When Mozo woke up, he did something unusual—he didn't head to campus for his usual study session. Instead, he stayed in his apartment, quietly mapping out his future.
Now that the supernatural world had proven to be real, there was no way he could ignore it. And if he chose not to turn away, then certain paths were immediately off-limits.
First, the enemy sequences had to be ruled out. Most of them were tied to dark gods—danger and madness incarnate.
At lower levels, he might go unnoticed, but the higher he climbed, the more it would feel like tying himself up and delivering himself to the slaughter.
Unless… those few who had been exiled?
No. Still too risky. Anything related to dark gods was best avoided. Mozo had no desire to spend his days battling insanity and whispers.
By the same logic, the goddesses' paths weren't ideal either. Though, unlike the enemy factions, their sequences might still be survivable at the lower and mid tiers—if he had no better choice.
But once he reached the higher levels? He'd probably be dragged into a divine kingdom and torn apart the moment he advanced.
On second thought, he might not even make it that far—he could be discovered while preparing the potion.
…Wait. Maybe he could survive under a gentler goddess? Blend in, keep his head down, avoid drawing attention?
It sounded plausible. But the more he thought about it, the more it felt like putting his life entirely in someone else's hands.
Not worth it.
With that, Mozo crossed out another tempting option.
One by one, he eliminated the known divine paths. Eventually, staring at the mess of crossed-out notes, he realized there was only one route left.
A brand-new path to godhood.
After the Great Rebellion, fragments of uniqueness had scattered from the Primordial. Many remained unclaimed—more than enough, at least from what Mozo remembered.
Still, he wasn't keen on this approach. It was far too conspicuous.
But he had climbed too high in his dreams. Every known sequence already had powerful figures he had, at some point, provoked.
At this thought, Mozo rubbed his temples with a groan.
If I'd known it would come to this…
At least there was one consolation: thanks to his dream-world experiences, he knew of a complete, untouched path—one no one had yet claimed.
Back when he still believed those dreams might be real, he had prepared it as a backup plan.
The problem? In reality, he had never found any trace of it. No materials, no phenomena—nothing remotely connected to that sequence.
But now… maybe that would change.
His thoughts turned to the gathering tonight. If he was lucky, he might find the materials needed to brew his advancement potion.
Just then, there was a knock at the door.
Opening it, he found his landlord—a refined-looking middle-aged man—standing outside with a hint of concern.
"Ah, lad. You're usually out early for your studies. When I didn't see you all morning, I was worried something might've happened."
He gave Mozo a quick once-over, then relaxed.
"But you seem fine. Sorry for the disturbance."
With that, he turned to leave.
Only then did Mozo realize he had spent the entire morning in his room.
After thanking him, Mozo walked the landlord downstairs before heading back up. He tidied up briefly, said another word of thanks, and finally set off for the university.
---
At school, Mozo quickly noticed something was off.
The usual anonymity he enjoyed was gone. Everywhere he went, people were sneaking glances at him, whispering among themselves.
So much for yesterday's efforts.
Apparently, Audrey's involvement had made him far more interesting than he'd like.
Honestly, he was baffled. In a world without phones or the internet, how did gossip spread this fast?
Was it because people had nothing better to do?
Seriously—weren't these supposed to be students of Cromwell University? How were they going to build a great empire like this?
Thankfully, things hadn't escalated into anything worse. No brainless noble bullies like in cheap light novels, no pickup-driving jocks from campus dramas.
At least not yet.
And in the library, things went smoothly. He met Audrey, received the confirmation he needed—
Tonight, he would attend a gathering of supernatural practitioners.
---
Following the plan they'd agreed on, Mozo left campus near dusk and headed to the commercial district.
After weaving through the crowds for quite some time, he slipped into one of the safe spots Audrey had prepared.
Only after nightfall did he change clothes and make his way toward Locke Park.
There, at the third bench in the tulip section, he found Audrey—also in disguise.
As they met, Mozo recalled someone from earlier and asked:
"Do you have any way to prevent mystical tracking?"
He didn't think that guy was an official agent, but caution never hurt.
Audrey waved it off casually.
"No need to worry. The organizer sets up protections in certain areas—things that block both physical and mystical tracking."
"Otherwise, how do you think we've stayed safe this long?"
Mozo nodded, reassured.
"That's good."
Audrey agreed—but added:
"Of course, it's not free. After every gathering, you have to pay fifty gold pounds."
Mozo felt his heart twist.
He'd only just tasted wealth, and now half of it was about to vanish overnight?
Still… paying for safety made sense.
Even so—fifty gold pounds!
That was enough black bread to fill an entire carriage!
Painful as it was, Mozo couldn't deny his excitement for the night ahead. Following Audrey, he moved through the quieter parts of Sol City.
In the end, she led him to a tavern on the edge of the old district.