The Past Is Not a Shadow One Can Outrun

"Veilhot!?"

"May God be with you, my friend," Veilhot replied, his voice resonating like an ancient melody, filled with wisdom and mystery.

Ryan sighed, shaking his head. "Still as theatrical as ever, huh? It's been a while. How have you been?"

Veilhot took a few steps forward, his gaze lifting toward the grayish sky. "Time flows like the wind brushing against the mountain peaks—elusive and silent. I am well, or at least as well as a man can be in a world where fate dances on the edge of chaos."

Ryan smirked. "And you still talk like an old sage... Seriously, you should have been a writer or a poet instead of settling for an ordinary life."

Veilhot let out a soft chuckle. "Ah, my friend, normality is a treasure few know how to cherish. The Awakened chase power, yet they forget that life, in its simplicity, is a masterpiece of its own. Is it not in the shadows that light unveils its true splendor?"

Ryan crossed his arms. "If you mean you're happy like this, I guess I can't argue. But honestly, you could've aimed higher."

Veilhot placed a hand on Ryan's shoulder, locking eyes with him. "And you, my friend? Your heart carries the weight of the future, your steps are those of a man seeking to break his chains… Tell me, Ryan, what is your goal?"

Ryan averted his gaze, staring at the ground. "I..." He paused for a moment before sighing. "I want to be free. To be strong enough that no one can ever impose their will on me again."

Veilhot slowly nodded. "Freedom is a mirage, a star we chase but never truly grasp… But if that is your path, then walk it without faltering. Even the shadow of the greatest oak cannot hold back the bird that wishes to soar."

Ryan couldn't help but smile. "You always find a way to make things more poetic than necessary."

Veilhot burst into laughter. "And you always find a way to make things more pragmatic than they should be."

Silence settled between them, but it was not an awkward silence. It was the kind shared by friends who needed no words to understand each other.

At last, Veilhot spoke again, his voice softer this time. "No matter where your quest for freedom takes you, remember this: stars shine brighter when there's someone to watch them with you. I will always be here, Ryan. In the shadows or in the light."

Ryan nodded, a faint smile on his lips. "Yeah... Thanks, Veilhot."

The wind blew gently as Ryan and Veilhot walked side by side, leaving the forest behind. The mana stones glowed faintly in Ryan's hands, fleeting echoes of an ephemeral wealth.

In the shop, the vendor—a man whose face bore the marks of time—examined the stones with a critical eye.

"I can give you 10 dollars, no more," he declared, his tone dry.

Ryan raised an eyebrow. "Only 10?! These stones are worth way more than that!"

The vendor shrugged. "Maybe on the black market. But here, they're just rocks with a bit of energy. So, take it or leave it."

Ryan clenched his teeth. He knew he was getting ripped off, but he had no choice. With a sigh, he handed over the stones and took the 10 dollars in return.

Outside, he gripped the bills tightly in his fist. "This is ridiculous… I thought I'd get way more."

Veilhot, who had been watching the scene with his usual serenity, gave a faint smile. "A man always believes he holds treasure until another tells him it is nothing but sand."

Ryan exhaled in frustration. "Can't you just talk normally for once?"

Veilhot chuckled. "And can you see the lesson hidden within these words? Value is but an illusion, my friend. What you see as precious may be meaningless to another. It is not the object that matters, but the eye that beholds it."

Ryan sighed. "Yeah… But in this world, without money, you're nothing."

Veilhot placed a hand on Ryan's shoulder. "Then tell me, if money makes a man, what does he become when he loses it?"

Ryan didn't answer. He knew Veilhot was right, but reality remained cruel.

The duo entered a computer store, and Ryan immediately turned his attention to the price tags. When he saw the lowest one, his heart skipped a beat.

500 dollars.

His hands trembled slightly as he gripped the bills in his pocket. Ten dollars suddenly felt like a cruel joke from fate.

He turned to Veilhot, his jaw clenched. "You see this?! This is the world we live in! I risked my life for those damn stones, and it's not even enough to buy one-hundredth of what I need!"

Veilhot observed the glowing screens with unshaken calm. "Man believes he controls technology, yet in truth, it is technology that enslaves him. A simple assembly of metal and circuits can shake your spirit, Ryan. Is that not ironic? You seek freedom, yet here you are, chained to a screen."

Ryan shook his head. "Easy for you to say, but I need this to move forward."

Veilhot crossed his arms. "Need or desire? Does the tree need the rain, or does it merely cry for it out of whim?"

Ryan remained silent for a moment before letting out a tired sigh. "I need this computer, Veilhot. To survive. To grow."

