A young man of around seventeen or eighteen walked through a bustling district. On both sides of the street stood merchant shops selling goods and spices brought from distant lands.
The young man stopped by a food stall. His brown-golden hair partially covered his eyes as he pointed at the spices and asked,"Where do these come from?"
"The southern regions," the merchant replied respectfully. "Many traders have gathered there, sir. I've heard that a massive temple was built, drawing in both civilians and merchants alike."
The young man scratched his chin in understanding, then picked up a skewer of grilled meat and took a bite.
Seeing this, the merchant brightened. He broke into a practiced smile and waited for what would come next.
"The food is delicious," the young man said casually, "but there seem to be quite a lot of flies around here. Don't you think buying a fly-catching device would be a good idea?"
He waved his hand, brushing away the flies hovering over the food. The merchant replied calmly,
"Isn't the owner of One Line already here? What is there to worry about?"
The young man sneered softly and nodded in silent agreement. Then, using the very skewer he had just eaten from, he hurled it to his left—toward a man standing six meters away, dressed plainly.
The skewer pierced the man's neck. As he tried to turn around, a hand seized his face.
"As expected of you, Sir Ron. Clean and efficient," the merchant said with a smile.
…
I looked at the corpse in my hand and tossed it aside. The merchant stared at me as if he had just witnessed a piece of entertainment.
I let out a sigh and walked away, indifferent to who the dead man had been. I wandered through streets that resembled those of the Victorian era.
A few people glanced at the body, then quickly looked away.The merchant beside it merely lowered his voice slightly, his hands never stopping as he weighed spices.No one screamed.No one ran.The streets remained as noisy as ever.
As I passed by, the townspeople greeted me cheerfully, as if welcoming someone worthy of respect.
On both sides of the road, people smiled warmly at me. Some even handed me small gifts, which lifted my mood just a little.
Jinlus Village was a remote settlement far from the capital. It was where I had been born—and where I escaped from the orphanage. Or rather, Ron Irus had. My real name, in my previous life, was Joe.
"Where did you just go?"
A black-haired young man with faint red highlights stepped in front of me. He looked about two years older than I was.
"Just taking care of some business. Calm down, little brother," I replied, ignoring the way his eyes drifted toward the expensive items in my hands.
"…Whatever. Just remember, the church doesn't allow you to be out for more than two hours," Lunas said, his eyes filled with exhaustion, as if this conversation had repeated itself countless times.
The two of us strolled through the city—more accurately, this lively village. We played around a bit and ate snacks. Of course, we didn't pay for anything. Some people even gave us extra.
Such were the privileges of the gang that protected the entire village…
"So you killed someone from the Tatagi gang again? Could you stop dragging more trouble our way?" Lunas asked.
"It couldn't be helped, my big little brother."
"…Fine. Do whatever you want."
We chatted as we walked toward the outskirts of the village. Standing before a ruined building, we fell silent, lost in thought.
"So what now?" Lunas asked as we stared at the charred wooden debris at our feet. "You're really planning to enter that academy?"
"I have a plan, Lunas."
"Another plan? Two years ago, you said the same thing and we ended up doing a lot of insane things. Last year too. And now this year?"
I didn't answer. Instead, I walked on. Seeing this, Lunas could only follow.
We jumped over a wooden fence, passed several stone walls, and entered a field of flowers.
Golden five-petaled flowers bloomed among rice fields, enhancing the beauty of nature. Yet hidden within them stood rows of stone graves.
I knelt down and brushed the dust and moss from one of the gravestones. Sitting in the grass, I felt Lunas watching me with a sorrowful expression. Before he could speak, I did.
"I came to say goodbye to my old family. One last time."
"…Then why did you bring me here?"
"Aren't you going to listen to the rest of what I have to say?"
I raised a card. A seal was stamped on it, bearing the words:
Blue Light Academy
"This is the first step of our plan."
"Our plan?" Lunas scoffed. "Sorry, but I have no intention of listening to you anymore."
He waved his hand dismissively. I simply looked at him and gave a wry smile.
"The end of the world is coming. Four years? Six? Eight?" I said quietly. "Lunas, we don't have much time left."
"…Stop playing prophet. I'm tired of your damn plans!" he snapped.
I only stood there, smiling. My hand twitched slightly as it touched the gravestone.
A/N: This is a restructured opening to better synchronize the narrative flow for later chapters.