As time passed, Kaidren sat by the open window, bathed in the waning sunlight that stretched across the apartment's gray tiled floor. The television now playing some drama series, leaving behind a sense of background normalcy that didn't match the thoughts spiraling in his head.
A realization hit him slowly, as if the weight of obligation had been waiting for just the right moment to pounce.
"…Dimerian Store," he murmured under his breath, brows furrowing.
Right, today is monday. The job the system forcefully assigned to him—practical, necessary, and irritating all at once. A small convenience store that, by some ironic twist of digital fate, had become his only means of earning some legitimate money in this world. Kaidren let out a long exhale, his eyes drifting toward the clock on his phone.
4:12 PM.
Almost time.
He kept on glancing at the screen of his blue phone, its interface humming with a soft glow as he tapped the Pergle app—this world's version of Google. Fingers moving smoothly, he typed: Dimerian Store – City Z.
A single result popped up.
"Block B, District 2…" he read aloud, eyes narrowing. "No address details, no street numbers. Just that?"
Kaidren frowned. He leaned back, his shoulder blades pressing against the cool wall as he sighed. Still, it was a stroke of luck. According to the map, the store had no other branches—just this one, solitary shop in all of City Z. If it had been a franchise, he would've been thrown into a bureaucratic hell of trying to guess which branch the system wanted him to report to.
He made a mental note.
District 2. Block B.
Somewhere out there. Not far, maybe. But also… completely unfamiliar.
Clothing came next. He didn't need to overthink it.
Kaidren pulled on a simple pair of brown cotton pants, the kind that looked plain but felt comfortably worn. He followed that with a crisp white T-shirt, tucking it into the waistband before throwing over it a pink baggy hoodie. It wasn't flashy, nor did it draw attention—exactly how he liked it. Just muted enough to slip past the eyes of strangers.
A pair of white socks. Then, white rubber shoes—clean but unimpressive.
He patted the front pocket of the hoodie, sliding the blue phone in. It fit snugly against his chest. His hands followed right after, buried in the pocket as he glanced one last time around the apartment.
No keys. No ID card. The building was equipped with facial scanners anyway. Everything he needed was already in his hoodie.
Kaidren paused at the doorway, breathing in deeply.
Yesterday, he hadn't even dared to bring the phone outside. Not with the knowledge he'd seen online back on Earth about Esper robbers—criminals who could tear through walls or sense valuable tech like bloodhounds. But now…
Confidence surged in his chest, subtle but solid. Not arrogance—just that sharp awareness of power. Like a professional gamer who returned to a game he once dominated, Kaidren now stood with familiarity with the power inside his body. The six unlocked esper abilities moved under his skin like coiled steel. They responded to his thoughts. They were his.
But even so, there was one truth that Kaidren never ignored: mastery of ability didn't mean mastery of body.
He still needed time. Practice. Precision.
"Block B, District 2, huh?" Kaidren silently whisphered.
He didn't even know where District 2 started, let alone where Block B fell within it. A blank slate. A puzzle with no reference.
He muttered under his breath, "Guess I'll have to ask someone out there... assuming they don't look at me like I'm a lost tourist."
The apartment door clicked softly behind him as he stepped into the narrow hallway of the 12th floor. Silence greeted him—no tenants, no noise, only the dull hum of the overhead lights. He didn't waste time.
His feet moved with calm precision, carrying him toward the elevator he was only just now memorizing. Kaidren gave a subtle nod of appreciation as the memory of that brown-haired girl from yesterday crossed his mind. Her directions had saved him from wandering this labyrinth corridor for an hour.
He pressed the elevator button and waited.
Ding.
The doors opened. A soft rush of air followed.
Moments later, he was descending.
The elevator opened into the building's main hall, the marble tiles shining under golden lights. The hall was a pristine modernism—cool-colored walls, high ceilings, and polished reception counters that seemed untouched by dust or time.
Several people lingered nearby—receptionists dressed in formal uniforms with the hint of red, a few guests seated in lounge chairs tapping away on their phones. None of them looked approachable.
Kaidren observed them quietly as he walked.
"They don't look like the talkative type," he murmured to himself. "Probably not the kind to give directions."
Truthfully, he could ask them.
But instead of admitting he just didn't want to, Kaidren stacked internal arguments like bricks. It would be weird, he reasoned. I live here now, after all. Why would a resident not know where District 2 is? It's suspicious.
Flawed logic. Transparent excuses. But they served their purpose.
Kaidren kept walking.
The automatic doors slid open with a soft mechanical swish, letting in a breath of early evening wind that carried the scent of city life inside the hall—gasoline, cooked food, and perfume.
And standing there, just like last night, was the same security guard.
Black tuxedo. Earpiece snug behind his ear. On his chest, gleaming in the light, was a silver badge that read:
Tier 2 — Licensed Guardian
The man looked up as Kaidren approached. He held up a small scanning device. "Face scan," he said, his tone practiced and emotionless.
Kaidren tilted his head slightly. A soft blue beam swept across his face.
Beep.
"Confirmed," the guard said with a nod. "Resident of this building. You're clear."
