"Portman, what is this?"

"Sir."

"You two get a call, you two take the case. You know the spin. It's that simple. Do you have an issue with that?"

"No, sir."

"Look, I see. is a teenager who has run away from home. It's a hassle, but someone has to deal with it. ”

“… Sir, if I'm not mistaken, that father is your personal friend, right?"

"I'm busy. Let's get to work. ”

I tapped the screen and ended the call, Matt's last words still ringing in my ears. He's a jerk at times, but he's usually smart and he's in charge. I don't want to know the answer at this point. I certainly didn't get much sleep, though. Especially when a migraine suddenly hit me.

I put my phone down, plugged it in, leaned back in my chair, closed my eyes, and a headache welled up in my head. The glow of the screen in front of me pierced my eyelids and annoyed me greatly. I lifted one foot and turned them off one by one with my toes. Luckily darkness returned to the room, and the only sound was white noise from my desktop fan. On any other day, they're annoying to me too, and they're much louder than they need to be – but today, I wanted something to mask out all the background noise.

I'm back, and I hate every damn second. The world sucks.

Not even the smell is right. It smells too clean and too fake. I've missed the dense forests and majestic mountains, castles and villages, market squares and festivals. yes, it may smell bad for a while, but in the end, it's still quite charming. It had more character than my dusty room. And the people.

O God, O people. At its best, they're actually fun, have stories to tell, and have lives that really matter. At worst, I have a lot of ways to deal with them.

Tomorrow is going to be really bad. I didn't like school from the beginning. I always felt like it was a waste of time. I already knew everything I needed to know, but I had to sit there listening to lectures and lessons while the teachers nagged endlessly. I had to wade through a bunch of crap just to get a few pieces of really useful information. The internet has taught me more than they have ever done to me.

Despair left a solace in my mind. I'm online again. Once you've lived without electricity for years, you'll truly realize what a beautiful, awesome invention it is. With just a few taps on a plastic keyboard, I can instantly communicate with anyone, anywhere in the world.

I had just returned from a world where the fastest way to communicate (excluding adventure and the consumption of magical talents) was horseback riding, and the idea was shocking. Organizing soldiers hundreds of miles apart into an effective combat force is difficult in itself, and horses get tired faster than you might think. The lands I helped conquer can attest to that.

I was sitting, reminiscing about past battles, when suddenly there was a knock on my bedroom door.

Oh, shit.

"Carl?"

Oh, shit. It's my dad.

"Carl, what are you doing so late?"

Can I pretend I'm really asleep? The lights are off. I doubt he actually came. This seems to be the best option.

"I heard you. You know you can't stay asleep so late. ”

Ignore him. Continue to ignore him.

"We'll talk about that tomorrow, young man." I heard him walk away, heavy footsteps fading into the night.

Young men? Does he know who he's talking to? I can

No, wait. I can't. I don't feel that way anymore.

Without warning, tears had formed in my eyes. I cried silently. I've been feeling this way since I woke up. Slowly, steadily, it accumulated, like a tidal wave rolling in and waves rushing higher and higher. Everything I've worked for, I've worked so hard to train...... It's all gone. Overnight, I went from being one of the most feared people in many kingdoms to being a ...... This way.

I raised one arm and opened my eyes to examine it closely. It's thin and weak. Of course, I can lift quite a few things. I'm not very weak, but relatively ......

I decided to do something. I wiped tears from my eyes. I leaned forward and turned the screen back on. It's time to get to work. I need information. I need to know what just happened.

I started taking notes. We apparently disappeared in one place and came back in another, only a few hours apart. In such a short period of time, seven years have passed. We grew up and changed physically and mentally, but the physical changes were completely gone. All this can be easily explained by magic, for better or for worse. Magic was real in Serravel, somehow leaking out, trapping us in its web for seven years. The best seven years of my life.

Damn it.

I went to search engines, but as I expected, my search was in vain. Every kind of "Cy" I can think of

aveil" all brought only the results I expected: articles about the park and the forest inside. I skimmed through it, but found no clues. Anyway, I started organizing my bookmark folder for future use. I expanded my search to add a few small details about the world on the other side, only to get empty results or vague connections to fantasy novels and games that I already knew were useless.

In a way, though, I'm happy. Despite being neglected for years, I am still familiar with the internet. I may not find anything, but at least I know how not to look for it. I dug into old forums and old message boards looking for posts from years ago. It felt like working with Reinier again, digging up ancient scrolls in the basement of the castle. I'm getting more and more desperate now, and with that comes a kind of paranoia.

