[Please send the Power Stones. The story is about to get interesting and interesting.]
As Athar walked past the academy gates, his mood was noticeably light.
It was the academy's designated holiday, and the duel with Miss Angelica still lingered in his mind like a pleasant aftertaste. He felt… satisfied, truly satisfied, for the first time in a while. He had proved to be much better than even he had expected.
Even though he was about to undertake an attempt to accomplish something risky, it did not dampen his mood. To an onlooker, he might have looked lethargic and lazy who was going to enjoy his holiday but his mind was sharp and in complete focus of his aim.
By the time Athar left the academy grounds, it was already afternoon. But he was in no hurry. He had planned his timing carefully and still had several hours to spare before the moment he intended to act.
His first destination was the marketplace. It was a bunch of shops clustered together and was the well known commercial hub nestled not far from the academy.
No transportation was necessary; it was a short walk, and for students, practically an extension of the campus itself.
Though business remained quiet throughout most of the week, everything changed on the academy's weekly holiday. On that day, the marketplace came alive. The streets swelled with students eager to spend their allowances, most of it in the form of mana crystals.
From foods to magical trinkets to techniques to cultivation resources; everything was available in this marketplace. One just needed to have the ability to pay for it.
It was one of the unofficial attractions of academy life.
And today, Athar blended into that crowd which was here to enjoy the luxuries of the life.
"Good afternoon, sir," a young man greeted him as soon as he stepped into the clothing shop. Athar had deliberately chosen a modest, somewhat rundown store. His funds were limited, and he could not afford to splurge.
He returned the greeting with a polite nod and calmly explained what he was looking for.
Within half an hour, his shopping was complete—likely the first time he had ever done something as ordinary and personal as buying clothes for himself.
When Athar emerged from the shop, his appearance had noticeably transformed. The ragged, faded garments he had worn for months were gone.
In their place, he now sported a clean white t-shirt, well fitted blue jeans, and a sturdy pair of brown leather shoes which had been crafted out of skin of some wild beast.
In one hand, he carried a paper bag that held another item of clothing.
All of it had cost him a single F rank mana crystal. A modest price, but even it was not a small sum for Athar.
Athar spent the next few hours quietly wandering the sprawling marketplace. He used up another F rank crystal on a warm meal. The meal was simple, yet far more luxurious than anything he was used to. For someone like him, who had long been surviving on scraps and silence, this small indulgence felt almost extravagant.
By the time he finally left the marketplace, the sky had dimmed, the light was fading and the darkness was creeping in. The air had turned a bit chilly and cold.
As soon as he was some distance away from the marketplace, Athar reached into the paper bag and pulled out a black, hooded jacket. He slipped it on and drew the hood over his head.
In the growing darkness, and with the hood his face obscured. Unless someone came unusually close, it would be impossible to spot his face or to recognise him.
And finally, he hitched a ride on a bus. His destination- Zone 26. His old home.
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In an abandoned building on the edge of the city, three men sat huddled on stools around a flickering fire. The place was covered in darkness with the flames being the only source of illumination.
A few empty bottles of alcohol lay scattered around them.
Though they laughed occasionally and drank like men without worry, an undercurrent of unease hung thick in the air. These were the same thugs who had once demanded protection money from Athar and threatened him to promise to pay 30% of his academy earnings.
"Our collections are dropping fast," one of the men muttered, eyeing the flames. "If it keeps going like this, the boss will strip us of this territory."
Dervin, their leader, remained silent. Instead, he smashed the bottle in his hand onto the floor, glass shattering across the ground in a burst of frustration. He let out a frustrated grunt.
"We need to get our hands on more academy brats," another of the men added. "These stall and shop owners barely scrape by. They will never match what we get from the students. The monster cores can solve all our problems."
"Damn it all!" Dervin snarled. "Even that Athar has not shown up for two weeks straight. If he kept paying, we might have bought more time. Four or five students are not enough anymore."
With Zone 26 being as impoverished as it was, they did not have more than 4 or 5 students from the academy who were paying any sort of protection money.
"Did not you hear what happened to Trux?" one of the lackeys asked, lowering his voice.
"I know," Dervin said grimly. "But Trux warned Athar before he was beaten up. Maybe the brat got a little too bold after that."
Silence lingered for a moment as that thought settled among them.
"Should we tell the boss?" the third man asked, anxiety flashing in his eyes.
Dervin gave a slow nod, tension clear in his jaw. "With Trux gone, we do not have a choice. This is not just one student skipping his payment. If word gets out, others will start thinking they can do the same. And then…"
He did not finish. He did not have to.
Dervin was about to say something more when there was a sound of rustling of footsteps. It was like as if someone was approaching them.
"Who is there?" Dervin asked towards the source of sound but no answer followed. Even though, they were the thugs of this zone, a feeling of panic and fear crept up their heart.
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