The cold water cascaded off Ali's solid, well-defined muscles, splashing onto the floor of the bathroom and quickly disappearing down the drain. The water flowed deep beneath the slums, lost in the city's intricate underground system. With his eyes closed, Ali stood under the stream, letting the icy sensation wash away the lingering tension from his recent mission. Opening his eyes, he glanced at the corner of his interface where a new notification had popped up. 'I'll check it later,' he thought, dismissing it for the moment and focusing on his shower.
Minutes later, Ali stepped out of the bathroom, water still clinging to his skin. Instead of reaching for a towel, he increased his body temperature until the remaining water steamed off, evaporating in seconds. It didn't take long for him to be completely dry. He dressed quickly, pulling on the clothes he had worn during his time in Tokyo Ghoul. They had been fully restored, as though they hadn't been torn apart during the vicious battle with OWL.
Crossing the room, Ali approached a box of rations that sat inconspicuously in the corner. The box had refilled magically during his absence. He pulled out twelve bars, each dense and utterly tasteless, and sat down on the hard bed. As he methodically chewed through the bland food, he opened the interface to check the earlier notification.
"Congratulations on surviving your first mission. Please choose when you wish to start your next World Travel:
1 Day
2 Days
3 Days
4 Days
5 Days
6 Days
1 Week
If the player does not select a time within 10 hours of receiving this alert, they will be automatically assigned to a 1-week period."
Ali barely hesitated before selecting the 1-day option. 'No use wasting time here,' he reasoned. 'I'll head down to the tower. Maybe there's something worth buying.' He continued eating, forcing himself through the remaining rations, the flavor—or lack thereof—making the process more tedious than it needed to be.
Once finished with the bars, he slipped on his boots and grabbed the quinque handle from his bed. As he opened the door to leave his apartment, his mind briefly wandered to the knives he had purchased. 'What happened to those knives? I think I lost them after the big ghoul attacked. I'll have to be more careful with my weapons in the future, or I'll lose them too easily.' With that thought, Ali closed the door behind him and headed toward the towering structure at the center of the slums.
The streets were buzzing with life, filled with other players who had similarly returned from their world travels. Ali's sharp eyes scanned the scene. 'It's always the same,' he noted, observing how different players adapted. 'Some know what they're doing, focused entirely on their survival. Others are still lost, hoping someone will help them figure things out. And then, of course, there are the worst of them—the ones who've completely lost their minds.' His gaze lingered on a woman nearby, her fingers bloody as she gnawed on them mindlessly, her vacant stare betraying her broken state.
'What can you expect?' he thought coldly. 'Throw regular people into a meat grinder, and this is what you'll always get.'
As Ali neared the clearing around the tower, the space was teeming with activity. Thousands of players bustled about, some trying to make sense of their new reality while others entered and exited various guilds and shops. Ali's eyes caught sight of a restaurant in the distance. His stomach tightened at the thought of a real meal, and he gulped involuntarily. After enduring the tasteless rations, the idea of changing the flavor in his mouth was too tempting to ignore.
He walked into the restaurant, and the crowd parted slightly as he made his way through. Many players cast curious glances his way, stealing looks but avoiding eye contact. His presence alone seemed to command attention, though Ali didn't care enough to hide himself. He made his way to the second floor, selecting a wooden table with two chairs and a decent view of the bustling clearing below.
Sitting down, Ali opened the menu that was already on the table. He skimmed through it, his attention drawn to the prices. 'Hmm, not expensive but not cheap either,' he mused. 'Judging by the other players here, this place caters to those who've traveled to multiple worlds and want to treat themselves.'
The sound of footsteps approaching the table reached Ali's ears, but he didn't bother looking up. Without a word, the newcomer took the seat opposite him.
"What do you want?" Ali finally asked, raising his head to meet the familiar face of the white-haired young man who had joined him. It was Jacob—Tempest Wraith—grinning at him with a sharp, confident smile.
"We never really got to introduce ourselves," Jacob said casually. "My name's Jacob, or you can call me Tempest Wraith."
Ali remained silent, his cold black eyes studying Jacob with mild interest. He noticed the small earring dangling from the young man's ear, bearing the insignia of the Air Guild.
"Ali," he responded simply.
"Was that your first world?" Jacob asked, leaning forward slightly. "I don't think I've seen you around before Tokyo Ghoul."
"You ask a lot of questions, kid," Ali replied, his voice low and edged with a hint of warning.
Jacob's grin widened. "Man, you're scary as hell," he admitted, though his eyes sharpened with a hint of something more. "Look, I'm just curious. A new monster shows up in the Slum, and I know nothing about him. I saw you here and figured I'd take the chance to ask some questions—especially since I don't have much time left here."
Before Ali could respond, a middle-aged woman's voice interrupted them.
"Hello, handsome. What can I get ya?" the waitress asked, her thick Southern accent unmistakable as she approached their table.
"One burger, please," Jacob replied smoothly.
"I wasn't talking to you, idiot," the woman, Catherine, shot back without missing a beat.
"Catherine, can't you be nice for once?" Jacob said, feigning hurt with an exaggerated expression.
"Three burgers," Ali cut in, ignoring their banter. Catherine flashed him a smile and walked off to fill their orders.
Once she was gone, Ali turned his attention back to Jacob. "You're right. It was my first world," he said. "Now, who are you exactly? You went out of your way to kill the Stone Guild guy. Why?"
Jacob leaned back in his chair, still smiling but with a glint of pride in his eyes. "As you can see from the earring, I'm a member of the Air Guild—but not just any member. I'm an Apostle," he said, his tone carrying a hint of arrogance despite his cheerful attitude.
"Don't tell anyone this, but I was tasked with killing that guy," Jacob continued, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "It was easy, though. He was a noob, and your interference helped a lot."
"What's an Apostle?" Ali asked, his voice as cold as ever.
Jacob grinned again. "The guild chooses players with talent and invests in them. Apostles are the players they invest in heavily, expecting us to rise to the higher levels and repay the guild by completing special missions. In my case, it's always assassinations." He sighed dramatically, though his playful demeanour masked the dangerous player beneath the surface.
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