Matt is right, we need to be careful. If people don't believe us, we're definitely going to be in a psychiatric hospital. I shudder at the thought of this. Trapped in a colorless, faded building, clean and barren, with no freedom, and the whole world thinks you're a messy person? I'd rather kill myself.

But there is another extreme. What if they really believe us? We could be hunted down by anyone. There are many governments that may seize this opportunity to develop a whole new world full of valuable resources. And magic? What world power doesn't want magic to be on its side?

No, I'm going to have to cover my tracks. I enabled all the security measures available at the time, routed connections through multiple private networks, and made sure everything was end-to-end encrypted. No one knows where my post came from.

I started replying to abandoned posts on old fantasy message boards from people who claimed to have really been to other worlds. Almost no one responded, and most users thought they were crazy or just spoofing. I don't belittle worlds because they have the wrong names, or some incorrect details. They may also have gone into hiding, as I did, or they may have gotten news from ill-informed peasants and savages. For those boards that are really old, those that go back before the millennium, I send emails as much as I can.

I turned everything on and turned off the screen again and slid back into bed. My brain is still spinning like a fan in my machine. Even though only a few minutes had passed, I was inexplicably angry because my phone didn't show immediate results, and emails from other travelers poured in, grateful to me and eager to contact me. Of course, I can reasonably remind myself that it's past two o'clock in the morning here, and it's past five o'clock in the morning on the East Coast, which is where most surfboards are. Few of these respondents are likely to be awake at this time, searching on the search board if they are still maintaining their accounts.

I can't help it. I need to find more people like me.

I tossed and turned, feeling as if there were hours, while my phone remained stubbornly silent. Then, with a buzzing and shaking, I heard my phone slip off the table and fall to the floor.

I jumped up from the bed and grabbed it eagerly.

It was 7 a.m. and my alarm went off.

＊＊＊

I didn't spend any time preparing for school. I only have a little time and I have a lot of other things to do before I leave.

I immediately went back online and checked every post I made. There were no replies or updates, but that's not surprising. I really just want to be reassured that I'm really getting the word out and I'm not dreaming. The internet doesn't lie.

Well, it does it a lot, and with pleasant malice, but it can't just erase my post from existence. After all, nothing can really be removed.

My mood is a little more relaxed now, and I take out my phone and try to gather my thoughts for the message that I couldn't send the night before. I rummaged through my contacts and found Blake, because his last name was Blake and he was at the bottom of the list. Sva

The last name Tholm is fantastic. I'm jealous. Much better than Stockson.

Even Jane and Matt's surnames are better than mine. Matthew Westin is ordinary, but you can also be intimidating if you have the right people behind you. After seeing Matt's job, trust me, he's the guy I'm looking for. I played well at my peak, but even if I'm still at my best, I think I can get a draw with him. Obviously, not so much now.

Even though Jane is Matt's younger sister, her last name is different from Matt's. Silve

Dale, the same as her mother's. Jenny ladle. Even her name is beautiful. I don't know the story behind this discrepancy, but it's fair to say that I had little idea of Jen's existence until that night, and I didn't see the real Jen until about six years later.

I regret not having met her sooner. Hindsight is 20-20.

Blake's name matches his accent well, and he was born and raised in Sweden. He was my best friend until the day they moved to Silicon Valley when he was ten years old. We met through an event at a small video game store, when we both appeared on the same day in the new expansion. After we broke up, I spent years looking for him, and now I feel like I'm back in the old days.

His father goes to work early in the morning, and his mother is a night nurse. None of them will be home a few hours before school. I pressed the "call" button and my phone started connecting to their home phone.

I imagined it ringing, echoing in their house. I can describe it perfectly – every step on the stairs, every turn in the upstairs hallway. The carpet is dark green, and the sofa is light blue. Blake's cat may be lounging on the landing in the middle of the stairs, soaking up the sun. Sometimes I feel more familiar with their home than my own.

Blake didn't get the call. When the bellmen gave up in vain, I heard Adela from their answering machine.

"Thank you for calling Swartham House. We're not here right now, so please leave a message and we'll get back to you as soon as possible. Thank you!"

I reminded myself over and over again that it didn't make sense. Blake may have gone. It's time for me to go to school myself. If I don't speed things up, I'm going to be late.

But I have to leave a word. If I just leave a blank information and my phone number in their caller ID record, then I'll have to deal with more follow-ups. It's best to transfer it now.

"Hi, I'm Carl. I just wanted to ask Blake something, but I guess he's already gone to school. Ignore me. ”

I stood up and went to get my bag. As my hand grabbed the strap and pulled hard, I felt a sharp pain in my arm. I winced and stared blankly at it. When I realized what was happening, my face started to heat up. It's embarrassing, even if no one sees my mistake.

