"I forgot about that for a moment," his neighbor said. "Still, ancient families usually hoard powerful old fighting techniques. Gives them an edge most of us will never have."
"Even so," Shun replied, "she can still be taken down by someone whose style is more common than cabbages in the market. In a real hunt, only skill matters. Lineage and rich families be damned."
"Keep your voice down. She might hear you."
Shun snorted. "Doubt it. Our voices are just another drop in the crowd. No matter how sharp her ears are, she won't pick us out." He shrugged. "Unless she actually focuses on us. But we're nothing to her."
"That's fair."
The train began to slow, brakes screeching like tortured metal. When the doors hissed open, passengers spilled out in a rushing stream.
Shun checked the stop, then stepped onto the platform, his neighbor falling in beside him.
The moment they left the station, chaos greeted them. A bulky steel-plated car barreled down the street, three passengers leaning halfway out the windows, firing back at a pursuing police cruiser. Its siren wailed relentlessly. Bullets struck the armored vehicle in bright sparks and sharp clangs.
"Stop the car! I repeat—stop the car!"
"Do it yourself, you fucks!"
The two vehicles roared into the distance, siren fading behind them. The bustling street swallowed the violence as if it had never happened—like a storm that had passed in a single breath.
"Wouldn't be Adapta without that," his neighbor chuckled dryly.
"Right. You just got back two days ago," Shun said. "How was Elven City compared to this madhouse?"
"Green. Peaceful. Total opposite of this place."
Shun shrugged. "This place just like any other city to me."
"Any other city?" His neighbor laughed. "You're kidding, right? Heroes and legends are born in Adapta. Yancha Ronin. Storm Vale. One day I'm going to stand shoulder to shoulder with one of them."
"And how exactly do you plan to do that? Throw books at people?" Shun smirked. "That'll just piss them off more."
"Heh. You underestimate me. There are ways to climb without raw strength, my friend."
"You gonna flirt with every enemy you meet?"
"Of course not. Even more efficient than that."
"Just spit it out."
"Meet the right people. Do business with them."
"Business? Pyramid scheme kind?"
"Hah, I wish!" His neighbor gave an exaggerated laugh, then leaned in closer, voice dropping. "But no, it's something entirely different. I can't go into details yet… but if you're interested, Shun."
He pressed a card into Shun's hand—yellow on one side, black on the other. Shun flipped it over. A code sat on the back. One scan later, his neighbor's contact flowed into his interface.
*I wonder what his name is…* It was embarrassing to admit, but he had never learned it. When they first met, he'd assumed the guy would eventually introduce himself. He never had.
Sure, a deeper scan would reveal it instantly. But for some reason, that felt wrong.
[Ferryman.]
*I can't call him that.*
Whatever business his neighbor was running, it wouldn't hurt to hear him out when he had free time.
Their conversation tapered off as something at the edge of their vision caught both their attention. They stopped.
A man stood on the sidewalk beside a delivery robot, face twisted in rage.
"You stupid clanker! You took my job!" he shouted. "Can't even cross the damn street until someone presses the button for you, huh? Guess what—no one's going to do it! Whoever wants that food can come get it themselves!"
Shun and his neighbor exchanged a glance. The neighbor twirled a finger beside his temple. Shun shook his head, a mocking smile tugging at his lips.
They continued walking, conversation drifting to the most random topics.
Eventually they split toward their respective classes. Shun strolled to his desk with a long, jaw-cracking yawn that carried him from the first row all the way to his seat.
"That was a really long one," one of his close friends said as he approached.
"I started counting," added the guy who had invited him to the party yesterday. "Eight seconds. New record—beat the old seven."
"Don't count it," Shun muttered. He tossed his bag onto the chair. "Oh yeah, Rylan. How was the party yesterday?"
"Mad fun."
As he spoke, a connection request bloomed in Shun's vision. He accepted it. A stream of new contacts immediately flooded his mind.
"As promised, my king," Rylan said, adopting an overly theatrical Victorian tone, "I have gathered the means of communication to many lonely maidens, so you need not die alone."
"Oh my god, this is so useful. You're so thoughtful," Shun replied in perfect deadpan.
"Dude, do you know how much effort I put into this?" Rylan crossed his arms. "Can't I at least get a 'thank you'?"
Shun sighed. "Thank you."
"That's more like it!" Rylan grinned, flashing a perfect row of white teeth, then turned to the other friend. "Edric, that girl Katsumi is looking for you again."
The two launched into a long, animated chatter about the girl. Shun listened quietly, tossing in the occasional one-liner or playful insult.
Soon the classroom door slid open and the teacher entered, launching straight into his lecture.
It was a sleepy affair—until the middle.
"Unlike the six races, humanity is the only one that does not worship specific gods."
At least, the majority of humanity. Small cults and scattered religions still lingered in the corners.
"As the next generation, sooner or later you will have to deal with those six races. Cooperation with them will be vital in our war against the demons."
The teacher's gaze swept the room. "It is also crucial to understand their customs. One wrong word during a deal or a contract can end everything. Unlike us, they hold their traditions and deities in the highest honor. They will not take offense lightly. Even if the god they worship desires the agreement, they will reject it—and often end the matter with the blood of whoever insulted their beliefs."
"So be careful in the future."
The lecture droned on after that, nothing particularly interesting. Shun turned his head toward the window, watching the world outside.
That was when he noticed the chicken.
*How did it escape?*
The school kept a small farm behind the main building. Shun usually tended the animals every few days.
Somehow the chicken had wandered beyond the grounds and was now strutting across the road. Shun found himself strangely invested as its scrawny legs carried it closer and closer to the other side.
Then—
[Do you worship any god, Shun?]
A text message flashed across his vision, completely blocking the view.