The first rule of being a background character: Never Stand Out.
Simple rule. Solid rule. I live by it.
It's been Three months since i got here.
In fact, I'm so good at not standing out that I've been working in this fantasy town's busiest café for three months, and most customers and coworkers still don't know my name.
Perfect.
"Oi! Table four's waving again!" the manager barked from behind the counter, wiping a mug with all the grace of a war veteran scrubbing blood off a shield.
"Yes, yes," I muttered, tying my apron. "On it."
This place—Moonveil Café—was a hotspot for adventurers, traveling merchants, jobless nobles, and the occasional bard who thought strumming a lute near scones made them deep.
I approached Table Four: a loud group of rookie adventurers who'd just come back from "fighting slimes" and now thought they deserved a statue.
"Welcome back," I said. "Same order as always?"
The girl in the front, a fiery redhead with a chipped sword and zero filter, leaned forward. "You remembered! That's creepy. Are you secretly into me or something?"
"No. You just shout a lot."
Her jaw dropped. Her teammates laughed.
I smiled. Silently. Politely.
Forgettable.
Just the way I like it.
After the usual rush, I found a quiet moment in the backroom to sit, sipping leftover tea.
The wind outside rattled the wooden windowpane. Somewhere nearby, a bard's flute squealed like a dying goose. I sighed in peace.
Until—
💬 [Notice: Shadow Alert – Rank C Threat Detected Nearby.]
My vision flickered.
Only for a second. A small, glowing glyph appeared in the corner of my eye. Only I could see it.
Only those with [Shadow Talent – MAX] could.
I stood. Calmly removed my apron. Slipped out the back door.
A Few Alleys Over…
A man in a cloak cornered a child. His hand glowed with dark runes, some underground curse spell. The kind the local guards didn't understand and didn't want to.
"Just hold still," he hissed.
The child whimpered.
Too slow, I thought.
One step and I was behind him.
Two fingers tapped his shoulder.
He turned.
Too late.
💬[Shadow Step – Activated.]
My foot hooked his ankle. I spun behind him as the shadows stitched around my blade.
💬 [Silent Fang – Executed.]
The rune magic fizzled. He collapsed before he even gasped.
The kid blinked.
"Run," I said, voice low, masked, like I always wanted to.
He did.
I vanished.
Back at Moonveil Café
"Where'd you go?" the manager grunted as I returned through the side door.
"To take a dump. Why?."
He scowled. "For twenty minutes?"
"Got stomach ache."
"Hmph. Grab a mop. Someone spilled milk (it's PG-13 SO,…) on Table Six again."
"Yes, sir."
I moved through the crowd like wind—present, but never noticed. Just a guy in an apron, nothing more.
The adventurers bragged about monsters.
The nobles bragged about titles.
The bards sang of legendary warriors with blades like comets and eyes that could shatter empires.
I mopped the floor.
Smiled faintly.
Because none of them knew…
The strongest man in this kingdom
…was the guy who refilled their Milks.
[End of Chapter 1 – "Welcome to Table Four"]