Of course I can't lift it. I'm not strong anymore. My brain hadn't realized the atrophy of my muscles, that I was back in a weaker, younger body. I tried to pick up a bag stuffed with textbooks, laptops, school supplies, and notebooks. I have to work harder than before.

The heat on my face turned to frustrated anger. I shouldn't be like that. For my achievements, for the power I have gained, I have fought and shed blood. I went back to the miserable life I had long since left behind. I shouldn't be here. I don't belong here anymore.

My father has gone to work. My mom weeds her garden in the backyard. She left me a lunch on the kitchen table. She waved at me through the window. I grabbed the brown paper bag, waved at him, and turned to go out the door. As of now, I only have 15 minutes to get to the school, which will be a long jog.

Get out the door, get off the driveway, and onto the sidewalk. The suburbs are all around me, with their prosaic glory. Garbage trucks, billowing black smoke. The news helicopter flew overhead with heavy blades. There were hundreds of cars in the distance, and the non-stop female voices filled the rush hour. Every bit of noise annoys me even more. Some pleasant sounds, such as the chirping of birds and the rustle of the wind through the leaves that had not yet fallen, were drowned out by the sound of a man doing carpentry with a table saw in his garage, his door wide open. I glared at him as I walked by, but he didn't look up. Blake had always been proud of his woodwork, and he would have scolded the man for wasting money.

Blake.

I've been trying not to think about him. I expressed my vague hope to Matt the night before, but I knew I still had to mentally prepare for another option. I didn't expect to see him anytime soon. He took the bus from the other side of town every day, and I didn't see him until at least the second class. Matt should have bumped into him first in the first lesson. Matt can coordinate his plans and what we're going to do next.

What exactly is the plan? I haven't learned that much. I checked it that morning while I was getting dressed, but I haven't gotten a response yet. I could have done more digging tonight, but so far the internet seems to have let me down. The library will be my next stop. Somewhere, somewhere there will be an answer to what happened – and more importantly, how do we reverse it.

The way to school was faster than I expected or wanted. Every bend, every street I've spent in this stupid place over the past few years is etched in my mind.

When this school came into view, it became a symbol of everything I hated most about the world. My eyes scanned the entire campus and saw what I was seeing again. I thought I was getting rid of it forever. It was just a nightmare, and even then, over time, it was completely gone. Facing the hell I escaped from again almost overwhelmed me. If it weren't for Blake, Jane, and Matt waiting inside, I wouldn't have gone any further.

"Hey, Carl!"

I froze, but the voice wasn't unfriendly. It's Kyle, and I used to think of him as a friend. Someone I've forgotten about, and definitely not the first gathering I'm looking forward to today. I turned to greet him, and he handed me a thick book. Dungeons & Dragons Handbook.

"Sorry for taking so long to get it back," Kyle gasped. It was clear that he had been desperately chasing me. "Thank you. Having a hard copy was very helpful for our meetings. ”

"Of course." I took off my backpack and tucked it in. It barely fits, but it's actually insignificant compared to some of the tomes of magic I've read over the past seven years. Of course, with my current arm strength, it puts a threatening load on my shoulders. I had to throw some away when I went to the locker. I closed the door and continued walking.

Dungeons & Dragons seems too ...... right now It's stale. No amount of imagination and role-playing can imagine how terrifying dragons are in reality. The scorching heat of their breathing, or the violent gusts of wind every time they flap their wings. Awesome, in the most traditional sense of the word.

As for dungeons, I've been to a few and have many more. They often have no wealth, only other notable t-words: torture, terror and tyranny. It's not a fun place. I avoided them as much as I could.

"Are you alright, man?" He asked, standing next to me, waking me up from memory.

"What?"

"Worthless. You're just usually more talkative. ”

I didn't answer for a moment. Is it me? I tried to build a completely different image in Serraville. I had to struggle to remember who I was. Conversation is something I usually leave to my advisors and servants. Matt's reminder crept back into my head. We don't know if we're safe yet. I had to maintain a certain level of normalcy. "How's the meeting?"

"Nonsense. They argued over the rules in one fight. It took us hours to read it. But it helps to have this book at hand. It's much easier to flip between actual pages than to scroll on an ebook. ”

"Why don't you open an e-book in multiple windows at the same time?"

"Because software is just a piece of, won't let me use it?"

"You know, you can overturn that.

"Is that okay?"

“Sel

ou。 ”

Kyle stared at me. "Huh?"

Nonsense. Wrong language. I'm used to talking to Jane and to the concise Etoli that I learned from her

e。 "It's simple. I'll teach you how to do it when I have time. ”

"Cool". Kyle looked around and watched as other groups of students poured in. The bus has already left and most of the children are already inside. "Hey, did you see Blake?"

