Chapter 6: The Mysterious Man

Chapter 6: The Mysterious Man

Tom stood still. Blood was still seeping from the wound on his shoulder, the stinging pain keeping his mind unusually sharp. "Welcome to a world beyond the rules." The words exploded in his mind like a thunderclap.

Instinctively, he clenched his fists, trying to catch more clues from the man's tone. But the man simply stood in the morning mist, his figure blurred, his gaze deep and unreadable, as if everything was within his control.

"Who the hell are you?" Tom spoke again, his voice low, carrying a suppressed anger.

The man didn't answer directly. Instead, he walked forward slowly, each step light and steady, as if he were following some invisible rhythm. The mist shifted slightly with his movement, revealing a pale yet sharply defined face. His lips still curved in that enigmatic smile, full of hidden meaning, yet his eyes were as cold as the depths of the ocean.

"It's too early for you to ask that," the man stopped a few meters away, his voice calm. "You only need to know that thing won't come after you—at least not for now."

Tom's frown deepened. The pain in his shoulder made it hard to fully focus, but he forced himself to stay composed. "You mean that werewolf?"

The man nodded slightly, his gaze sweeping over Tom's wound, a flicker of intrigue flashing through his eyes. "Your adaptability is stronger than I expected."

Tom's heart skipped a beat. He instinctively touched his wound. Blood had already soaked through the sleeve of his camouflage uniform, yet strangely, the pain seemed to be fading. Even the bleeding was slowing down. Looking down, he noticed the edges of his wound contracting at an alarming speed—not enough to heal instantly, but the change was definitely unnatural.

"What did you do to me?" Tom lifted his head, his voice laced with caution.

"It wasn't me," the man shook his head slightly. "It was you."

Tom froze. Images flashed through his mind—those black symbols on his palm, the restless energy in his blood, and that strange surge of power when he faced the werewolf. These eerie changes seemed to confirm the man's words, yet he still couldn't accept such an absurd reality.

In the distance, hurried footsteps broke the silence, accompanied by a gruff voice.

"Tom! Where are you?"

The man's expression shifted slightly. Then, without hesitation, he turned away. "Remember, don't trust anyone too easily. And don't try to run. This is your fate."

Before Tom could react, his figure melted into the morning mist, vanishing as if he had never been there.

Tom wanted to chase after him, but the pain in his shoulder held him back. He could only watch helplessly as the shadow disappeared into the forest path.

"Tom!"

Jack rushed over with Instructor Steven and a few classmates. When Jack saw the blood on Tom's shoulder, his face paled. "Are you okay? What the hell was that thing?"

Instructor Steven stepped forward, his sharp eyes scanning Tom's wound. His brows furrowed. "An animal attack? Impossible. This forest was thoroughly checked—there are no large predators here."

Tom took a deep breath, trying to appear calm. "I don't know what it was either. Maybe I saw it wrong."

He didn't mention the werewolf. He didn't mention the man. His instincts told him that revealing these things would only cause more trouble.

Steven narrowed his eyes, clearly unconvinced, but after a moment, he waved his hand. "We'll deal with this later. For now, get your wound treated. Training is suspended for today. Everyone, back to camp!"

The group began retreating. Jack helped Tom down the mountain path, but Tom's gaze remained fixed on the forest where the man had disappeared. Questions swirled in his mind—the werewolf, the stranger, the changes in his own body… What did it all mean?

Back at camp, Tom was taken to the infirmary, where his wound was cleaned and bandaged. The medical staff was surprised—despite the depth of the wound, it wasn't as bad as expected. It didn't even require stitches. Tom sat on the bed, staring at his bandaged shoulder, replaying the man's final words in his mind.

"Your fate…"

He clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white. Fate? He had never believed in such things. He was just an ordinary student who had come to Winterpeak Academy to study and live a normal life. But now, everything was spiraling out of control.

"Tom, are you really okay?" Jack entered the room, holding a bottle of water, concern evident on his face.

Tom took the bottle, his voice low. "I'm fine. Just tired."

Jack hesitated before speaking. "Back on the mountain… I saw that thing. It wasn't a normal wolf. It was something else—part man, part beast. Do you think—"

"Stop overthinking it," Tom cut him off, his tone calm yet firm. "Maybe it was just the light playing tricks on us."

Jack opened his mouth as if to argue but sighed instead. "Alright… Just be careful."

He turned and left. The infirmary door closed softly, leaving Tom alone. He leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes, trying to sort out the chaos in his mind.

But no matter how much he thought, the questions remained tangled, a knot of confusion.

Night fell. The training camp sank into silence. Tom lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Under the dim moonlight, the black symbols on his palm appeared even darker, almost pulsating with a faint energy.

He sat up, walked to the window, and pushed it open. The cool night breeze brushed against his skin, clearing his thoughts.

In the distance, the silhouette of the forest loomed in the darkness—sometimes clear, sometimes blurred, like a beast lying in wait. Tom's gaze lingered there, and once again, the man's whisper echoed in his ears.

"Don't trust anyone too easily…"

His brows furrowed as a subtle unease crept into his heart. The military training had only just begun, yet both the academy and the forest seemed to be hiding deeper secrets.

Then, a faint noise reached his ears.

Tom stiffened, instinctively lowering his gaze.

Beneath the dormitory, a shadow flickered across the darkness—so fast it almost seemed like an illusion.

But Tom knew better.

It was no illusion.

His heart skipped a beat, his fingers tightening around the window frame.

Danger was still lurking in the dark.