A few hours later, Sable returned home.
The street was calm. No alarms. No sirens. The evening looked almost normal — which felt strange in this world.
(Quiet days feel more dangerous than noisy ones… but at least walking outside is still possible.)
He opened the door and stepped inside.
"I'm back, Mother," Sable said.
At the table, Celi sat with her legs swinging, pencil clenched in her fist, workbook open.
"This is irritating," she declared with great seriousness.
Her tongue peeked out as she wrote crooked numbers.
Sable paused.
(She's studying willingly. This is definitely an abnormal event.)
From the kitchen, Mira turned around. She wiped her hands on a towel and walked over, scanning him from head to toe. Her brows pulled together.
"Where were you playing?" Mira asked. "Look how dirty you are. Did something happen?"
Sable glanced at his sleeve and pant leg — dust stains and road marks.
He answered calmly, voice steady. "I fell on the station stairs," Sable said. "But I'm fine. I'm not injured."
Mira studied his face for several seconds, searching for cracks in the lie. Her shoulders slowly relaxed.
"If you say so. Go take a shower," Mira replied.
She turned back toward the stove, then spoke again as if remembering something.
"By the way, a girl from your school came to see you."
Sable's steps slowed slightly.
(Did this body have friends?)
(I've only been here a few days. No memory of his social circle.)
He kept his face neutral and gave a small nod.
"She said she'll come again tomorrow," Mira added, tone lightly teasing. "You should talk properly with your girlfriend."
Sable blinked once. Then again.
"Mother," Sable said seriously, raising one finger, "that is a misunderstanding. I don't have a girlfriend."
He pointed at himself. "I am not handsome or popular enough to generate one."
Mira looked confused — then embarrassed.
"I see. Sorry. I reached a conclusion too early. She looked very desperate, so I assumed," Mira said. "My fault."
She waved him away with a small laugh. "Go shower. Dinner soon. And clean Kuro too."
Sable nodded and headed upstairs.
(A girl from school… so there is at least one connection in this life.)
Steam filled the bathroom. Water ran over his shoulders while he stood still, eyes half-closed. Kuro waited outside the door like a guard.
(Friend? Classmate? Whoever she is, it's probably not important.)
He changed clothes and went downstairs.
The small house felt warm — old walls, repaired corners, clean floor. Everything maintained with effort instead of money.
Mira and Celi were already seated. Before sitting, Sable placed Kuro's food bowl down. The cat immediately began eating with full focus. Only then did Sable sit.
Mira spoke between bites.
"People were talking about an accident near the park today," Mira said. "A Player saved two children from a vehicle."
Sable kept eating and lied smoothly. "I don't know," he replied evenly. "I was outside our area. I went to a bookstore."
(That was your son, Mother. Gossip spreads too fast.)
Mira nodded slowly. "Good. At least you go outside for books. You really don't enjoy normal teenage life, do you?"
A moment passed. She looked at him more seriously.
"Sable. In a few months you'll finish school. You're already seventeen. What are your plans after that? College? Or not?"
His hand stopped mid-air.
(I didn't calculate the post-school route yet. My target is money and a safe house. Truly useless planning.)
He lowered the spoon and answered lightly, almost joking. "I haven't decided yet. I just turned seventeen," Sable said. "Maybe I'll work at the store with you for a few months first. Then decide."
Mira's lips parted as if she wanted to argue — then she stopped. Her expression softened.
"Alright," Mira said quietly. "You still have time. Don't rush."
Dinner ended peacefully. Night settled fully.
Sable sat in his room with a mug of coffee, elbow resting on the window frame. The barrier shimmered faintly across the sky. Three moons floated above it.
"The fact that I'm a Player and hiding it is a crime in this world," Sable murmured.
(If discovered — forced registration, forced assignment, forced teamwork. Social punishment.)
He took a slow sip. "Let's hope no one finds out soon. Still… I should prepare for that day."
He remembered Mira's old words.
"The future of this world is already dead."
His eyes hardened slightly.
"This TRPG world is unpredictable," he said quietly. (Endings depend on how the character is built and what choices are made.)
"In my previous life, no one cleared the game. Final ending — total Earth collapse. Too many branches."
Silence stretched across the room.
"The future can still be changed," Sable said. "Created again."
A pause.
"I still don't understand why I'm inside this game world."
He exhaled. "I was just a gamer. An average guy… with terrible luck."
—
Three days passed. Work. School. Repeat.
Sable stretched his arms behind the convenience store counter, shoulders stiff from standing too long. His joints cracked softly. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead.
The street outside was unusually empty.
"I heard a gate opened nearby," Sable murmured. "That's why it's too quiet today."
He tapped the counter with his fingers.
"Bad for business," he added. "Good for survival. Also means more panic buyers later."
He scanned the shelves again. "Too much work today. Low pay, high fatigue. Legendary combo. Still… I can't let Mother handle everything alone."
The automatic door slid open with a chime.
Mira entered first, carrying a small paper bag.
Behind her walked two people in black suits — one man, one woman. Straight posture. Measured steps. Sharp eyes.
Sable's gaze dropped to their badges.
WPA — World Player Association.
His fingers paused for half a second — then resumed moving normally.
(Calm. Maybe they're just customers. …No. They came with Mother. Bad sign.)
He stepped forward with a polite expression.
"Welcome back, Mother," Sable said.
Mira didn't smile. She looked at him seriously. "Sable. These people are here to see you."
(Goodbye, peaceful store life.)
The man stepped forward and offered a friendly hand.
"So you're Sable. Nice to meet you. I'm Axel," he said. He pointed at his partner. "She's Ava. She doesn't talk much."
