The Central District was far wider than Light had imagined.
He walked along the main roads, occasionally stopping to read direction signs. The buildings stood tall and orderly, the streets were clean, and people passed by in clothes that looked expensive—even the simple ones somehow appeared appropriate.
Light felt like a stain on a white canvas.
He adjusted the bag on his shoulder and took a slow breath. Focus.
His first objectives were simple:
• Find the academy
• Find the Cheapest place to stay
• Register as quickly as possible
He didn't have time to get lost.
After nearly an hour of walking, Light finally saw the Academy building from a distance.
It was nothing like an ordinary school.
Tall walls layered with metal and white stone surrounded the compound. Mechanical structures were integrated directly into the architecture—not decorative, but functional. Flags of the Central District fluttered slowly before the main gate.
This was the place.
Light stopped and stared.
Everything would be decided here.
Money became a problem again when he started looking for a place to stay.
The inns around the Academy were expensive. Too expensive. Even narrow, windowless rooms demanded prices that forced Light to recount the coins in his pocket again and again.
Eventually, he found a small boarding house in a narrow alley, some distance from the center.
The building was old, but clean. The owner was a middle-aged man who spoke little.
"Thirteen days?" the man raised an eyebrow. "Payment up front."
Light paid without protest.
When the last coin changed hands, he knew it clearly: his remaining money left almost no room for mistakes.
Academy registration was held in a separate building.
The line was already long when Light arrived. Many young faces—some confident, some nervous. A few came with parents or escorts.
Light stood alone.
The man in front of him turned and offered a light smile.
"You registering too?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Name's Rex," he said, extending his hand.
"From the outer districts as well?"
Light nodded. "Light."
Rex chuckled. "Thought so. Same here. At least we're not alone."
The brief exchange eased Light's tension slightly.
Not everyone here looked down on him.
As the line moved forward, the atmosphere shifted.
A group of well-dressed students entered the line without concern for order. A few people protested quietly, but fell silent the moment they saw their expressions.
At the center of the group stood a tall man with broad shoulders and an arrogant face.
Damian.
He glanced at Light and Rex—long enough to make it clear they were being evaluated, and judged inferior.
"Hah," Damian scoffed. "Even people from the outskirts can line up here now."
Rex stiffened but stayed silent.
Light said nothing.
He was here for the exam. Not trouble.
At the registration desk, Light handed over his documents.
The officer checked them quickly. "The test begins in three days. Don't be late. Any violation of the rules will result in immediate disqualification."
Light nodded. "Understood."
As he turned away, he nearly collided with someone.
"Ah—sorry."
A young woman stood in front of him.
Dark hair, neatly kept. A clean, calm face without excessive features. The Academy uniform looked natural on her, as if it belonged to her from the start.
"It's fine," she said. "You're a new applicant?"
"Yes."
"I'm Elia," she said with a small smile. "Good luck."
The conversation was brief. Ordinary.
But Light noticed one thing immediately.
Damian's gaze.
"Hey."
Light had only taken a few steps when the voice stopped him.
Damian stood nearby, his expression cold.
"You know her?" he asked.
"We just exchanged a few words," Light replied calmly.
Damian stepped closer—not invading space, but close enough to be deliberate.
"Then remember this," he said quietly.
"Don't approach her again."
Light met his eyes. "I'm not here for that."
Damian smiled faintly. "Good. Because people like you tend to misunderstand their position."
Rex shifted uneasily, but Damian was already turning away.
The message was clear.
Light exhaled slowly and left the registration area.
On the way back to his boarding house, the city felt different.
Still clean. Still beautiful.
But now layered with invisible lines he wasn't meant to cross.
Inside him, something began to change—slowly.
Not courage.
But a forced patience.
And patience like that never lasts forever.