Al walked casually along the sidewalks of Makazhar City, hands in the pockets of his hoodie. Though he hadn't memorized all the streets and corners of this city, he could sense the aura lines woven throughout the roads. Every building, pedestrian, and even the birds perched on electric wires had their own traces of energy.
But one stood out.
Since he left the house, he had sensed a faint aura trailing him. Its distance was constant, its footsteps silent, and most importantly… it carried no killing intent.
A stalker? A professional?
Al slowed his pace.
"Huff… another annoying person," he muttered.
He sharpened his senses—sight, smell, and most crucially… magical resonance.
The person was positioned two buildings behind, on the rooftop of an electronics store. But they weren't trying to approach. Just watching.
Hmm… someone from the family? Maybe one of Father's men to monitor me? Al thought.
Since there was no clear threat and no killing intent, Al didn't bother to retaliate or surprise the stalker. Still, he didn't like being watched.
A smile crept across his lips. Inside his hoodie pocket, he moved two fingers and traced a subtle pattern, activating a minor visual manipulation spell.
---
Meanwhile, from the rooftop, a figure dressed in black with a thin mask observed their target, who had stopped in front of a red light.
Morning traffic was starting to pick up. Office workers, school children, and street vendors all crowded together at the crosswalk.
Their target, the young man named Al, stood with a blank expression.
The light turned green.
Hundreds began crossing.
And… Al disappeared.
"?!"
The stalker leaned forward. No major magic signal. No teleportation. No sound.
"Where… did he go?!" he hissed.
His eyes scanned the crowd.
Nothing.
He jumped down from the rooftop, landing in a narrow alley, blending into the shadows of stores and utility poles. His body melted into the dark.
He swept a 300-meter radius, then 500 meters. No aura trails. No magical fluctuations. Not a single suspicious figure.
Panic began to rise. He thought about the nearby schools. One stood out: an international school.
"No way… there's no way he's enrolled in an international school. The tuition's insane, and his appearance…" he grumbled.
But reality dawned on him. He had lost the target.
He gritted his teeth.
"Damn. If Young Master David finds out, I'll be—"
Turns out, he was the one David had sent to keep tabs on Al.
---
Elsewhere, behind the tall iron gates adorned with the Hazandeen International High School logo, stood Al—wearing a satisfied expression.
"Sometimes, disappearing from surveillance feels great," he muttered, brushing imaginary dust off his shoulder.
The stalker's aura was gone, now far away and clearly panicking.
Al stretched his body and looked up at the blue sky.
"Now… time to be a good student."
His steps were light, as if nothing had happened.
The grand gate of black metal and bronze slowly opened as Al walked in. This wasn't just any school—this was Hazandeen International High School, a place where the elite and the brilliant were groomed to become leaders of Indorosia, and perhaps even the world.
The school operated directly under the Alasia Indonesia Foundation, a formal branch of the Alasia Foundation—an international social institution established by the Alasia Group, the third highest-valued company in the world, headquartered in the Uni-States of Ameriga.
At the main gate post, a security guard chewing on a sandwich froze mid-bite when he saw Al approaching.
"Eh? Al?"
Al turned with a relaxed smile.
"Morning, Mr. Security."
The security guard lowered his sandwich and stood up straight.
"Wait… don't you attend afternoon classes? What are you doing here so early?"
Al paused, glanced at the sky, and scratched his head.
"Ah, well… wanted to check out the morning girls. You know, the air's fresh this early."
He came up with a nonsense excuse that made no sense at all.
The guard stared at him, a mix of confusion and mild disgust on his face, while Al casually waved and walked off as if nothing had happened.
---
Inside the school grounds, behind a quiet garden rarely passed by students, under the shade of a large tree that hid everything from common view—including the CCTV—Al stood alone.
He scanned the area to make sure no one was watching.
Then, raising his right hand, he spoke in a flat voice:
"Gather."
As if responding to a signal, two figures emerged from within a thin illusion.
One wore a full security guard uniform. The other dressed in a formal suit, like a teacher or academic staff member.
Both bowed respectfully.
"Master," they said in unison.
Al let out a quiet sigh and asked:
"You two spying on me again?"
The one in the guard uniform replied,
"Apologies, Master. We acted upon detecting unusual movement. We saw someone suspicious observing you. He seems to have lost your trail at the crosswalk and is now sweeping the city area. Identity is still unknown, but we noticed him shortly after you left your residence."
The suited figure added,
"He didn't display any killing intent. But he has the traits of an assassin—possibly a spy. Shall we eliminate him?"
Al shook his head.
"No need. Just keep an eye on him and confirm his identity. Probably one of my father's spies," he said lazily. "And please, I don't like being monitored. Keep your distance and focus on your roles in this school."
His tone turned firm.
They didn't respond immediately—just exchanged glances.
Al gave a crooked smile and waved them off.
"No need to overthink it. Just act when I say so."
Both bowed deeply.
