Swiper No Swiping

"I have a keen eye and an even keener sense for Mana, but I can barely detect this thing," Everett plucked the tracker, inspecting it close up. "I see… it's a Faith-based Item."

Shortly after being removed, the invisible tracker seemed to vanish—Everett no longer held anything.

"Looks like it has some fail-safes," she muttered. "You should watch yourself. Someone's watching you."

'Watching me? Wait… the letter. Who wrote the letter? Maybe it was Everett and now she's obviously signaling because I'm oblivious? No. The Principal? He works with End. Ugh, I don't have anything conclusive.'

The letter could be left for later—Mark was still deep in thought about the immediate situation. He had reliably pinned the culprit of the tracker.

Ronald Montour. It had to be.

Their brief bump in the hallway was strange—the tracker logically appeared to be the direct result of that encounter. He must have placed the tracker on Mark while they bumped.

'Seems like Ron doesn't like me because he's been sent to spy on me. But by who? Why?'

The tracker was a Faith-based Item. Likely whoever commissioned this espionage was a high-ranking member of a Church.

Or perhaps the choice of trackers was simply to elude the sight of Everett and the rest of the staff, who were more experienced with Arcane than Faith magic. Perhaps both were correct—he had no way of knowing for sure.

'Why would a Church spy on me…?'

The only connections he had with a Church were with the Mother through Ranni and the Luikots Guild. But there was one connection that lingered in the back of his mind.

Abbott. Mark di Abbott.

This 'extra' had belonged to a Church, elevated to Noble status through devotion and service.

The unknown past of the strangely familiar being that he currently inhabited during his transmigration to this world—his ignorance of the extra's past had finally caught up to him.

'What Church did Mark di Abbott belong to? If any Church wanted to spy on me, it was likely them—whoever I had cut contact with.'

However, there had to be much more to the story. The fact that their confrontation was so secretive revealed the existence of a particular set of unknown circumstances.

This was all one large tangential set of assumptions and hunches—though Mark believed most of it to be correct.

His path to confirmation was quite simple and already mentally mapped in his mind; he had two leads.

One was Ranni, the information she held would fill in a lot of gaps.

The other was Ronald Montour himself. Mark was eager to have a nice long chat—violent if need be.

"Scary," Mark joked. "Don't worry, Ms. Everett. Thank you for your help."

"No problem?" Everett replied, though obviously still concerned about a tracker being placed on one of her students with no explanation. "You could report this to the Academy. We can offer you protection."

"That won't be necessary, though I appreciate the gesture. I assure you that it's nothing. Nothing that would require any violence or protection," Mark lied as walked toward the door.

"Whatever you say," she shrugged, leaning back into her chair as Mark left.

…

It had been a day since the attack, which was dubbed 'The 9/11 KB Academy Attack' or just '9/11.'

Mark assumed that this naming process was perpetrated by some evil universal being.

Though in reality the name derived from the Ember Union Prime Minister Samuel Marchment's speech in which he referred to the date directly and as a 'day of infamy,' which Mark could also swear was directly stolen from an American President.

He managed to uncomfortably get some sleep in one of the public areas in Kolzig-Bondra, and it was now early morning.

Mark walked through the empty halls of the Campus' Main Building. A few blemishes stained the walls, yet to be repaired.

The people's wounds had not yet healed. Neither had the Academy for that matter. It was dead for the most part.

'No pun intended.'

Most students after being treated or interviewed went back home to their homes and families. It saddened Mark because he had no family. He was all alone in this world.

He had made a few connections, but nothing extreme. So far, his loneliness hadn't become apparent enough, not until he walked in this desolate and quiet hallway with his thoughts to himself.

VRRRRRR. VRRRRRR…

Mark checked his watch.

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

From: Kolzig-Bondra Academy

The Academy will be going on a three-week break. During this troubling time, please take advantage of our services as we all heal—physically and mentally.

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

'Three weeks? What am I going to do for three weeks?'

Mark wanted to follow up on the favor Ranni owed him, but that would require him to go through Realm Transfer—the Item he desired was in.

'If this attack was anything like 9/11, then I'm never going to get passed the Realm Transfer TSA.'

Grinding Stats wouldn't be that optimal at the moment. He would be better off pursuing his goals and banking on a stimulus package from the big man above than mindless monotony.

'Might as well clock in at the Guild for the cash. I'll talk to Ranni about my background check as well as Montour's.'

Another thing Mark was interested in was combat-oriented. Now without the Hidden Hand, he was seriously outraged.

Skills were out of the picture; he didn't have the slots. However, now that learning Arts was no obstacle, it was in his best interest to aggressively pursue a better Art.

If the Art route didn't work out perfectly, there were still plenty of Items out there. Maybe not entirely, since William had seemingly poached all the good ones from the Human Realm.

That also led back to his main predicament of holding off on obtaining his special Item as leaving the Human Realm wasn't an option he could realistically take.

'What the hell am I even doing with my life? Should I quit like the Principal and give up on this silly quest to kill William? He's practically a God now, and I'm just a stupid schoolboy chump with a one-star Art.'

This notion was too ridiculous to even consider for too many reasons that Mark didn't even bother to go through them.

Instead of fueling his pouting, he took out his watch and began to sift through the news.

One headline read:

Realmwide War on Terror! Marchment Vows to Destroy Underground and the Pagans.

'It seems the Ember Union wants to stabilize the Human Realm before declaring war on the Demons, so they're going after the Pagans.'

The Pagans were the mysterious and powerful figures that facilitated and controlled the Underground—a faction that the Ember Union allowed to exist but now were willing to hemorrhage the resources required to destroy them.

'Also, very funny to call it the War on Terror. Someone high up in Humanity has to be an American transmigrator like me because this is just getting ridiculous.'

Another headline read:

Ember Guild Review: Top 10 Prospects to Look Out For.

When Mark scanned the article, he was surprised—and somewhat irked—to see himself at Number 10.

Mark di Abbott is a real boom-or-bust rookie. From the mysterious power he showed off from his duel with Dawson Reaves Rank 50 which he won with relative ease, it's clear to Guild scouts that he has the potential to make it big…

'What the hell am I, a fucking sports prospect? This whole celebrity system is so odd. And isn't it a bit insensitive to put this out a day after the attack? And what if William sees this? He might be smart enough to sniff something ary…'

His worries never seemed to end.

The article continued:

Kolzig-Bondra will likely be completing an evaluation earlier than usual due to the 9/11 Attack. From there it will be easier to project his outcome and value to top Guilds. Though rumors circulating state that he has already been signed to a Guild—or at least has been in talks with a top-five Guild. Another rumor also suggests an aggressive and childish disdain for interacting with the media and scouts. This rumor has only been compounded by his violent display at the duel, suggesting personality issues. A dark horse candidate.

'Fuck the media.'