eBay Merchandise Supplier

The rest of the news article had little events of importance—though it did allude to a potential Realm-wide summit, it was only a logical assumption rather than a report.

Mark had obtained an extra uniform from the school, ensuring that he no longer walked around covered in blood and ash.

Overall, tensions were high for Kaedom, and especially high for Humanity, who had lived in relative peace for the past 700 or so years.

The empty school was even worse off, with workers rebuilding demolished structures; even a few bodies of missing students had emerged from under the rubble.

He looked far into the distance as dozens of workers scrambled around the ruined Middle Boy's Dormitory like ants.

'Shit, where am I gonna live now that my dorm burned down?'

Mark wasn't even supposed to be on campus; he was only there due to his meeting with the principal. But now it was time to leave for the big city.

As Mark approached the Kriophorus, he quickly sent a message requesting a meeting with Ranni.

===================

To: Ranni Luikots

Hope you're well after the attack. Can we talk? I'll be in the Glass Tower District soon.

===================

'Hopefully, she answers. I'm basically relying on her for everything that comes next. Though I could do without her help, just would cost me a lot more time and money.'

Maybe Mark should stop thinking of other people as resources—but he wouldn't. He was technically right.

'It isn't like I'm dehumanizing anyone, I treat others with respect. Even the extras! I'm just keeping it real.'

┌─────═━┈┈━═─────┐

*Kolzig-Bondra Kriophorus*

User→ Mark di Abbott (Noble Access)

-Select Destination

► Ember City (RESTRICTED DUE TO TRAFFIC)

► Strata

► Holy City of Olym

► Realm Transfer (ACCESS DENIED)

►…

└─────═━┈┈━═─────┘

'As I thought, the Realm Transfer is closed. I'd probably have to get special documentation from the Union if I wanted to leave right now.'

The capital, Ember City, must have been troubled especially hard by the attack, with people and politicians alike scrambling into action.

Some came in for the opportunity, others came out for what that opportunity meant for them and their families—potential disaster.

Shrugging, Mark selected his destination.

┌─────═━┈┈━═─────┐

Destination Confirmed:

► Ember City (NOBLE CLEARANCE BYPASS)

Please step forward.

└─────═━┈┈━═─────┘

The transition from place to place was still as strange as ever. Seamless. Oddly similar to how he entered the Principal's pocket dimension.

As he exited the Ember City Kriophorus, he was immediately bombarded with claustrophobia. Tons of people entered and exited.

A warm bustle in the capital stood in deep contrast to the cold and dry air of Kolzig-Bondra. However, it was not without a lingering anxiety. They still feared what was to come, though nothing more than a simple undertone.

But Mark paid no mind, he was used to crowded cities—and he wasn't particularly frightened by war's prospect. He was going to an Academy that specialized in training warriors. To be fair, fighting Demons was much different from an Excursion.

He thought of the war from his old life. The memory didn't pain him. War had the special ability to desensitize all of the involved.

Mark's thoughts were of his own as he walked along the sidewalks, attempting to hail a carriage. He jingled the coin bag in his pocket as he scanned the street sides.

The entire time he couldn't stop thinking about how uncomfortable he felt, still wearing the Academy uniform. It was as if he was begging for attention, which others definitely caught on to.

Now that he was more accustomed to this world, he was more in tune with the expectations of others. They scowled at such a sight—though during this time of mourning, the sight of an Academy uniform would likely have the opposite effect on onlookers.

'Crap, I gotta go out and buy new clothes all over again. Feels like I'm back at square one. Gotta ask the Luikots Guild for accommodation. Renting would be way too expensive in the capital city, my salary would barely cover it...'

Mark snapped out of his cognitive trance. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a shorter figure remain constant in an ever-changing crowd.

Someone seemed to be observing him.

'More feds? What did I do this time?'

As he turned his head, however, it quickly became clear that it was indeed not a federal agent, but a young boy—around ten or so if he had to guess. The boy's pace quickened.

Mark stopped and turned around, fully facing the child as he approached.

After being noticed, the child hesitated for a moment, but ultimately continued onward, standing right before the Academy student

"Can I help you, kid?" Mark asked.

"Are… are you Mark di Abbott?" the kid stuttered.

'Maybe he is a fed after all. Probably shouldn't have confirmed my identity, he might serve me more court orders…'

"You know me?"

"Yeah, I saw you in the Union Times," the kid nodded, a smile growing on his face. "You're famous! I'm really happy you didn't die in the attack, I've been a fan of you since your duel! Do you know the Prince? Aren't you in his class?"

"Uh, thanks. And yeah, I've met him," Mark replied, though not in confidence. "Anything I can do in particular for you? I'm in a bit of a rush."

"Oh, right," the kid smacked his palm with a closed fist before taking off his hat and a pen. "Sorry if I was a bit insensitive, with the Demonic attack and all, but can I please have your autograph?"

Mark rolled his eyes internally as he complied, careful not to upset the naive child. Giving into his minor demands was the correct option.

In the messiest handwriting possible, Mark applied his signature onto the hat's brim.

"Thank you so much!" the kid bowed before scurrying off.

'Jesus Christ, that kid probably writes better than me.'

But more importantly, the meeting spelled disaster for Mark. If he continued to get famous, William could find him out.

Though this was more paranoid than anything. Mark guessed that William was somewhere hidden in the Demon Realm, and would be out of sight and out of mind.

It wasn't out of the likelihood of possibilities for someone allied with William to feed him information, but still, at least the chances of William noticing him were small—only for now.

'Maybe I should contact Tony to get me out of the news. Wait… does this world have freedom of the press? Can he even do that? Would that even be legal? Damn it all.'

It wasn't the smartest bet to question Tony Russo's capabilities, but expectations should usually be tempered.

A tangential but not entirely consequential series of thoughts—Mark waved them away.

He eventually reached a parked wagon that was eagerly awaiting customers, walking up to the older man who sat at the head.

"Hello sir, I'd like to go to the Glass Tower District."

"Three Silver."

"What? It was two Silver a week ago."

"Prices change all the time," the coachman shrugged.

Rolling his eyes, Mark dropped three Silver into the man's hand. He didn't care much for haggling—his wallet still had plenty of Gold to spare.

But before entering the wagon, he stopped, walking back to the driver.

"I hope this doesn't come off as pretentious, but do you know who I am?" Mark asked, his curiosity genuine.

The older man squinted between his uniform and his face.

"Hmm, I think I've seen your face in the news somewhere. Super… Thrasher? Gah, I don't remember. It was something like that. Too much damn information now that everyone has those magic watches…" the man replied before going off on a technological rant.

Satisfied with the answer, Mark entered the closed carriage.

…

'Fuck! Two whole age demographics know who I am already?! I'm screwed!'