Itsuki moved away from the vendor's cart whom he had just purchased something from, the warmth of a small loaf pressed into his palm. With his other hand, he stuffed the coins he had been given back as change into his pocket — the faint clink swallowed by the city's murmur.
Good to know they can understand me too.
I'm not sure how it works, but I just speak normally and somehow, it comes out right.
He tore off a piece of bread and chewed absently, watching crumbs scatter to the ground. The crust was rough, the taste plain, yet it grounded him — proof he could still feel, still eat, still properly exist in this borrowed body.
Maybe I'll try it doing in front of a mirror sometime and see how I loo—how my mouth moves when I speak.
The thought lingering longer than it should have.
He took another bite and continued moving forward, following the stone path toward the bridge ahead.
Each step felt steadier now, as if the world were finally beginning to recognize him.
The bridge on the other hand, stretched wide across the slow, gleaming water, its stone arches bending with an ageless grace that seemed to hum faintly beneath the weight of footsteps and wheels. Carriages pushed by horses and cars rattled across the cobbled path, their iron and rubber rims striking the stones in uneven rhythm, while men in dark coats and women clutching parasols flowed steadily between them — a river of lives moving both ways. Near the edges, peddlers called out in distant tired voices, their words lost to the clatter of footsteps, hooves, tyres and the murmuring tide of conversation.
Itsuki leaned against the cold railing, feeling the vibration of all that was passing echo through the stone beneath his palms. From where he stood, he could see the city stretch out across the opposite bank — the tall, pale buildings pressed together in perfect rows, their windows glinting like dull mirrors.
A chilling breeze rolled across the water, brushing against the hems of coats and rustling through the trees along the boulevard. Somewhere, a newspaper was caught and swept along the bridge, tumbling past boots before vanishing over the edge.
Around him, the world moved — loud, alive, and indifferent. Yet, for all the noise, Itsuki felt a strange stillness settle inside him. As if everything — the shouting vendors, the turning wheels, the light catching the water — existed only to remind him that the world would keep moving, no matter what path he had chosen, and now, no matter what archetype he would choose.
He stared into the empty space ahead, and—almost like it had been waiting for his thoughts—the system's dashboard shimmered back into view.
The same list of Archetypes unfolded before him, pale letters hanging in the air. Beneath them, the small timer pulsed faintly:
[Time Remaining: 23: 57: 42].
All the choices look tempting, but I still don't know which one to pick.
The bread in his hand had now gone cold. He tore off another bite without tasting it, his eyes still scanning the floating texts.
Based on what I saw those officer do with the thief in public and in the alley, I should pick something that'll keep me alive long enough to understand why I'm here.
He studied each description again, the system's words reflected in his eyes.
The one who fired the shot, he must've been an Armancer. It easily explains how he could hit so precisely with nearly half the street between them.
Being able to wield weapons that well both in close and long range like that could end up being really useful in the long run.
He exhaled slowly, the sound lost to the wind rolling across the bridge.
A Combatter's definitely out of the question. I don't need anything that'll make me stand out in any way.
If this world revolves around these Archetypes, standing out might mean drawing the wrong kind of attention.
He leaned against the bridge, gaze falling to the water below.
The Mage archetype's the same. That leaves the Assassin, Skin-Walker, and Armancer.
Each one's too different to compare easily. So the choice has to be made either by my own preference, or serious analysis which I can't properly do right now.
He chewed the inside of his cheek, his thoughts still running.
I've only seen the Armancer in action, so it's a safe bet. The Skin-Walker looks grim, unsettling even… while the Assassin feels like middle ground.
A breath escaped him; half sigh, half release. He tilted his face up toward the wind, letting it comb through his hair.
There's no need to rush to a decision just yet. I still have some time before I decide, so I need to make sure I pick the right one in the end.
He took another bite from the bread, his gaze going back to being fixed on the slow current beneath the bridge, when he felt a hand land on his shoulder.
Itsuki flinched, twisting around in alarm.
"Whoa, relax... it's me you idiot."
The voice was easy. The kind that made tension slip away before you realized it.
A tallish figure stood before Itsuki, maybe even a few years older. His coat was undone and sleeves were rolled back, the faint scent of oil and smoke clinging to him.
Before Itsuki could say anything, the man pulled him into a quick, rough hug.
"You have no idea how worried I was after it happened…"
He broke the embrace and without asking, plucked the bread from Itsuki's hand, biting into it before settling beside him on the railing.
"I was even more worried when I got to the hospital and didn't see you there. I asked around but no one claimed to see you leave."
He chewed thoughtfully, then stretched the bread back toward Itsuki.
"You okay?"
Shit. This must be a friend the person who had this body knew.
"Uh… yeah." He took the bread back, scratching the back of his head with a sheepish smile. "Sorry. I just felt better and thought I'd take a walk. Clear my head a bit."
The man laughed under his breath, shaking his head. "You idiot, who takes a walk after an accident like that."
He turned his gaze back toward the water, his smile softening a little.
"After the fall, I thought the worst. It also didn't help that the nearest hospital had no proper equipment as well…"
His voice trailed, the faint grin lingering even as his eyes lost focus. Then, he looked back at Itsuki, an earnest smile on his face.
"I guess what I'm trying to say is.… Well, I'm really glad you're okay."