Veilhot nodded slowly. "Then find a way to reach your goal. But remember: everything with a price can be bought… yet not everything is worth paying for."

Ryan didn't respond. He averted his gaze and left the store, his heart heavy.

He sat down on the sidewalk, staring into the void. The world around him kept moving, yet he felt like he wasn't part of it.

Exhausted, he let his eyelids close gently.

A few moments later, Veilhot's voice broke the silence. "A man sleeping on the pavement is no different from a king on his throne. Both dream, but only one of them can wake up free."

Ryan opened one eye. "Are you gonna keep this up for long?"

Veilhot crouched beside him, his smile as serene as ever. "Until you understand. The world is cruel, Ryan. It devours those who cannot adapt. But true strength isn't about having money or power… It's about never letting hatred and frustration consume you."

Ryan slowly nodded. "I know… But it's hard."

Veilhot placed a hand over his heart. "As long as this beats, nothing is lost."

Ryan let out one last sigh before closing his eyes again. He didn't yet know how, but one thing was certain—he couldn't give up.

Night draped the city in its dark mantle, and the two friends fell asleep on the sidewalk, lulled by exhaustion and the weight of unfinished dreams.

Passersby, seeing them like this, mistook them for beggars. One by one, they dropped coins and crumpled bills into Ryan's hand. Even in his sleep, he still clutched the ten dollars he had fought so hard to earn.

Morning arrived with its harsh light. Ryan slowly opened his eyes, feeling something strange in his palm. When he unfolded it, his heart skipped a beat.

130 dollars.

He stared at the money in disbelief, his thoughts still clouded by sleep. Then, realization struck.

The passersby… They thought I was a beggar…

A wave of confusion washed over him. Should he feel ashamed? After all, he hadn't asked for anything. Or should he be grateful for this unintentional charity?

Veilhot woke up as well, an amused smile forming on his lips as he noticed the money in Ryan's hand.

"Ah… The world truly is fascinating, isn't it?" he mused. "You slept like a king and woke up richer than yesterday. Isn't that a wonderful irony?"

Ryan exhaled, still perplexed. "I don't even know if I should laugh or cry."

Veilhot placed a hand on his shoulder. "Don't overthink it. The universe gives, the universe takes. It's all just a matter of balance."

Ryan shook his head and stood up. "In that case, let's use this money before the universe changes its mind."

With his 130 dollars, Ryan headed to a small electronics store. He scanned the shelves, looking for something affordable. Finally, he found an old-generation Android phone for 115 dollars.

He handed the money to the cashier and took the device in his hands.

It wasn't a computer, but it was a start.

A spark of hope ignited within him. Maybe, despite everything, he still had a chance to reach his goal.

But just as he was about to leave the store, a noise caught his attention.

Whispers. Gasps.

Outside, a crowd was gathering, their faces lit with both awe and fear.

Ryan pushed his way through the mass of people and looked up.

She was there.

A graceful figure stood in the middle of the street, clad in a pristine white dress that seemed to float under an invisible force. Her radiant white hair gleamed under the morning sun, and her eyes exuded an indescribable power.

The Saint.

An A-rank Awakened.

Ryan felt his breath hitch.

What was she doing here…?

Veilhot, ever composed, observed the scene with curiosity before stepping forward through the crowd. Then, as he saw her face, a faint smile curved his lips.

"Oh… Fate truly enjoys playing with tormented souls," he murmured, almost in admiration.

Ryan, following closely behind, stopped dead in his tracks. His expression twisted into a mix of anger and frustration as he caught sight of the Saint.

Her.

His burning gaze locked onto the woman who had once been much more than just an A-rank Awakened.

His ex-girlfriend.

Silence weighed on his shoulders like a burden. He wasn't ready for this. Not now.

Veilhot slowly turned his head toward him, reading his expression with veiled amusement. "Ah, my friend… The past is not a shadow one can outrun. It is a specter that dances in our reflection, waiting for the perfect moment to remind us of its existence."

Ryan clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. "Why… Why is she here?!"

But before he could search for an answer, a voice echoed in his mind.

"Pathetic."

A cold shiver ran down his spine. It wasn't a physical voice.

She was speaking directly into his mind.

"Look at you, Ryan. Sleeping on the sidewalk like a common beggar. So this… is what you've become?"

Ryan felt his blood boil. He lifted his eyes to her, but she didn't move. She remained there, noble, untouchable, even as she scorned him in the secrecy of his own thoughts.

Veilhot, on the other hand, crossed his arms, watching the scene unfold with an intrigued smile.

"Oh… Now this is interesting."