1 - Chapter 1 - The Traveler Part 1

“In a world where everyone has powers, he awakened a… mysterious system that would help him level up to become… the strongest?”

Myoyou's voice gradually lost confidence the farther he read into the synopsis on the phone.

Around him, the classroom had already begun slipping into its usual end-of-the-day chaos. Conversations overlapped from every corner as students packed their bags and compared plans for the afternoon. Warm sunlight streamed through the classroom windows, while a gentle breeze wandered inside through the open panes, sending the curtains swaying lazily across the room.

Halfway through the synopsis, Myoyou stopped reading altogether.

Squinting in mild confusion, he looked up at Sansan, who sat across from him with the hopeful smile of someone expecting praise. Instead, Myoyou simply handed the phone back with a tired look.

"...This doesn't sound very promising."

"I swear this one's good," Sansan insisted, hugging his phone to his chest as though it were something precious. "It's definitely gonna blow up once it gets animated. You can always tell when a series is gonna become a hit—the art looks good, it's fun to read, and people won't stop talking about it. That's how you know it's fire."

Myoyou rested the side of his face against one hand and stared at him flatly.

"Yeah, yeah. Everything's good to you." He sighed. "What's it even called?"

Sansan glanced back down at the screen.

"Uh... I Got Reincarnated into Another World with a System That Lets Me Steal Powers, But I Just Want to Open a Café."

He somehow managed to look proud after saying the entire title out loud.

Myoyou blinked slowly.

"...That title has, like, fifteen words in it." He frowned. "Isn't that concerning?"

Before Sansan could defend himself, two familiar voices interrupted the conversation.

"What are you guys talking about?"

Thal and Niko wandered over with their backpacks already slung over their shoulders, looking ready to leave for the day.

"Myoyou's making fun of peak fiction again," Sansan said.

"I'm making fun of a guy with an overpowered ability who apparently just wants to open a café."

Niko chuckled.

"Oh, that one. Sansan was talking about it in the group chat last night." He shrugged. "Honestly, I thought it was pretty boring... but that's just Sansan. He always likes stories like those."

"Well, you heard the guy." Myoyou immediately pointed toward Niko. "Boring."

"It's always the same thing," Niko continued. "Some random dude gets a system, levels up like it's a video game, then suddenly becomes the strongest guy alive. Don't get me wrong, though—it's still decent comfort reading if you're just trying to kill time."

Sansan scratched the back of his head before letting out an awkward laugh.

"...Okay, when you explain it like that, I can kinda see your point."

The debate quickly resumed, the two of them immediately arguing over whether the genre had become too repetitive.

Meanwhile, Myoyou turned toward Thal.

"I can't believe that was what you guys were talking about in the group chat last night."

"Not really." Thal shrugged. "It was mostly just Sansan. The rest of us kind of ignored him." He paused before giving Myoyou a curious look. "Actually... why didn't you see the messages?"

"I was busy binge-watching this series about an elf who lives way too long." Myoyou scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "After that, I started reading something else until I fell asleep, so I never got around to checking the group chat."

Thal stared at him for a moment before letting out a quiet sigh.

"...I'm honestly not surprised."

A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, right. Since we're talking about reading..." He adjusted the strap of his backpack. "Do you have any recommendations similar to I Have to Hate Him? I finally finished it."

Myoyou raised an eyebrow.

"You actually read that?"

"Yeah." Thal nodded. "The confession scene annoyed me, but they made up for it a few chapters later."

"In that case..." Myoyou thought for a moment. "I Want to See Your Smile. It doesn't have the same premise, but it gives off the exact same feeling. If you liked I Have to Hate Him, you'll probably enjoy that one too."

"I'll check it out."

Before either of them could continue, the final school bell rang through the building, its familiar chime cutting across the classroom noise.

Almost immediately, chairs scraped against the floor as students filed out into the hallways, their conversations spilling outside and blending into a wall of voices.

Meanwhile, Niko and Sansan somehow hadn't stopped arguing.

Thal laughed.

"You know that's exactly the kind of plot Sansan likes. It's been recycled more times than 'your mom' jokes."

"I've got one," Niko said, already trying not to laugh. "Your mom's so recycled, even the garbage truck said, 'Didn't we already pick this up last week?'"

The group burst into laughter.

Still smiling, Myoyou grabbed his backpack and slung it over one shoulder.

"Alright," Thal said. "I'm heading out. You guys coming?"

"Yeah," Sansan answered immediately. "Let's stop by the convenience store. I'm starving."

"Same," Niko agreed. "We should get there before the entire school floods the place."

Myoyou stretched lazily as he pushed himself to his feet, the lingering exhaustion of another school day settling over him.

"Then let's hurry," he said. "I've still got something I need to finish when I get home."

***

They stepped out of the convenience store carrying ice cream bars and cans of soda, the evening air brushing gently against them after the artificial chill inside. Niko cracked his can open immediately, the sharp hiss of carbonation cutting through the noise of the street as they started down the sidewalk together.

