The Pursuit of Knowledge (and Not Being Called a Creep)

The city had not rested, but the sky had lightened. The artificial glow of neon signs dimmed against the encroaching morning light. The night had passed in a blur of strange sights, odd customs, and countless weirdly specific vending machines that seemed to dispense everything from food to enchanted socks.

But now, the streets were bustling with a different kind of energy.

The Carrion stood at the edge of a busy intersection, observing as clusters of young people moved in the same direction.

They were diverse—beastfolk with twitching ears, elves with sharp features, demons with tiny horns, even humans with no obvious magical traits.

But what caught his attention the most was their uniforms.

He frowned, many of his hidden eyes narrowing as he scanned their outfits.

Strange… why are they all wearing the same dull clothing?

There were variations, of course. Some wore jackets, others had different colored skirts or pants. But overall, the same theme remained—white tops, dark bottoms, and matching insignias.

It made no sense. Were they part of a cult?

That would be troublesome. He had enough experience dealing with those in his previous era.

He listened carefully, his enhanced hearing filtering through the morning chatter.

“Ugh, I forgot to do my homework!”
“The midterms are coming up. I’m so screwed.”
“Hey, let’s stop by the café after school.”

…School?

A realization struck him.

Ah. This must be a gathering place for the young to be educated.

He watched as the students continued toward a massive fortress-like structure in the distance. It was far too grand to be anything other than a place of significance.

If I wish to understand this era, I must start from the foundation…

A determined glint flashed in his eyes.

He would enroll in this ‘school.’

The Carrion arrived at the front gate of the massive institution. It was an architectural marvel—blending modern technology and ancient magic, with floating glyphs hovering over its towering entrance.

Students poured in, chatting and laughing.

Casually, as if he belonged, he walked up to the entrance.

He was immediately stopped by a security guard.

“Oi.” The guard squinted up at him, a burly beastman with wolf ears. “You lost, buddy?”

The Carrion shook his head. “No. I wish to enroll.”

The guard’s ears flicked. “…You what?”

“I wish to become a student.”

Silence.

The guard looked him up and down—his towering height, his sharp features, his clearly not-teenager face, and his unsettlingly intense stare.

A moment later, the guard snorted. “Nice try, old man. Keep it moving.”

The Carrion blinked.

Old man?

He tilted his head. His body was, in truth, ageless. He had no concept of mortal years. But the guard’s reaction made it clear—his current form was unacceptable.

I see. My appearance is incorrect for entry.

He closed his eyes. His body rippled.

A sickeningly organic sound—like shifting flesh and cracking bone—filled the air as his height shrank, his features softened, his muscles compacted.

His towering, intimidating frame was replaced by that of a teenager.

When he reopened his eyes, he had taken on the form of a youthful student—lean but sturdy, with slightly messy dark hair and a face that looked appropriately ‘high school age.’

His outfit remained the same, but his features were far less menacing.

He turned to the guard and repeated, “I wish to enroll.”

The guard’s ears flattened. His nose twitched. “…How did you just—”

“Does this form meet your qualifications?”

The guard narrowed his eyes, but the transformation had been so seamless and natural that there was no clear evidence of wrongdoing.

“…Tch. Whatever, go inside. If the office kicks you out, it’s not my problem.”

The Carrion nodded and walked in, unfazed.

The guard, however, rubbed his temples.

“Damn weird kids…”

The Carrion found himself in a massive hallway, surrounded by bustling students.

He had already blended in perfectly. No one paid him any attention, which meant his transformation was successful.

Now, he needed to formalize his enrollment.

He followed the golden signs leading to the administration office. The doors automatically slid open with a soft hiss, revealing a clean, magically enhanced workspace. Floating quills scribbled on documents, enchanted filing cabinets organized themselves, and a bored-looking receptionist halfheartedly scrolled through a glowing tablet.

The Carrion stepped forward.

“I wish to enroll.”

The receptionist didn’t look up. “Name?”

He hesitated. He had many names. Titles from forgotten empires, cursed monikers whispered in fear…

He decided on something simple.

“…Carrion.”

The receptionist’s fingers paused. She finally looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Carrion? Just Carrion?”

He nodded.

She shrugged. “Alright. Age?”

“…Appropriate for this institution.”

She squinted. “That’s not an age.”

“…Sixteen.” He picked a random number that matched his new form.

She tapped her tablet. “Alright, do you have your student identification number?”

“No.”

“Prior schooling history?”

“...No.”

“Guardian contact information?”

“…No.”

The receptionist put down her tablet.

“…So you’re telling me you just showed up out of nowhere, with no records, no guardian, and no prior education, and you expect to be admitted?”

“Yes.”

A long silence.

The receptionist rubbed her temples. “Okay. Look. That’s not how this works.”

“Why not?”

“Because you need documentation. You need proof that you exist.”

The Carrion frowned. “I am standing before you. That is proof of my existence.”

“That’s—That’s not what I meant!” She groaned, slumping back in her chair. “Listen, kid, I don’t know how you even got this far, but you can’t just walk in and demand to be a student!”

He was silent for a moment. Then, he asked, “Is there an alternative method of enrollment?”

The receptionist exhaled. “Technically, you could take an entrance exam. But it’s meant for exceptional cases.”

“Then I will take it.”

“…Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

The receptionist gave him a long, skeptical look. Then, she sighed.

“Fine. I’ll schedule you for the next exam.”

The Carrion nodded. “Thank you.”

As he turned to leave, the receptionist shook her head.

“I swear, this school attracts the weirdest students…”