[Phase 2 will begin in 14 days]
Cain froze as he read the notification.
So this wasn’t the end?
The system hadn’t said he had become a hero; rather, it had congratulated him on successfully becoming a hero candidate and passing Phase One.
Hero candidate.
The phrasing alone raised questions.
He couldn’t help but think of it as a selection process rather than a reward, as though he were merely one participant among many.
Cain exhaled slowly, his thoughts turning sharper.
Am I the only one undergoing this trial? Or were there others somewhere out there, fighting their own battles and chasing the same title?
The system hadn’t confirmed it, but it also hadn’t denied it, and from everything he had seen so far, it wasn’t the type to explain anything unless it absolutely had to.
Which meant the possibility was real.
And if that was the case...
His jaw tightened slightly.
...There was a chance that, at some point, he would have to face other humans rather than monsters.
The thought alone made his heart beat a little faster than he liked.
That kind of fight was different, carrying a level of danger and unpredictability that mindless creatures couldn’t match.
Cain didn’t like it, but there was nothing he could do about it right now.
[You will be returned to your world]
The screen flickered once more, and just like before, that same black substance that had brought him to Ember Isle crawled over his skin and swallowed him whole, taking him back.
It happened so quickly that Cain didn’t even have time to react.
One moment, he was standing inside the crater, and the next, his feet were settling onto solid ground.
He exhaled slowly and remained where he was, his eyes moving across the alley as he took in the familiar walls and the faint signs of damage left behind by the fight.
Recognition struck almost immediately.
This was the same place he had disappeared from three months ago.
He was back.
It was daytime now, which made everything feel different, but the details were still there.
Cain glanced around briefly.
The dealer was gone, of course, taken by the Guild Association, most likely.
But that didn’t concern him.
The man hadn’t known who he was.
And after three months? There was a high chance the entire thing had been buried under newer incidents.
From what Cain had seen in the Guild database, they were stretched thin.
Most awakened preferred becoming Hunters, chasing money and status rather than working in enforcement, leaving the authorities spreading limited manpower across countless investigations.
As a result, only the largest and most dangerous cases received significant attention, while smaller incidents often slipped through the cracks.
Cain intended to remain beneath that threshold.
He exhaled and finally started walking.
Right now, all he wanted was a proper rest. Three months of fighting, surviving, and sleeping with one eye open had left a fatigue that went far deeper than sore muscles.
He had barely taken a few steps before something occurred to him.
Cain stopped and glanced down at himself.
...Right. This was going to be a problem.
The outfit he was wearing stood out far too much.
Between the heat-resistant materials, the charred fur stitched into parts of it, and the overall design, anyone who saw him would immediately know it wasn’t normal civilian clothing.
And if he wanted to keep a low profile, blending in mattered.
So without hesitation, Cain began stripping it off.
By the time he was done, the only thing left on him was his underwear.
And just like that, he stepped out of the alley.
One could argue that walking around in nothing but his underwear would attract more attention. And they would be right.
But attention from ordinary civilians was very different from attention from Hunters or the Guild Association, and right now, Cain was far more concerned about avoiding the latter.
Heads turned as he passed. Some openly stared, their expressions ranging from confusion to disbelief. Others slowed their pace to get a better look, while small groups exchanged hushed comments as he hurried by.
Cain ignored all of it.
He didn’t care what they thought.
As long as nobody tried to stop him, they could stare all they wanted. Then the phones came out.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
Of course, they did.
People could never resist an opportunity like this.
The stranger the situation, the faster they reached for their cameras, eager to record it and throw it online for attention.
Cain had no intention of becoming someone’s viral video.
Without slowing down, he burst forward, his enhanced body carrying him across the street in a few quick strides.
He vaulted over a low fence and landed lightly inside the nearest compound, immediately putting distance between himself and the growing crowd.
For a moment, he thought he had escaped their attention. Then he looked up.
An old man sat on the porch with a newspaper resting in his hands, staring directly at him.
Cain stared back.
And for several seconds, neither of them spoke.
Cain let out a quiet sigh.
"Damn it."
He didn’t panic. There was no need for that; instead, he walked forward calmly toward the man, who stood to his feet, ready to flee at the first sign of danger.
"I need a bag, some clothes, and enough money to rent a room for the night."
The man blinked.
"Have you lost your mind? Who the hell are you?"
Fair question.
"I’m a young man in need. And right now, I need clothes, a bag, and enough money to rent a room for the night."
The old man’s frown deepened.
This time, he rose from his chair, irritation plainly written across his face.
"Listen here, you faggot. I don’t know."
Cain raised a hand.
A small flame flickered to life above his palm, casting a warm orange glow across the alley. It wasn’t large enough to be dangerous, but it didn’t need to be.
The old man’s words died in his throat.