"Yes, Master."
And like mist swept by wind, they vanished without a sound. Not even a trace of aura remained.
Al stood still for a moment, staring at where they'd been.
He let out a long sigh, as if exhaling the weight of the world.
"Huaaa… What a troublesome morning."
With light steps, he turned and headed toward the main school building.
He had barely taken a step when—
GRAAARR—GRAAARR!!
That familiar thunder ringtone blared like a fire alarm, ripping through the calm morning.
Al shakily picked up his phone. His usually calm face turned pale.
"…Hello?"
He had barely uttered the word when—
"What do you mean checking out young girls?! Do you want me to cut off your head?! Do you want me to—"
The calm Al—who hadn't flinched when being stalked—jerked like a startled child being scolded by a teacher.
Without waiting another second, he ended the call and powered off the phone.
Click.
Silence.
He stood frozen for a moment, then rubbed the bridge of his nose with a heavy sigh.
"Huff… She's seriously troublesome. Nearly gave me a heart attack…"
His face returned to its usual blank expression—but a faint trauma line was now etched into it.
---
Meanwhile, in a super-modern room with transparent glass walls offering a full view of the city—
A woman stood facing the window, her long hair cascading down, her posture like that of a war queen.
Her face was shadowed, her back turned to the camera—only the silhouette of her slim figure in an elegant black dress could be seen. Magical aura rippled subtly around her, making passing staff outside the room feel sick.
She clenched her hand, eyes locked on the now-dead phone screen.
"What?! He had the guts… to hang up on me?"
Her voice echoed sharply, causing the chandelier above to flicker. She turned slightly, revealing a terrifying smile on her lips.
"Just wait, Al. When I show up… I'll make sure you won't have time to look at anyone else."
---
Back at school, in the hallway leading to the cafeteria.
Al's steps were lazy but steady. His eyes half-lidded with sleep. Right now, he had one goal: a sweet snack and a soft cafeteria chair for a nap.
But fate had other plans.
Three silhouettes blocked the corridor ahead. They wore full school uniforms—though with slight "style adjustments": loose ties, jackets draped instead of worn, and shiny, limited-edition shoes.
First: a huge guy, nearly two meters tall. His body was like a walking wall, arms as thick as adult thighs. He stood with arms crossed, face blank. The silent enforcer.
Second: a lanky guy with thin glasses and a sneaky grin. His lips constantly moved, eyes darting left and right. The "brain" of the group—not because he was smart, but because he was slimy and cowardly.
Third: their leader—Rudi Norvalien, third-generation heir of the Norvalien family, one of the top ten richest in Indorosia. Handsome face, neatly styled hair, and clean, model-like skin. But his eyes were filled with disgust as he looked at Al.
Hands in pockets, he leaned slightly, as if not wanting to waste energy dealing with someone so beneath him.
He spoke first.
"Well, well. I thought you were a night ghost, but here you are roaming in daylight."
The lanky one added, laughing.
"Maybe he's hungry. Orphan boy drooling over expensive food here, haha!"
The big guy simply glared at Al like a hungry tiger awaiting orders.
Al stopped. Gave them a flat stare. Said nothing.
"You think that charity scholarship makes you equal to us?" Rudi sneered. "You're a stain. The only reason you're here is because we were generous enough to let you exist."
Still silent, Al took a step forward, intending to walk past them.
"Hey!"
The big guy moved, trying to grab Al's shoulder with his pan-sized hand.
But—
Whoosh!
In a blink, Al vanished from his spot. A sudden burst of acceleration. He was already two steps ahead while the big guy slipped, lost balance, and crashed into a trash bin.
CLANG!
"Arghhhh!" the guy groaned in pain.
The others froze. Rudi stepped forward, rage flaring in his eyes, fist clenched, ready to strike—
"Enough!"
A calm yet firm voice echoed down the hall.
A student appeared—Idham Tamarvich.
A well-groomed youth with neatly combed hair and perfect posture. His uniform was immaculate, like a school brochure model. He wore the school's honor student badge, crafted from white gold.
He was from the Tamarvich family—one of Indorosia's top ten families and co-managers of this school alongside the Alasia Foundation.
He stared down the trio.
"Remember the rules. Whatever personal grudges you have, no violence on school grounds."
The lanky one tried to argue,
"But he—"
"No buts," Idham cut sharply.
He walked slowly toward them. His arrogant aura weighed down the hall.
"If you have a problem with him, raise it in an official forum. Or report to me. Don't act like street thugs."
Silence.
Finally, Rudi scoffed, spat on the floor, and walked off cursing.
Ptui!
"Damn beggar coward."
Once they were gone, Idham turned to Al.
Their eyes met.
Al gave a small nod.
"Thanks." His voice was calm.
Then he walked away, expressionless.
As Al's footsteps faded down the hall, Idham's face twisted. His jaw clenched.
"Tch… that charity boy. Can't touch him carelessly…"
---