Al strolled casually along the sidewalks of Makazhar City, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie.
It's already been more than five years since I came back, he thought.
I spent the first three years in the northern districts of the city—roaming the outskirts, blending in with the lower and middle classes.
Only in the last two years did I and my people move into the city center, digging deeper into every side of the city itself—its streets, forests, and rivers—integrating with the elites and the hidden groups alike.
And even now, there were still plenty of places in this city I wasn't familiar with.
Though he didn't know every turn or alley in this part of town, he could still feel the lines of magical energy woven into the streets.
Every building, pedestrian—even the birds perched on power lines—left traces of their own magical presence.
But one stood out.
Since stepping out of the house, he had sensed a faint aura following him. The distance remained consistent, the steps were silent, and more importantly—there was no killing intent.
It was the same aura as the ones who had been tailing him last night.
Another spy? A professional this time? Al thought with a hint of irritation.
By the way, it's been over two years since the last time the World Magic Association kept a close eye on me. He wondered.
Since then, no one's been spying on me anymore—and now, I just need to hang in there for another five years to completely secure my standing in their eyes.
Al slowed his pace.
"Huff… another pain to deal with," he muttered under his breath, slightly annoyed.
He sharpened his senses—visual, olfactory, and especially… magical resonance.
The person was two buildings behind him, positioned on the rooftop of an electronics store. Not approaching—just watching.
It didn't seem to be from the WMA. Hmph… most likely someone from the family. Maybe one of Father's men is keeping tabs on me, Al thought.
He turned around and took a closer look, then activated his Dimensional Eye. A red glint flashed within his pupils.
Huh!—another one?Another presence whose true essence I couldn't see any deeper?
Hmph… what exactly is allowing them to slip past my Dimensional Eye? I don't think this is as simple as my eyes failing to read them, he wondered.
If that's the case… where did my family even get something capable of intercepting the Dimensional Eye?
More than that, it didn't seem to apply to everyone. Only David, his personal bodyguard, and this new presence were unreadable to me.
Or could this all be related to David? Did Father give him special protection? Or… Mother?
Interesting. Very interesting. The Virellano family is hiding something big—something mysterious—something my eyes still can't reach.
Still, it's annoying to see people starting to watch and spy on me again. Whether it's my own family or someone else entirely, I just want a little more freedom.
Since there was no certainty and no threat intent, Al had no reason to obliterate or spook the stalker. Still, being watched rubbed him the wrong way.
A small smile curved on his lips. He moved two fingers inside his hoodie pocket, tracing a faint sigil before casting a minor spell.
(Dark) Basic Magic: Perspective Manipulation
A subtle, small magic circle appeared at his fingertip—almost invisible.
A light illusion spell activated, one so faint most wouldn't even detect it. It warped perception ever so slightly, cloaking Al from the spy's field of view.
---
Meanwhile, from a nearby rooftop, a figure clad in black—his face hidden behind a thin mask—watched silently as the target stopped at a traffic light.
Morning traffic was picking up. Office workers, students, street vendors—everyone blended together as they crossed the street.
His target, the young man named Al, stood there with a blank expression.
Suddenly, Al seemed to turn in his direction.
The figure stiffened, panic flashing through him as he instinctively shifted, adjusting his hiding spot.
But then reason kicked in. There was no way Al could see him. The distance alone was more than enough—on top of that, he was protected by an illusion skill.
"Guess it was just my imagination. Why did I panic all of a sudden… huff," he muttered under his breath.
Regaining his composure, he focused his gaze back on Al, carefully observing his every movement.
The light turned green.
Hundreds crossed the street.
Then—Al vanished.
"?!"
The observer leaned forward in shock.
The boy was just there—no sound, no blur. Gone.
"Where did he go?!" he hissed.
His eyes darted through the crowd.
Nothing.
A wave of genuine panic surged through him this time.
He jumped down from the rooftop, landing in a narrow alley, then melted into the shadows of nearby storefronts and utility poles.
His body seemed to disappear into the darkness itself.
He scanned a radius of 300 meters, then 500. No trace. No disturbance. No one suspicious. Magic? Impossible. He assumed Al had no magical energy.
Anxiety climbed higher. He racked his brain—considered the nearby school zones, and remembered the nearby international academy. But he shook his head.
"No way… there's no way he could've entered that school. The tuition alone is insane—and look at how he dresses…" he muttered, frustrated.
But reality hit hard. He had lost the target.
Grinding his teeth, he muttered,
"Damn it. If Young Master David hears about this, I'm—"
Turns out, the shadow was one of David's men—sent to keep tabs on Al.
---
Elsewhere, behind the tall gates of Hazandeen International High School, Al stood with a satisfied smirk.
"Maybe I should file a complaint to Father about this surveillance nonsense. It's way more fun to just vanish from under their noses," he said, brushing dust from his shoulder.
He still suspected the stalker was someone his father sent.
That aura was now far off—frantically searching in the wrong direction.
Stretching his arms, Al looked up at the clear blue sky.
"There are still more than two hours before that war. Plenty of time to get a little sleep. Well then… time to play the good student."
His steps were light. As if nothing had happened.
The grand gates of black metal and bronze slowly opened as Al walked through. This wasn't just any school.
This was Hazandeen International High School, a place where the elite and brilliant were groomed to be future leaders—not just of Indorosia, but the world.
The school operated directly under the Alasia Indorosia Foundation, a branch of the global Alasia Foundation, a philanthropic arm of Alasia Group, the third-highest valued conglomerate in the world, based in the Uni-Stated of Ameria.
At the main gate, a security guard munching on a sandwich froze mid-bite when he saw Al.
"Huh? Al? Am I dreaming, or did you actually wake up early?"
Al turned around, a relaxed smile on his face.
"Of course I wake up early. I'm the most disciplined student here," he said casually. "By the way—morning, Mr. Security."
The guard paused, set his sandwich aside, and stood up stiffly.
"Disciplined, my ass. So it really is you," he snorted, then narrowed his eyes. "By the way… you're not a morning-class student, right? What are you doing here this early?"
Al paused. His eyes flicked toward the sky as he scratched his head.
"Uh, well… let's just say I wanted to see the lovely girls who attend the morning classes. Hahaha."
He forced a grin, clearly improvising a poor excuse. "Nice weather, isn't it? Anyway, I'll be going ahead."
The guard stared at him with a confused—and slightly disturbed—expression, while Al turned around and waved casually, as if he hadn't just said something inappropriate.
---