chapter 4

"The strong survive, the weak perish. Talent is just potential—if you don't develop it, you're nothing more than an ordinary person," words from the professor himself. He believes that only by fighting and experiencing the crisis that death brings can we awaken and evolve our abilities. – While they talked, the boy who had killed the other one looked toward the entrance upon hearing the noise, his expression lighting up as he jumped off the stage and practically ran toward Marlon.

"Marlon!!" – his childlike voice reached Nicolas and Marlon, and before they could separate, the boy jumped on them, specifically on Marlon. – "You took so long to come this time. I almost asked the professor to let me go after you, man." His voice was a mix of sadness and happiness as he clung to Marlon like a tick, his arms wrapped around Marlon's neck in a tight hug. Marlon hugged him back even harder, almost knocking the breath out of him.

"Why wouldn't I come back, little guy? Your brother here is one of the strongest in this school. Who could beat me?" – As he bragged and chatted, Nicolas, watching from the side, noticed that Marlon looked more relaxed and happy—something that never happened when they were together in the canyon.

"And who's he?" – the little boy asked as he settled into Marlon's lap. He had already noticed Nicolas but ignored him at first, thinking he seemed like just another ordinary person. But now, seeing how Marlon looked at this man and even took his hand to bring him inside, he was curious.

"A friend," – was all Marlon said, cutting the boy off before he could continue the questioning. The boy stayed quiet for a moment before flooding Marlon with a stream of questions again, which he answered with jokes and playfulness. Nicolas noticed how different the boy was compared to when he had killed the other kid on stage. He even seemed a bit scared by some of the things Marlon was saying.

They approached the stage, where other children were fighting each other. Although it wasn't as brutal as the little boy's earlier fight, it was still horrifying. Both of the girls were covered in cuts and looked like they could collapse at any moment. But instead of slowing down, their punches grew faster and stronger with each exchange, which shocked Nicolas.

"They're true prodigies. As long as they can awaken their abilities, they'll be a great asset to the clan," – an old man surrounded by strong-looking men declared, his voice echoing throughout the place. He wore black dress pants and a blazer with a red tie—the only thing that stood out in his appearance. He looked like a typical professor, but if you looked closely, you'd see magical symbols crawling along the ground and through the air toward his clothes, like snakes trying to penetrate him. Yet they couldn't—all but a few managed to enter.

The children on the stage stopped fighting and smiled at their professor's praise. They greeted each other and walked off the stage chatting, as if they hadn't just been trying to kill each other minutes ago. They headed to the infirmary on the other side of the arena. The old man turned around when he heard loud laughter and footsteps coming from the entrance. He had noticed them the moment the little boy ran off and had forbidden anyone from looking back, ordering them to keep fighting.

When he got a clearer view, he noticed that Marlon looked stronger. "As expected from a genius," he thought, satisfied. His gaze then shifted to Nicolas, who didn't seem to have any particularly unique aura—but just as he was about to look away, his eyes widened. Illusorily, he saw a pillar of purple light surrounding Nicolas, and magical symbols swirling violently around him, unable to penetrate him due to a purple barrier that protected him.

His expression changed to one of shock, then curiosity. Where did Marlon find someone like this? But after thinking a bit more, he felt pleased, realizing that Nicolas must have some connection to Marlon, since he was brought here. "Truly a good student," he thought, more satisfied than ever with his decision to reluctantly accept Marlon as his pupil.

"Professor," – Marlon greeted him, bowing slightly forward.

The professor nodded with satisfaction, his gaze shifting to Nicolas, who gave an awkward wave under the professor's predatory stare.

"This is Nicolas," – Marlon said, pulling Nicolas forward, his arm wrapped around his shoulders. – "He's someone I found while exploring the ruins of Loleng." He briefly explained how they met, leaving out the fact that Nicolas wasn't from that world and the strange phenomena caused by his awakening.

