heartbeat, Al's figure blurred. His body seemed to vanish from where he stood, reappearing two steps ahead.
The large man, unable to stop his own momentum, slipped and crashed straight into a trash bin.
BANG!
"Arghhhh!" he howled in pain.
The other two froze in shock.
Al turned slightly, glancing back with a calm, almost bored expression.
"I think you should go on a diet. Your balance is awful," he said dryly, before turning away again.
But Rudi stepped forward, blocking his path.
"You bastard!" he screamed, rage filling his eyes as he clenched his fist tightly, ready to strike—
—but before he could throw the punch—
His eyes met Al's.
The moment their gazes locked, Rudi froze. His instincts screamed at him not to move recklessly.
Al's expression darkened.
"I had no intention of dealing with you people. But it seems you insist," he said coldly.
He began walking forward slowly, causing Rudi to shiver for some reason as he unconsciously stepped back little by little, matching Al's pace.
"Do you know that... disturbing someone's morning sleep schedule... is a fatal mistake?" Al asked irritably as a dark aura slowly seeped out from his body.
"Y-You... don't come any closer—"
Rudi and his remaining lackey exchanged glances. Neither of them understood where the fear was coming from, but both could feel it clearly.
Their confidence was gone.
The two could only keep retreating little by little until, without realizing it, their backs had already hit the wall.
Rudi still had some courage left. He quickly glanced around.
A few students were watching—but they were all weaklings. No teachers. No security.
His own fault for choosing such a secluded place to bully someone. Not a single person there looked reliable.
His mind raced frantically.
Should he use his family name to threaten Al?
Or bribe someone to step in and buy him time to escape? They wouldn't be useful in a fight, but maybe they could at least create a distraction.
But before he could act on any of those thoughts, Al's hand was already gripping his shoulder.
The grip wasn't even tight. Just enough.
Yet Rudi felt a strange pain spread through his body, leaving him completely unable to move.
His shoulder felt as though it had been locked inside iron shackles.
Rudi instinctively glanced to the side, looking for his lackey... only to see something disgusting.
The skinny lackey had already collapsed onto the ground without even being touched. His face was pale with terror.
And beneath him… something dark and wet was spreading.
Rudi snapped his head back toward Al, forcing himself to act tough.
"H-Hey, orphan… what do you think you're doing?" he barked, though his voice trembled slightly. "Do you even know who I am?"
Rudi's expression twisted.
"Let go!"
Al leaned even closer.
"I don't care who you are or what kind of background you have," Al replied flatly.
His voice dropping to a calm whisper.
"Just remember this. Next time you corner someone… make sure you can handle the consequences."
Rudi felt something suffocating. An overwhelming pressure. As if he were standing before something far more dangerous than he had imagined.
Then—
"Enough!"
A calm but firm voice echoed through the corridor.
Footsteps approached.
A student stepped into view.
Idham Tamarvich.
Black hair slicked neatly back. Perfect posture. His uniform was immaculate, not a single wrinkle in sight. A gold-and-white school badge gleamed proudly on his chest.
A direct descendant of the Tamarvich family—one of the top ten families in Indorosia.
His very existence was the reason Rudi couldn't freely dominate HIHS just by throwing around his family name.
He, Rudi, and David were known as the Three Princes of Makazhar City—born in the same generation from the three most powerful families in East Indorosia.
His calm gaze swept across the chaotic scene.
"Rudi. Causing trouble again?" he said, sounding genuinely fed up, as if this wasn't the first time.
"Violence on school grounds," Idham added evenly, "is against regulation."
Rudi looked visibly relieved at Idham's arrival. Normally, Idham's presence only annoyed him—after all, he was the main reason Rudi's bullying schemes often failed.
But this time? He felt like a savior had just descended from the heavens.
Unfortunately, Idham's words still cut into him.
"Hey! Are you blind!? No matter how you look at it, I'm the victim here!" Rudi protested.