No questions. No small talk. Just protocol.
Kaidren gave a slight nod in return, wordless as ever, and stepped past the glass doors into the cold early evening air.
Outside, the afternoon sunlight bathed City Z in hues of molten gold, casting long, lazy shadows across the cracked sidewalks and the forest of buildings that loomed over the narrow urban sprawl. The streets buzzed in the way only cities could—honking cars, murmured conversations, distant sirens, and the rhythmic clang of a crosswalk countdown ticking into silence.
Kaidren stood motionless at the edge of the pedestrian lane, the tip of his white rubber shoes just barely brushing the painted crosswalk. He blended in, yet not quite—his pink baggy hoodie stood out like bubblegum against a concrete backdrop. In both hands stuffed into his hoodie pocket, his fingers curled loosely around the sleek weight of his blue phone, untouched.
His black eyes flicked side to side, scanning the crowd like a hawk deciding which rabbit to swoop down on. He needed directions—Block B of District 2—but didn't want to ask just anyone. No, he had standards, even when it came to simple questions.
Still, as minutes trickled by and he kept standing still like a lost mannequin, a few passersby began to throw glances his way.
"Is that guy broken or buffering?" one college kid muttered, nudging his friend while giggling under his breath.
"Nah, man's probably an Esper deep in a transcendental vision," his friend responded, voice thick with sarcasm. "Either that or he's figuring out the meaning of life."
A woman in a sharp business suit walked by, raising an eyebrow at Kaidren. "Drugs," she whispered judgmentally into her comm tab. "Has to be."
Kaidren, unfazed, remained still. His expression blank. His mind, however, was shifting through candidates like a security algorithm scanning for facial matches.
And then he saw him.
The man had that kind of tired elegance that screamed professionalism—slightly wrinkled brown tuxedo, matching leather shoes, black briefcase in hand, and hair combed back just enough to show he'd tried. Kaidren locked eyes with the target's slow, worn gait. Sharp, but grounded. A working man who knew the streets. Perfect.
As the man neared, Kaidren stepped into his path, smooth and silent. The man instinctively slowed, shifting the briefcase slightly as his eyes flicked to the oncoming figure in the bright pink hoodie. For a moment, a subtle wariness appeared in his eyes—assessing whether this was an accident or the opening of a mugging attempt.
Before the man could veer away or dig deeper into suspicion, Kaidren spoke.
"Excuse me," he said calmly, his voice cutting through the city's ambient noise like a clean scalpel, "Do you know which direction Block B of District 2 is?"
The man stopped in his tracks. A flicker of surprise crossed his tired face.
"…Block B? Of District 2?" he repeated, as if confirming the specificity of the question.
Kaidren nodded once.
The man blinked, then shifted on his feet. "Yeah, actually," he said after a beat. He lifted his hand and pointed back in the direction he'd come from. "Just keep going straight down that avenue. You'll pass a convenience store, a plaza, and a bridge. After the bridge, signs will start pointing toward District 2. Block B's right along the main road there."
Kaidren's eyes followed the man's finger.
"It's a bit of a walk, though," the man added, lowering his arm. "You might want to call a cab. That area's not exactly close."
"Understood," Kaidren replied, giving a slight tilt of the head in thanks. "I appreciate the help."
The man offered a polite nod, then turned and continued on his path, the sound of his dress shoes fading with each step.
Kaidren stood still for a moment longer, watching the crowd flow around him like a river diverting around a stone. The idea of calling a cab lingered in his mind like a floating bubble—but then his expression twitched, ever so slightly. A flicker of realization lit in his eyes.
"…A cab?" he muttered aloud.
Why would he need one?
Just last night, he'd leapt across rooftops, crossed impossible distances like a specter born from the wind. His movements were faster than the average esper's sprint. His balance—preternatural. His control—precise. The memory of that leap, when he burst through the clouds and punched a vapor trail into mist, replayed in his mind like muscle memory urging him forward.
A smirk almost formed on his lips. Almost.
"I can jump farther than a cab can drive," he whispered under his breath, voice dry with irony.
He turned toward the direction the man had indicated. It was time to look for a nearby alley. Something shadowed, tucked between buildings—just enough cover to spring upward without alerting the curious masses.
As he began to walk, weaving through the foot traffic of the golden-drenched street, Kaidren took a mental stock. The man said to pass a plaza, a bridge, then signage would guide him toward District 2. So the only thing he needed now… was elevation. Height to move like he did last night. To move like a ghost dancing across steel and stone.
His steps were quiet, purposeful, and his pink hoodie fluttered faintly with the late-afternoon breeze. Despite the mundane clothing and the silence in his expression, a quiet confidence hummed beneath his skin. He was no longer worried about Esper robbers, no longer burdened by the unfamiliar weight of this world.
He was adjusting. Quickly.
As the crosswalk light changed, Kaidren moved across the road with the crowd, slipping past vendors and salarymen, toward the edge of his starting point. Somewhere between here and the bridge, he'd find a narrow gap in the buildings. And once he did—well.
No taxi in the world would outrun him.