A New Phase
Now the puzzle pieces were finally falling into place. Thinking back, things had been off from the start.
"Oh, a guest. Welcome. My name is Walter von Eckhart. As you can see, I run this inn. Make yourself at home."
For a guy operating a rundown inn in the 17th District, his name was way too grandiose.
Even I, who hadn't cared much about world history back on Earth, knew that much. The "von" prefix before a surname was a title reserved for nobility.
"Meister von Eckhart, huh."
I muttered the name absentmindedly, and Walter gave a wry smile.
"...It's a name buried by time now. One I discarded myself."
"..."
"The world's laws bind souls, so a complete name change isn't possible, but..."
Walter began unraveling his past.
"As I just said, I was once the master of the southeastern magic tower—the Red Tower. Leader of the mages who delved into the cycles of energy. Back then, I fancied myself as having glimpsed the truths of the universe..."
His eyes seemed to tremble slightly.
"Foolish. I didn't realize back then that even aspiring to glimpse the truth was hubris."
"..."
"I oversaw a massive project, pouring every resource of the tower into it. But despite all our ambitious preparations, an unforeseen accident turned it into a catastrophic failure. I had to go into hiding."
"..."
"I'm just a loser and a cowardly fugitive. A rat who chose to flee. Those accusations from that executor earlier... I can't even refute a single one."
Walter hung his head low.
He silently pulled out another cigarette and lit it, his dejected look making even me feel a bit down.
His confession must have dredged up some bitterly painful memories.
After a stretch of silence, Zero—who'd been wailing at the ruined hospital site—suddenly butted in.
"Sigh. Old man, when the hell are you quitting those damn smokes? I've told you the stench is brutal."
"You know I can't help it."
Was there something special about those cigarettes?
"...!"
I instinctively activated mana sight and jolted in surprise.
His mana and intent, shrouded in cigarette smoke, were as faint and ordinary as a non-mage's.
That's when it clicked why I hadn't noticed a mage of his caliber right beside me.
High-rank mages have a hard time hiding their presence. The waves they unconsciously emit make even mana-blind civilians shrink back instinctively.
Walter had been casually deploying perceptual inhibition with that cigarette-shaped artifact.
Even his daily smokes were part of his concealment tools. Looking back, he always lit up whenever we discussed anything important.
"In the end, we're all in the same boat."
Zero grumbled as he brushed dirt off his pants.
"A green witch wannabe on the run, a quack doc gutting monsters to make ends meet, and a washed-up ex-tower master slinging rooms at an inn... We fit right in this dumpster of a 17th District."
Classic Zero snark, but I couldn't deny it.
"...Can't argue with that."
Our circumstances differed, but the three of us were walking similar paths—parts discarded by society, or ones that had to be.
Maybe that's why we'd ended up together.
Walter looked at me and asked,
"What are your plans now?"
Plans, huh.
First, shake off the Management Bureau before they ramp up. That's why I'd absorbed Miya's soul core. The solution lay in the fragments of memory she left behind.
After that... I'd pursue power by any means necessary to become a grand mage.
I vividly recalled the title of that document from the library.
On the Correlation Between Recent Unstable Spatial Fluctuations and Dimensional Gates
If I could become a grand mage and investigate the essence of dimensional gates, maybe I'd find a way back to Earth—or at least a lead.
I felt like I'd boarded a high-speed train. It was already moving, too late for regrets.
I'd have to adapt to this new phase.
"Dunno. But first, you'll have to comp my stay at your inn, mister. I held back on turning you in for the bounty as ex-tower master."
Walter let out a hollow laugh at my joke.
"...Sorry about that. Room and board on the house—special breakfast too."
Sirens wailed in the distance.
Searchlights pierced the night sky. Probably corporate mercs or Management Bureau strike teams responding to reports.
"Right. Let's get out of here first. Rats have their own paths."
How'd things spiral this far? Isekai life was truly unpredictable. Fitting for a city of chaos, I guess.
A few days passed like that.
The G Block devastation was publicly wrapped up as a "dungeon breakout containment failure." That was the result of our fierce info war on the dark web.
Walter, Zero, Barrett, Kyle, and me. The 17th District Party Assembly.
This went beyond my identity issue—it could spark all-out war with the Management Bureau. For once, our interests aligned perfectly.
> Keeeeng—
The capsule hatch hissed open with a metallic groan.
I emerged from the gyroscope pod, some bizarre VR-like rig strapped to my head.
It looked like brain-torture gear, but this was the only way to digitally extract Miya's memories, apparently.
Clunk!
"Ugh, done? Dizzy as hell."
"Yeah. Bureau goons'll be scrambling for a while now."
Zero, who'd pulled all-nighters, rubbed his bloodshot eyes and pulled away from the hologram screen.
"Fuck, exhausting. Grab me a Monster—strawberry flavor."
The screen swirled with decrypted code clusters: thousands of security auth codes pulled from Miya's soul core.
We'd reverse-engineered her memory fragments to fool the Management Bureau branch's surveillance.
The trick? Higher bureau ranks get freer from system oversight. Executors had insane autonomy.
A regular hacker couldn't even touch their servers, let alone hijack privileges. But us? The 17th District Party that physically stole an executor's soul core.
With Miya's core fused into me, the system already mistook me for her.
Barrett sealed the deal.
"Hahaha! That shaman spider geezer's message was insane. Just punched through the backdoor!"
Barrett's hologram in the video call buzzed with excitement, more hyped than usual.
Using the shaman spider's legacy I'd brought, she'd hacked the imperial network and live-edited Miya's status.
We faked her as still alive: "Top-Secret Mission in Progress," routing her tracker to a tangled virtual server farm.
That bought us months—at least half a year—before upper brass noticed.
Anyway, the ghost finally had a legit ID, name and all.
"All that for one ID..."
> Clunk!
First stop with my new ID: the employment office.
Time to cash in those overdue bounties from all my rolling around.
...They better not have pocketed it, claiming it went unclaimed. I'd make 'em pay if so.
"Uh, uh...! It's been ages. You...!"
As the director said, it had been a while—in lots of ways. Visiting the office, operating without illusions masking my face.
I flashed my ID hologram and pressed hard.
"Tentacle monster. Remember? It's accrued some interest."
"Of course! How could I forget...!"
The director fumbled shakily at his terminal. Moments later, my account pinged: 17 million credits. 1.7 times the original bounty.
"Late fees, hazard pay, and a little office sincerity. That square?"
Rumors of me solo-wrecking the infamous Mosaz Cartel must've reached here.
Might makes right in lawless lands.
That night, as I gazed out from the inn's terrace, Walter approached.
"Get your payout?"
"Yeah. Finally living like a person."
Walter nodded once, then asked gravely,
"Mage. Or should I say Damian now that you have a name."
"..."
"You know this, but we've hopped aboard a massive wave. Your talent will help greatly ahead, but it'll also draw the eyes of big shots like a magnet."
True. Globally, I was still weak.
Sure, I might grow into a titan like Walter said, but get crushed early like Miya, and it's over.
We'd reached the same conclusion: a master-disciple bond.
"So, about that proposal yesterday... Given it proper thought? What's your plan?"
Too embarrassed to say "Be my disciple!", he circled around it. I chuckled and replied,
"Any reason to refuse?"
Who turns down private lessons from the exam board chair?
"...For real?"
I swept back my wind-tousled black hair.
"Yes. Looking forward to it, Master."
Walter smirked back.
"...Heh, no need for such formalities. Feels awkward. Just call me 'mister' like before."