My throat tightened. It took me a few seconds to put it back together. "You know he's on the bus, right?"

"Him?"

"Yes. He lives on the other side of Melbridge. It's right next to the exit ramp. ”

"Oh. Well. I thought he lived nearby. I always see him walk like this. ”

I shook my head. "He comes to my house a lot."

"Ahh

We continued to walk silently for a while. Kyle kept looking around, as if he wasn't comfortable with me. This bothers me. We've been friends for years, haven't we?

But I've changed. I'm not me anymore. I would have sent that poor boy away long ago. I replaced him with a stronger one.

He reminded me of what I really needed to do. Who knows where my next lead will come from? No matter how likely it is, I have to look for every possible path.

"Hey, Kyle......" I said nonchalantly. Do you know Serraville Park?"

"Really? What's wrong?" He didn't sound suspicious, but I could tell it at a glance. I interrogated thousands of people. I negotiated with the best diplomats and aristocrats in the country. It's all his body language. His head turned subtly, and his eyes quickened. His posture slipped a little and he was defended. He had something to hide, and he hid it badly.

"Have you been there at night?" I asked kindly.

"Ah, why?"

"Just curious."

Kyle swallowed loudly. He looked around again. "Yes, sometimes".

Bingo. I'm circling around my opponent right now, ready to strike. Kyle is a good bully. He will speak in a matter of seconds. I lowered my voice a bit. Bossy. That's the tone, that's what Reinier said. "Say it, Kyle."

“… You're not going to tell anyone, are you?"

"Of course not." What's the use of that?

A sudden look of embarrassment appeared on his face. "Me and Kersey snuck out...... Hmmm......"

Disappointment came at me like a mace. I hope to have more to come. Now I just have a stuttering child in love, and there's nothing useful to tell me.

"Ahh I patted him on the shoulder. "Alright. She's lovely. Good for you. ”

I meant it, but I think I was a bit condescending when I said it. Kyle becomes irritable. "As if you're doing better."

"Oh, you don't know," I replied thoughtfully, remembering the woman.

Kyle rolled his eyes. "Three-dimensional female, dude."

"More 3D than you. The hair is like a glowing furnace, and there are more curves than a roller coaster. "Still a spear-wielding killer, a racist through and through, but he doesn't need to know that.

"What's the name of this imaginary beauty?"

“Aud O

u

dotti

。 ”

He raised an eyebrow. "Fantasy Viking woman?"

I laughed. To be honest, I don't know how the Selman family could have so many Nordic-style names. The people there speak nothing but English (or, in their words, Li

gue

Nothing will be said otherwise. A piece of their history that I still want to uncover, probably buried in a pile of scrolls underneath my house. "No, I've forgotten about her."

"Too strange for you?" Kyle grinned.

I sighed. "This pun became obsolete a few years ago."

"It's great to see that you're so loyal to the girl of your dreams, and to be by her side for so many years."

"Hey, when I promise, I promise." It's true, even if it comes back to bite my ass. He ended up leaving me, not the other way around. I'm grateful that she didn't decide to pierce my spine with a spear before leaving. "But we digress. A kind of coarse flannel, huh?"

Kyle's expression quickly turned back into embarrassment. "Yes."

I don't really remember the girl other than what she looked, but that's not a reason why I don't support her. Kyle needs that boost. "She looks like a good fit for you. Congratulations. ”

"Thanks, I guess?"

"Are you guys?"

I thought his face couldn't be redder anymore, but he proved me wrong. “… What the hell, Carl?"

"What?"

Kyle shook his head. "It doesn't matter". When the bell rang for five minutes, he looked up. ". I need to get to class early today. Good bye. He sped away, hurried through the front door, and left me alone.

Oh yes. I became one of the neurotic virgins again. I shouldn't be so confident or assertive. To Kyle, I must have sounded like someone else entirely at the end.

Still, it was better than I expected. Maybe I can start over without anyone noticing. At least until we figure out how to go back. I reached into my bag over my shoulder and flipped through the books and papers. I put everything there the night before to prepare for the next day. I am eternally grateful to my past self because I had a vision because I didn't know what to bring today. With all this, combined with my memories of what classes I took seven years ago (vaguely admittedly), I have reason to believe that I can at least crap a few days of class. I hope there will be enough time for us to leave.

I walked through the front door and realized it was a ridiculous idea. At the intersection of the two wings of the school, with classrooms on both sides, there is only one room number that can give me any information. Each one seems exactly the same to me.

I had absolutely no idea where my first class was.