"I see," – the professor said after hearing the whole story. The scowl on his face softened into a smile. Though he still found the tale odd, he decided to let it go for now. He looked at Nicolas once more, his eyes reflecting pure, unfiltered greed.

 – "My name is Zalchi. Zalchi Manfred. A pleasure to meet you, and thank you for helping my student—I am deeply grateful."

"O-oh. As you already know, I'm Nicolas," – he said, extending his hand. Zalchi returned the gesture and shook it.

The moment their hands met, Nicolas felt a sudden tightness in his chest and a cold sensation entering his body, as if something were crawling through his veins, searching for something. Zalchi's smile grew wider—he was scanning the boy from within. Given his high cultivation and the nature of his ability, he wasn't worried about being detected.

He noticed Nicolas's frown but didn't care, thinking once again that the boy must have only recently awakened his ability. This was confirmed as he could feel the magical symbols moving chaotically through the boy's body—some getting lost in his blood, others fusing with his flesh. Zalchi even felt a little pity for the boy and attempted to help stabilize it—but was repelled by a strange force.

Following the path that should've led to the brain, he found something unusual. Most abilities were tied to memory, but in Nicolas's case, the path led to his heart. As he got closer, he saw that the boy's heart was golden, and as the symbols merged with it, it began to shine even more brightly.

Deeply intrigued, Zalchi extended his power closer, but the moment he reached near the heart, a massive pressure crushed him. The heart shone even brighter and golden symbols emerged, directly attacking Zalchi's power. He tried to resist, using more energy and even a curse, but it was useless. The symbol bypassed everything and struck his power core, obliterating it instantly.

Zalchi's expression changed. He abruptly let go of Nicolas's hand and collapsed, bleeding from every orifice—eyes, nose, ears…

Everyone panicked and ran to help him. He stood up, fear in his eyes. For a moment, he thought the boy might be a high-level expert, but calmed himself by recalling the chaotic scenes inside his body. His curiosity for the boy only grew stronger.

Nicolas remained frozen, unable to see what had happened, but he felt the book inside him stir, releasing the same pressure as when he first found it. He wasn't in good shape either—his nose started bleeding, and before he could fall, Marlon caught him and helped him stay upright.

"Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. Finally! A true genius has descended upon us!" Zalchi exclaimed fervently. He could no longer hide the greed in his eyes. Knowing there was a force stronger than his own within the boy—and the boy likely didn't even realize it—was the perfect opportunity.

He spoke to Nicolas for a while longer, inviting him to join the school and become a student, which Nicolas readily accepted. After all, that had been one of his goals from the beginning.

After securing the boy and a bit more conversation, Zalchi dismissed all the students until the following morning and returned to his office. Once he left, all the children surrounded Marlon and Nicolas with questions: "How did you meet?" "Is it pretty out there?" "Are you staying with Uncle Marlon?"

Even Marlon, the great warrior, couldn't escape their curiosity, and with a softened heart, he answered all their questions. Nicolas joined in, and after some time, laughter could be heard outside the school.

Marlon and Nicolas said goodbye to the children, who would return to training later, and headed to Marlon's home—just two streets away in what looked like a massive greenish apartment building. At the entrance, a guard stopped them, but Marlon showed the apartment key and was let through. The guard stared at Nicolas briefly before returning to his disciplined stance.

Their apartment was on the second floor, number 25 on the right, near the stairs. The building was green on the outside, but once inside, the colors turned grim and gray. Everything—furniture, clothes—was gray, except for a few colorful clothes scattered around and some light from open windows.

The place reeked of simplicity. The bed was made of raw stone, as were the rest of the furnishings. The wooden cabinets were empty and worn. Clothes and sheets were dirty and piled in a basket.

Marlon, embarrassed, apologized and called someone to clean up. Soon a woman in an apron arrived with cleaning supplies and tidied everything.

"Sorry. I don't usually bring anyone home, and I'm rarely here, so I don't bother cleaning," Marlon said, scratching his head. Despite being a skilled fighter and eager learner, he was terrible at tidying up—partly due to laziness, and partly because, according to his teacher, "that's a woman's job."

