In the bedroom of the villa, Myth stood in front of a tall mirror, wearing a crisp white linen shirt, black trousers, and a clean pair of white sneakers. His slender frame, lightly defined with lean muscle, was reflected clearly under the morning light. His fair face was sharp and calm, but his most striking feature—his vivid, burning red eyes—stood out like fire beneath his messy jet-black hair.
He ran a hand through his hair, trying to push the strands out of his eyes and settle them into place.
After adjusting himself a few more times and giving a satisfied nod at the mirror, Myth pulled on a black coat and stepped out of the villa.
The blue sky stretched over the horizon, crisp and clear in the chilly morning air. As he looked ahead, the high-rise buildings of the city stood out in the distance like silver towers.
Myth walked toward his car. From his coat pocket, he pulled out a small, rectangular device and pressed a button on its surface. A soft blue glow lit up the device's edges as his car responded with a metallic clank, unlocking.
Sliding into the driver's seat, he inserted the device into a narrow slot on the center console. As it clicked into place, the dashboard lit up, and the car systems booted to life.
Myth tuned the radio to some jolly music, the speakers filling the car with warmth as he drove down the sleek highway toward the heart of Aurvyn City—still about 40 to 50 minutes away from the villa.
"Gooood morning, Aurvyn City!" the radio host's voice boomed with enthusiasm. "It's a beautiful day out there, skies are blue, vibes are high. Quick tip—grab your girl some red roses today. That color contrast? Always a win. Pair it with the right music, and trust me, she'll be falling for you in no time."
"And speaking of music, we've got you covered. Coming up—this month's top five trending romantic songs, back to back. Let's get this day started right..." said the radio host
'Maybe I should get her a rose,' Myth thought, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he drove through the clear morning.
"She probably won't get one anytime soon… but I guess that'll have to wait till evening."
He soon pulled into the parking lot of the city transfer office, a sleek grey building tucked between newer high-rises.
Being early morning, the place was mostly empty—quiet except for the humming vents and the occasional footstep echo.
Myth walked up to the nearest counter. Behind the glass sat a middle-aged woman typing away, her glasses slipping slightly down her nose.
"Good morning, ma'am," myth greeted politely.
She looked up, adjusting her glasses.
"Good morning. How can I help you?"
"I'm here to file a transfer to the Lawless Lands—specifically to the safe zone of our country , goldrest. Here are the documents."
The woman froze for a moment, blinking. Then—
"…Lawless Lands? Wait—Lawless Lands!?"
She scrambled through the documents with growing alarm, flipping to the ID page.
"You're seventeen?" she asked, her tone jumping somewhere between disbelief and concern. She looked him up and down, eyes wide.
"Look, aren't you a bit too young to be heading to a place like that? The Lawless Lands are dangerous! If you're thinking this is going to be some kind of grand adventure, or a life-changing story you'll brag about later—just… forget it. Get those delusions out of your head and go do your homework!"
Myth raised an eyebrow. "Don't a lot of people go there at seventeen?"
She sighed. "Yes, technically. But they usually look the part. Tall, strong, experienced—many of them train for years and move in groups. You? No team. No backup. And honestly, you look like you're fifteen at best. You've got the kind of body that's never done a day of hard work."
She began stacking the papers neatly, still muttering under her breath.
Myth leaned in a little, smiling faintly.
"Well look at the predicament we are in , I don't know how to handle myself in a fight… you clearly don't know how to handle a job." He paused. "And now I'm really curious how your husband handles you."
The woman glared at him. Myth just smiled, unfazed, tapping the counter lightly.
After processing the documents, the lady continued without giving Myth a chance to speak.
"Your documents will be updated in the government app by tonight. You'll also need physical copies, which will be delivered to your address within a week."
She looked up briefly, scanning Myth's expression.
"The Lawless Land you're heading to is called Redfall. It's the size of a continent. Every country has a designated Safe Zone there. To enter our country's Safe Zone called goldrest, these physical documents are mandatory. Entering another country's safe zone without proper permits is illegal and could get you detained—or worse."
"Thank you for the information," Myth said . "But I think you forgot to mention the charges for the documents."
The lady tapped her forehead with a light sigh.
"Right—300 credits. You can pay via chip or online transfer."
After paying at the counter and thanking the lady again, Myth exited the building.
He drove through the city toward another location, eventually pulling into an alleyway beside a run-down old café. The exterior was worn, the paint peeling, but it held a certain quiet charm—like a forgotten secret.
Inside, a man seated at the back gave Myth a nod. Myth returned it silently and took the seat across from him.
"I'll get straight to the point," the man said, voice low. "My client is offering 90,000 credits in chip for you to withdraw your seat. That's the best I can manage. The rest is up to you."
Myth raised his hand, signaling a waiter. Once the server reached their table, Myth spoke in a calm, measured tone.
"I'll have a coffee. Two teaspoons of milk."
As the waiter walked off, Myth turned back to the man.
"I don't have a problem with the offer. So… when do I get my money?"
"We finish this deal now," the man said, sliding a chip and a document across the table.
"Sign this, and the chip is yours. The chip has the transaction block ID and hashcode embedded and printed—you can verify the balance through BlackNet's private ledger. Just insert it and check. Simple as that."
Moments later, the coffee arrived, placed gently on the side of the table. Myth didn't glance at it.
He reviewed the document, scanning it thoroughly.
Myth picked up the chip, examining it briefly before sliding it into the chip port on his mobile—a narrow slot built specifically for credit transfers. The device lit up, instantly detecting the chip and pulling the data. Block ID, hashcode, credit value—all visible on screen. With a few taps, Myth transferred a small test amount into his bank to confirm legitimacy.
Everything checked out.
Satisfied, he signed the paper.
The man gave it a quick glance, nodded in approval, and stood.
Without another word, he disappeared out the door.
Myth sat in silence, sipping the now-cold coffee. His crimson eyes drifted from the window to the patrons around him—quietly watching the world pass by.
With the credits safely in his account and the deal behind him, only one task remained.
He had to gear up. And also maybe buy a rose.