Ava spoke immediately, voice flat. "Stop talking nonsense and get to the point."
She moved slightly toward Mira to speak privately, but Sable spoke first.
"It's not polite to ignore the person you came for, Officer Ava," Sable said calmly. "Or does WPA not care about civilians now?"
Axel blinked. (First time someone cut her off and survived.)
He coughed lightly. "Let's talk somewhere quieter," Axel said, smiling toward Mira. "Official WPA matter. Won't take long, ma'am. Also — nice coffee selection."
(I really don't want to get involved with WPA. And did he just flirt with my mother?)
—
Behind the store, near the delivery alley, they stood in a triangle. A privacy barrier device hummed softly — field active. Axel's relaxed expression faded.
"You don't look clueless," Axel said. "And don't worry — we didn't trouble your mother. What's your age?"
"Seventeen," Sable answered.
Ava tapped her tablet and stepped forward. "I won't waste time," she said. "We came because of this."
She turned the screen.
Video played — the road crossing rescue. The dash. The grab. The blur.
Sable watched once.
(I forgot about cameras so Careless.)
He lifted his eyes calmly. "So?"
Ava's stare sharpened. "So you are a Player," she said. "And you hid it from WPA. You are not in the registry."
Her tone hardened. "Using skills inside city limits without registration is a crime."
Sable nodded once. "I understand," he said. "Using skills in the city is illegal."
He met her gaze evenly. "But that was an emergency. Unlike patrol teams who were not present."
Ava's jaw tightened.
"About registration," Sable continued. "I only recently turned seventeen. Before that, I was sixteen. Not eligible for independent Player registration."
"Even if I wanted to apply, I couldn't. Delay is not a crime."
A faint blue mana glow rose around Ava's hand.
Axel quickly raised his palm. "Easy. Both of you," Axel said to ava"You're breaking conduct rules."
Ava exhaled sharply. The glow faded — but her glare stayed locked on Sable.
Behind the store, the privacy field hummed softly around them.
Dust drifted in slow circles near their feet. The narrow alley was empty — outside sound completely sealed. Even the city noise felt distant.
Axel folded his arms, watching Sable with a half-smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Let's say we understand your situation," Axel said. "So — are you going to register or not? Like it or not, Players must register."
Sable met his gaze without flinching. His breathing stayed steady, shoulders relaxed.
"It's my choice whether I register today or later," Sable replied calmly. "I've been busy with personal matters, so I didn't make time."
He adjusted his sleeve neatly.
"And I'm still a student. Registration procedures are not simple for minors."
(It's actually simple. I just don't want your leash.)
Ava clicked her tongue, arms crossed.
"This kid is annoying," Ava said flatly. "Why did the boss send us for this?"
Axel ignored her. His eyes never left Sable.
"Can we measure your rank right now?" Axel asked.
Sable froze for a fraction of a second — then loosened again. Calm face. Neutral eyes.
"I already told you," Sable said before Axel could continue. "My skill is Taming. I'm not useful to any guild or to WPA, sir."
His tone stayed polite — intentionally respectful.
Axel's smile deepened slightly.
"My, my," Axel said. "But our little Ava noticed something else."
Ava's eyes narrowed further, still locked on Sable like a blade tip.
"And that makes things difficult," Axel added. "My boss personally requested this visit."
(Troublesome. If I'm right, Blast Guild leadership is directly tied to WPA operations.)
Sable exhaled slowly.
"You don't need to measure my rank unofficially," Sable said. "I'll tell you myself. I'm F-rank."
Ava turned her head with visible disappointment.
"This is a waste of time," Ava said.
Axel raised one finger.
"Kid," Axel said lightly, "did anyone teach you not to trust self-declared ranks?"
Sable looked at him straight.
"Are you saying I'm lying?" Sable asked.
Axel shrugged, friendly tone returning.
"I'm saying people misunderstand their rank after awakening. It happens often," Axel said. "That's why WPA uses certified devices."
Sable studied his expression carefully — micro-movements, eye focus, stance.
"Who told you about me?" Sable asked.
Axel's eyes flickered with amusement. He changed the topic smoothly.
"Do you know the city's current situation?" Axel asked.
Sable answered without hesitation.
"I read the news," Sable said. "WPA and Blast Guild are unstable right now because the CEO died."
He tapped his temple lightly.
"The new CEO is his daughter… I forgot her name."
Ava stepped forward sharply. Mana pressure rose around her like cold mist.
"Watch your mouth," Ava said. "Do you know who you're talking about?"
Sable didn't step back. His eyes moved once — reading posture, mana density, breath rhythm.
"You're at least B-rank," Sable said calmly. "Possibly A-rank."
He nodded toward Ava's glowing hand.
"That mana control is compact and stable. Not rookie level."
His gaze shifted to their badges.
"And your badge color code isn't standard field officer grade."
A short pause.
"You're directly connected to Blast Guild operations," Sable concluded. "So should I be scared?"
Axel laughed under his breath.
(This kid is dangerously observant.)
"Believe whatever theory you like," Axel said. "Here's the reality — you can't hide your skill forever."
He tapped the barrier device lightly.
"For now, we can pretend you're F-rank."
His tone grew firmer.
"But once you enter a Player Academy, your real rank will show. Growth reveals truth."
Sable looked bored. He rubbed the back of his neck.
"I'm a poor kid from a small store," Sable said. "Player Academy costs money. A lot of money. I can't afford it."
(And the academy is the main disaster stage. Too many events. Too many deaths. No safe path there.)
He turned slightly toward the store door.
"My shift isn't over yet," Sable said. "May I go now?"