“Finally, it’s Friday,” Niko groaned, stretching both arms high above his head. “If Ma’am Sinaj talked about mitochondria one more time, I was genuinely about to jump out the window.”

Myoyou adjusted the strap of his bag lazily over one shoulder. “You say that every single day.”

“And one of these days,” Thal added with a grin, “he’s actually gonna do it.”

“Oh—right,” Sansan said suddenly, snapping his fingers as if he had almost forgotten. “Don’t forget about tomorrow. We’re still meeting up for the history project.”

Thal looked toward him. “That’s at your place, right? You already got permission?”

“Yeah,” Sansan replied. “My mom said it’s fine. Just make sure you guys ask your parents first.”

Niko let out an exhausted groan. “You say that like my mom lets me leave the house without conducting a full background investigation first.”

Myoyou laughed softly. “Mine’s worse. I practically have to write an essay explaining why I want to go outside.”

“Why does everyone live under military surveillance?” Sansan muttered while shaking his head. “Whatever. I’ll message the group chat later about the time and the stuff we still need. Don’t ghost me.”

Thal raised both hands immediately. “No promises.”

The four of them lingered near the bridge for a while afterward, talking aimlessly while tossing jokes back and forth the same way they always did. One by one, the streetlights flickered awake above them, their pale glow mixing quietly with the fading orange of the evening sky. Around them, the city carried on without pause—the distant sound of traffic, the occasional car horn, the smell of fried food drifting from a nearby stall, the soft ripple of water beneath the bridge moving steadily through the growing dark.

Eventually, they split off and headed their separate ways. Their laughter faded little by little into the noise of the city until only the quiet hum of the streets and the whisper of water beneath the bridge remained behind.

***

Myoyou stepped through the front door and slipped off his shoes near the entrance before walking further inside, the familiar warmth of home immediately settling around him after the cool evening air outside.

“Welcome home, sweetheart,” his mother called from the kitchen the moment she heard him enter. “You took your time. Your food’s on the table—it’s gone cold, though.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Myoyou replied as he set his bag down near the stairs. “Got caught up hanging out with friends.”

“Uh-huh.” She smiled faintly while setting aside the dishcloth in her hands. “Well, eat before it gets cold.”

From the living room, his father peeked over the couch with the television remote still in hand. “Back before sunset for once? That’s new.”

Myoyou grinned immediately. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get used to it.”

He pulled out a chair and sat at the dining table, absently poking at the now-lukewarm dinner before finally taking a bite. It still tasted good despite the temperature. As he ate, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, the pale glow from the screen reflecting softly across his face while his eyes scanned through lines of text.

“Seriously?” his mother said, placing both hands on her hips as she looked over at him. “On your phone while eating again? One of these days, you're going to choke.”

Myoyou glanced up from the screen with an apologetic smile. “I'm reading something, and it's at the best part right now. That's why I wanted to get home early.”

His father chuckled quietly from the couch. “Let the boy be, hon. At least he’s reading. I can’t even finish a news article without getting bored.”

“You’re setting a terrible example,” she replied, though the amusement in her voice softened the complaint considerably.

“I’m setting a relatable example,” his dad shot back with a grin.

Myoyou laughed quietly under his breath before shaking his head. “You two are impossible.”

A comfortable silence settled briefly around the house afterward, filled only by the soft noise of the television and the occasional clink of utensils against ceramic plates. Then his father suddenly glanced toward him again from the living room.

“Your mom was thinking we could go somewhere this weekend,” he said. “Maybe stay at a resort for two days and two nights.”

“Hm?” Myoyou looked up from his phone.

His mother nodded lightly. “Yeah. There’s that new resort nearby—it had a soft opening a few weeks ago. We were thinking of leaving tomorrow morning, staying through Saturday and Sunday, then heading back Monday afternoon since it’s a holiday.”

His father leaned back against the couch afterward. “Just a short break. It’s been a while since the three of us went anywhere together.”

Myoyou hesitated slightly.

“Ah… about tomorrow…”

His mother raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“I was actually gonna ask if I could go out with my friends,” he admitted. “We’ve got a project to work on. I’ll probably be out the whole day. Maybe staying over at a friend’s place.”

“Oh.” She paused for a moment before smiling again. “Well, that’s fine too.”

His father let out an exaggerated sigh. “Our son chooses schoolwork over us. Tragic.”

“It’s a school project,” Myoyou replied quickly, sounding slightly more defensive than he intended.

His mother narrowed her eyes faintly while wiping her hands with a towel. “Just make sure you’re home before six.”

Myoyou blinked. “That was… quick.”

“I mean, it is for a project,” she replied. “Unless you’re lying straight to my face.”

“No, really—it’s for a project,” he insisted immediately.

“Then be home before six.”

“Okay, okay,” Myoyou said with a grin.