However, during his travels, he had been forced to clean up after himself and saw how it made him more responsible, though he'd never admit it to his teacher for fear of reprimand.

"N-no, it's fine," Nicolas replied quickly. He didn't want to take advantage of Marlon's vulnerability.

"I'm a mess too. My room was always messy. If it weren't for my mom, I'd have been swallowed by the clutter."

"That's scary. If you stay with me, will you destroy my apartment with your terrible habits?" Marlon joked, secretly grateful for Nicolas's understanding.

Nicolas didn't know how to react. Even though it was clearly a joke, the thought of being kicked out by his only friend in this world made his eyes well up.

"Hey, don't be like that," Marlon said, placing a warm hand on Nicolas's shoulder, sending shivers down his spine. "I was just kidding, okay? I'm not going to abandon you for that." His eyes were sincere, and Nicolas wiped the tears from his face.

The cleaning woman finished quickly and left, carrying the dirty laundry into the dusk. Since electricity was scarce, even top-floor residents used torches. They were lined up in rows, placing torches into wall holders by each door. Marlon took a stick from his bag, wrapped in coal, and lit the torches inside the apartment. Light gradually returned, and Nicolas could see again.

"This will be your room," Marlon said, leading him to the one next to his own. "It's right beside mine in case you need anything. The bathroom's at the end of the hall. I use the other room next to the kitchen for storage." The kitchen was across from Nicolas's room and shared space with the living room, divided only by a crude stone counter.

The room was simple: a stone bed with clean sheets and a moldy wooden wardrobe. Still, it was more than enough for now. Returning to the living room, Marlon invited Nicolas to get something to eat since the apartment had no food.

They went to a food stall selling hot dogs—though very different from what Nicolas knew. The filling was mashed vegetables with tomato and dye to give it a red hue. The sausage was actually a unique fungus that could be boiled, fried, or cooked. Shaped like a pod, each capsule had different woodsy, sweet, or savory flavors depending on how it was prepared.

Nicolas devoured the food like a starved man. Days in the desert eating only damp meat and rotten fruit will do that. Marlon watched with a smile, constantly asking for more food. In total, they went through eight trays, each holding 14 hot dogs, and Nicolas still asked for two more to take home. They were wrapped and placed in a leather bag along with the leftovers.

Some people stared at Nicolas in shock. The bag was half his size, and he looked like an ant trying to carry it. Marlon found it funny but stepped in when someone offered to help. Effortlessly, he took the bag and slung it over his own shoulder, glaring at the man.

Back at the apartment, Marlon stored the food in the pantry, planning to preserve it better in the morning. He and Nicolas talked, and Marlon explained more about the city. Although part of a clan, the city wasn't fully under control. Outsiders weren't welcome. Some had been arrested without cause, reported by locals, or even targeted by an anti-outsider faction that included influential figures.

Nicolas listened and realized it was just like his world—companies, political parties, and such segregated by class.

"You better be careful going out alone. But don't worry—we won't stay long, just a few weeks, I promise."

Nicolas nodded. After everything he'd heard, he felt even less like exploring. He'd already noticed some unfriendly faces while climbing the stairs with Marlon but ignored them. However, when the man helped with the food bag, Nicolas felt extreme alertness. The man's eyes were cold and emotionless—his smile fake. Nicolas couldn't explain why, but he felt intense hostility from him.

Once they reached the apartment, he relaxed. Marlon had probably noticed his discomfort and offered advice. Nicolas thanked him and went to his room, organizing his bag. He didn't take the journal out—kept it inside for safety. Not because he didn't trust Marlon, but Marlon might inadvertently inform the higher-ups, including someone named Ambrósio. No one in this world seemed aware of the book—or maybe they were testing him.

Either way, he kept the journal in the bag. He was happy with his new situation and hoped he could help the clan, even if it meant using the book. After days of exhausting travel and danger, his body finally gave in, and sleep overtook him swiftly.

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