Opportunity to Escape

"A pessimist sees the difficulty in every opportunity; an optimist sees the opportunity in every difficulty."

9 

Seeing the rowdy crowd, Dice could not help but let out a silent sigh of relief.

Was it familiarity?

As an ordinary person, the sight of passersby was an everyday, comforting sight.

'There is where I belong.'

It was this kind of naive mentality that would prove to be a problem to him in a matter of minutes.

After all, now, he was no longer civilian Lee Suho, but Professor Lee Suho.

And this was no longer the past world he knew, the comfortable, peaceful world where governments function normally, but the world After the Sky Shattered…

A world where danger exists anywhere, anytime.

Reading articles online was vastly different from actually experiencing his current reality in the flesh.

Dice had no idea what awaited him, or the impressions of the general public about him, or even what it meant to survive during these times. Even if he did, he had no way to rectify it given that he wasn't the same person in their memories.

As far as he was concerned, with his normal civilian mentality, being a chairman of a guild was equivalent to being the highest decision-maker of a company. It did not even occur to him that he was expected to fight.

Fight?

At most, he had hit mosquitoes and other flying insects bothering him with a fly swatter or his hand.

Besides, his current identity was that of a chairman. Was not a chairman of the board someone ranked higher than a CEO?

Guilds should be no different from business enterprises or corporations.

Didn't that mean that he could succeed bullshiting through the day as long as he kept his mouth shut?

People would find it weird, but they would only think he was not feeling well. Or maybe that he was distracted by some other issues.

As the Chairman of Craft, Professor Lee Suho's presence would only involve shaking hands with big shots and signing documents, right? 

The talking and more particular details could be left to his secretary, Assistant Kim, or that guildmaster the guards spoke of earlier. 

In short, people would do things for the Professor, and all he needed was to merely agree or disagree to their suggestions.

'I think I can survive this!'

There was no other options, anyway.

'The leader of the guards mentioned a factory. Since we're headed for a factory, could I be asked to attend a meeting for an acquisition? Or were there some new products or important projects I needed to see?'

'Will I be meeting important people?'

He could not help but look down at his outfit. Albeit designer, rather than a meeting, his attire was more befitting that of a dinner with co-workers, casual but nothing impressive.

'Assistant Kim should have told me to dress more formally.'

By the time the car arrived, Dice found his car blockaded by soldiers. Only after the driver showed them a pass did the soldiers allow them entry.

The other cars escorting him were also stopped for security purposes. The car driving him went ahead without waiting for the rest.

An idea popped up in his head.

"Drop me here," he told the driver, attempting to sound as authoritative as he could.

"Yes, Chairman," the driver responded without asking why. Though he was surprised by the unexpected order, the status of Professor Lee Suho in Craft Guild was too high for a lowly driver like him to ask him for his reasons.

"Have Assistant Kim wait for me outside the meeting room."

"I will relay your orders."

At the driver's response, Dice almost cried happy tears. If it were his assistant, things would probably not go this smoothly.

Dice was dumbfounded the moment he climbed down his car.

There was a swarm of people surrounding a large factory building, some of them wearing army uniforms, obviously from the military, while others were dressed in those strange fantasy armors and robes similar to those from the Craft Guild. The only difference was that their clothes were bearing different crests to signify their affiliations. 

'What the hell is this crowd?'

He also spotted several people holding cameras, recorders and microphones.

'Reporters? Am I supposed to be attending a big event or celebration?'

Surprisingly, no one seemed to recognize Dice. 

A handful of them glanced his way, but seeing his ordinary attire, they probably thought he was indeed a civilian, not an Awakened. There were many ordinary people in the vicinity, running errands from the support team or some small aide of an Awakened. 

No reporter approached Dice. It was quite a relief.

It appeared that the Professor was a relatively low-key figure, despite his name being well-known all around the world. 

After all, with all the Professor's achievements, it would be impossible for him to live a carefree life if he had the media hounding him 24/7.

'There is a reason that I don't have a single picture no matter how much I dig up the news forum.'

As Dice mixed in with the crowd, he had a thought.

'Should I escape?'

He was alone now. 

Finally!

Though he had no idea where exactly this place was, the fact that none of the people from Craft Guild were around meant that no one could stop him from leaving. 

'If the reporters don't know my face, the chances are high that the ordinary soldiers manning the entrance don't know me as well. Even if they stop to question me on my way out, I can make up an excuse and make a run for it.'

As for the rest, he had plenty of time to figure that out.

The most important thing right now was to get out of here.

Just as he made his way towards the blockade, his heart skipped a beat.

His intuition told him there was danger.

Boom!

A huge explosion that shook the heavens and the earth completely blew up the factory, the building where he was supposed to meet with the important people of his guild. The devastating fire and shock waves of the explosion scattered the remains of the factory in all directions.

Scarlet flames spread, and the aftermath was a terrible scene to see. A sea of fire.

Dice, who was watching the scene from a distance, was unable to come to his senses due to the strong wind pressure that suddenly hit his face.

*

Five years into the war. 

They could hear the constant sound of thunderous explosions and gunfire all over the now chaotic capital city of Antyork. Within the chaotic battle zone, they could see battalions of soldiers who wore in dirty green camouflage uniforms darting through what was once a beautiful and tranquil city.

About thirty percent of the total population of these battalions were children of varying ages, who had several weapons either strapped to their backs or held on their adolescent hands. These weapons ranged from semi-automatics to locally, enhanced sidearm, some of them had razor-sharp machetes on their hands, which made them look like local thugs. From the bright red headband on their heads, which had the word – Resistance, written in white, one could tell they belonged to the resistance movement.

"Listen up ladies, we got word that the Royal family's Thunder hawks will carry out a series of airstrikes sometime today! That gives us less than ten hours to abandon base camp and make our way to the camp in the Eastern part of the city! Do you ladies' hear me?!" A muscular man with an eye patch roared.

Immediately, there was a thunderous roar of acknowledgment in response to the orders issued out by the burly man.

Barely seconds after their response, the sound of fighter jets reverberated in all directions. In that same moment, the soldiers directed their gazes towards the red skies of the war-torn capital. What greeted their eyes was the terrifying sight of hundreds of fighter jets soaring over 30,000ft above their heads. The frightening sound of several explosions echoed seconds later, the fighter jets were the assailants, as they bombarded the war-torn city capital.

Caught unawares by the sudden turn of events, most of the soldiers had pale expressions on their faces, with dread and terror gripping their hearts. They no longer held the advantage - regarding the Royal family's airstrike. Just as the soldiers were about to become panic-stricken, they heard the voice of the burly man for a second time, "Protect the generals! We must evacuate them before you're allowed to leave! Leave everything else behind! Move out!"

"Sir! What about the injured! Aren't we going to rescue them?!" A young boy who looked only thirteen years old asked.

Taking a closer looking at this young boy, it was surprising to see that he had the looks and aura of a seasoned killer. It was frightening and unheard of for a boy his age. Although he was still a boy, he had a fairly tall and built frame comparable to some adults. His hair was dark brown with a slight trace of white on it, he had various forms of scars on his face, which looked as if they were the byproduct of some gruesome torture. Further intensifying the murderous and intimidating aura around him.

Unlike most of the other soldiers, dressed in ordinary camouflage, he had two stars on the breast pocket of his gray uniform. With the stern expression he had on his face, the previous order displeased him.