Idham, who didn't fully understand the situation yet, carefully examined the scene before him.
And he was slightly surprised by what he saw.
Al—the scholarship orphan student—was gripping Rudi's shoulder firmly.
Rudi's two lackeys looked pitiful. One was sitting on the ground in a puddle of his own urine, his face pale with fear. The other was lying on the floor.
Idham knew of Al.
But only as that lucky street kid who somehow managed to get into HIHS. There was nothing particularly special about him—aside from the rumors about his excessive laziness.
So naturally, Idham was skeptical that Al could've done all this.
Yet reality stood right in front of him. And this situation needed to be handled first.
He turned to Al.
"You Al right? Was this your doing?" he asked, glancing at Rudi's restrained shoulder. "And… please let go of Rudi. That kind of behavior isn't appropriate."
Al gave him a lazy glance and chose not to continue. He knew that dealing with Idham usually meant long, exhausting formalities.
"Huff… alright," he muttered at Rudi.
Reluctantly—and with a tiny, subtle trick—he released Rudi's shoulder.
The moment Rudi felt free, relief washed over him.
But before he could even process it—
A strange force sent him fell hard onto the floor, landing squarely on his butt.
"Ow—!" Rudi groaned in pain.
"Ouch… not my fault," Al commented casually. "I already let you go. You were just too excited."
Rudi glared at him with burning rage—
But he hesitated. Now wasn't the time to confront him again.
Meanwhile, Idham simply shook his head and stepped closer.
"You two," Idham said calmly. "If you have disputes, settle them properly. Don't act like barbarians—especially in a school of this caliber. We are raised as elites, not common thugs."
Al nodded nonchalantly.
Rudi could only curse inwardly and look away while pushing himself up.
"I'll have the disciplinary team investigate this. But class is about to start. End this now and return to your classrooms," Idham concluded.
Humiliated, Rudi didn't even bother checking on his useless subordinates. He turned and walked off first.
"Tch. Don't lecture me, Tamarvich," he spat, venting a bit of his frustration as he left.
Idham didn't respond. He was used to it. The silence itself was an answer.
After a few seconds, Rudi stopped at a distance he deemed safe enough to threaten Al.
"And you, orphan. This isn't over," he shouted coldly—before quickly hurrying away.
Al let out a small chuckle at the sight of him fleeing and simply shook his head.
Before long, the area finally cleared.
Only Al and Idham remained, standing a few meters apart.
Al briefly explained what had happened—from his version of events.
Idham listened, nodding slightly. He would verify it later.
Their eyes met. Neither smiled. Neither spoke for several seconds.
Then Idham gave a small nod.
"Thank you for cooperating. And for not escalating the matter."
Al returned a light nod. He wasn't close enough to Idham to bother with extra politeness.
"Sure."
Then he turned around.
"I still have a nap waiting for me. So I'll head off."
"Nap?" Idham muttered, confused.
Al nodded. "Yup. I'm in the afternoon class, you know. I just happened to come early today and had too much free time."
"I see," Idham replied. Then he added quickly, "By the way, you don't need to worry. As for the Norvalien family—if Rudi tries to use his family name against you, just contact me. I'll handle it."
Al nodded once more. "It's fine. Even if he and his entire family come at me together, I can deal with it."
Then he turned and walked away as if nothing had happened.
Idham was slightly surprised—and faintly irritated—by that blatant arrogance.
He said nothing, but his jaw tightened subtly.
He hadn't expected an orphaned scholarship student to carry himself with such confidence.
A moment later, Al stopped mid-step.
He turned back with a small smile.
"By the way… thank you."
Then he continued walking, hands in his pockets, disappearing down the corridor like the whole incident had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience.
Idham remained standing there, watching Al's back disappear down the corridor.
He didn't stay there for long either and soon turned to walk away.
His jaw tightened faintly.
"…Troublesome," he muttered under his breath.
But whether that word carried disdain—
—or caution—
No one could tell.