He took another bite of food afterward while scrolling through his phone again, the soft glow of the screen catching against the faint curve of a rare, genuinely content smile.

After a while, he finally pushed his empty plate away from the table and stood.

“Thanks for the food, Mom. I’m gonna head up.”

“Alright,” she replied while stacking the dishes together. “Don’t stay up too late.”

“No promises,” Myoyou called back, already halfway up the stairs.

“Good night, son,” his father said from the living room.

“Night.”

A few moments later, after changing into a fresh set of clothes, Myoyou flopped onto his bed with his phone still in hand. Through the half-open window, the quiet sounds of the neighborhood drifted softly into the room—the distant barking of a dog, the faint hum of streetlights outside, the occasional car passing somewhere down the road. The pale glow of his screen illuminated his face once more as his eyes moved steadily across the words in front of him, completely absorbed in the world of someone else’s story.

***

Later that night, Myoyou lay sprawled across his bed with his phone raised above his face. Dark circles rested beneath his eyes as he quietly read through another chapter of the novel he had been obsessed with for the past few days. Then, suddenly, a single line caught him completely off guard.

"Wait... what?" he muttered, frowning at the screen. "He just... did what?"

His thumb moved quickly as he scrolled farther down.

"I did not see that coming..."

A quiet laugh escaped him before he finally lowered the phone onto his chest and stared blankly at the ceiling. Cool night air drifted through the half-open window, gently stirring the curtains while the distant hum of the neighborhood lingered outside. Just as his eyelids began to grow heavy and he was about to drift off to sleep, his stomach let out a loud growl.

"...Seriously?"

He pushed himself upright into a sitting position and glanced at the clock.

1:01 A.M.

"It's gotten this late already?" he murmured. "I don't think there's going to be anything good left in the fridge. I'll just head to the convenience store and grab something to eat."

With a tired groan, he climbed out of bed and slipped on a jacket without bothering to turn on the lights. Moonlight already poured through the windows, bathing the house in a soft silver glow. The entire place remained silent as he quietly made his way downstairs, careful not to wake his parents while passing through the dark hallway. A few moments later, he stepped outside into the cool night air, lazily sliding his hands into his pockets as he walked toward the front gate.

The streets were quiet.

Almost unnaturally quiet.

Then, the moment he stepped beyond the gate—

The nearby trash can rattled violently.

Myoyou froze.

A powerful gust of wind suddenly tore through the street without warning, sending loose leaves spiraling wildly into the air. He instinctively raised an arm to shield his eyes as the atmosphere shifted in an instant.

The sensation crawled beneath his skin, tightening his chest with an unease he couldn't explain.

Then space itself twisted beside him. Myoyou's eyes widened as cold sweat formed across his face.

To his right, the air warped violently inward before splitting apart into a swirling purple fracture that crackled with streaks of distorted light. The portal tore itself open with a sound like shattering glass buried beneath layers of static, its unstable edges flashing with violet lightning that bent the world around it out of shape.

The smell of ozone filled the air almost immediately.

Every hair on Myoyou's arms stood on end.

His heartbeat stumbled.

"What the hell is that!?"

Before he could even process what he was looking at, a figure suddenly shot out of the portal.

A mysterious man slammed into the pavement with a sickening thud before tumbling violently across the ground. Blood splattered beneath him almost instantly.

Behind him, the swirling purple fracture shuddered violently. Its unstable edges crackled one final time before collapsing inward, shrinking into a single point of violet light that vanished without a trace.

Myoyou staggered back in shock.

The man looked barely alive.

White hair clung messily to his blood-soaked face, while a short goatee, stained crimson, trembled with each weak breath he forced into his lungs. Beneath half-open lids, his dark yellow eyes glowed faintly. The tattered remains of a lab coat hung from his body in shredded strips, charred black in some places and soaked with blood and dirt in others.

Even the air around him felt unstable.

For a brief moment, the world itself flickered, like static crawling across the surface of a broken screen. The temperature dropped sharply afterward, cold enough to make Myoyou catch his breath.

The man let out a weak groan before coughing up a mouthful of blood.

Slowly, barely conscious, he planted both hands against the pavement and struggled to push himself up. His arms trembled violently beneath him, barely able to support his own weight. Then he lifted his head just enough for their eyes to meet.

The expression in those glowing yellow eyes wasn't anger.

It wasn't fear.

It was the look of someone who had witnessed something so horrifying that the memory itself refused to let him go.

For a single second, those eyes locked directly onto Myoyou.

"...No..." the man rasped, his voice barely more than a whisper. His trembling gaze remained fixed on Myoyou.

"...I was too late..."

Before he could finish, the last of his strength gave out.

He collapsed face-first onto the pavement.

Silence crashed over the street.

Myoyou remained frozen where he stood, his pulse hammering violently inside his ears while his mind struggled to comprehend what he had just witnessed.

"What..." he whispered.

His voice barely escaped his lips.

"...just happened?"