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                                                                                             Nathan
                                                                      Year 2849 | Month 10 | Day 22

I just stare at the men from my place on the other side of the river as their private conversation reaches my ears. While trying to ignore the delicious scent of the man still staring me down with a gun.

“If I had to guess,” the leader mutters, “I’d say he’s probably some poor soul who stumbled into the Dark Forest and ended up being changed by the miasma inside of it or something.”

Huh? That’s a thing?

Miasma is nothing but a byproduct of death mana. It doesn’t have the power to mutate someone. Only poison mana can do that when conjoined with another type of mana. Like that skeleton did to me with poison mana and death mana.

“You sure that’s possible?” another one asks, sounding nervous. The leader then turns to him with a shrug and says, “That’s the only explanation I can think of for why the man’s lost his memories and has bloodlust.”

Wait, wait, wait… lost my memories? Do they really think I lost my memories just because I don’t know what their little city is?

As if hearing my thoughts, another one asks, “How are you so sure he’s lost his memories? He could be a spy acting like he doesn’t know our city so that he can get in and sabotage us for Darkin.”

Okay, misunderstandings and random guesses or not, this is getting me a lot of knowledge.

Despite my joy at that, I can’t help but grit my teeth due to the intoxicating scent coming from the man. So I back away a couple of steps, which prompts the man to tighten his grip on the gun and say, “Don’t move!”

The others seem to hear his shout and glance back, just to see me with my arms raised to placate the man. If for no other reason than to get more information from them as they speak.

That said, I don’t know these people, and would rather not come to blows with them. Even if I’d be the clear winner, seeing as I don’t sense any mana from them. Meaning that none of them are magicians.

Which also prompts the question of why they’re out here if they’re not magicians. It could mean that whatever cities these people are talking about don’t have magicians. It could mean that magicians are rare and aren’t used carelessly. Or it could just mean that whatever city these guys are from is just a weak one, assuming there’s more than just this Darkin thing and their city.

“I don’t think he’s a spy. His reaction was too natural, and the fact that he looked genuinely surprised at our appearance points towards him not having expected us,” the leader says before glancing at me. Or more accurately, at my crimson eyes, which have stopped glowing now that I’ve gotten some more distance between me and the man, and now that the wind has changed direction to blow towards him. “Not to mention that sending some sort of mutated man with bloodlust as a spy doesn’t sound like a smart plan.”

He has a point there.

And the others seem to think that as well as the rest of the resistance towards believing me to have amnesia fade away. So I guess I just got a convenient excuse and method to get information here.

“What should we do about him then?” one of the men asks with a glance in my direction, only to find me still with my arms raised.

The leader scratches his chin before glancing at me as well and saying, “Well, I think we should take him in. He would likely make for a good hunter, considering his weapons that I’d hope aren’t just for show.” He then turns to look at the others again as he adds, “But that’s of course after we quarantine him for a few days to make sure he isn’t a threat somehow or is infected with a virus or something.”

Seriously?

Guess if they do that then I can just… actually, there isn’t anything I can do. My mana arcs are still developing again, so I can’t train them for another couple of weeks. And without my terminal, I can’t work on my spells. In fact, I completely lost access to the spell I was working on before since it was stored in the cloud on the terminal. So unless I get another terminal, then I won’t be able to access it. Or any of my other spells for that matter.

The other ones I have memorized though, so they’re not a problem at least.

After a little bit more debate between the men, they all eventually decide on doing what the leader suggested and quarantining me for a week before having me work as a hunter for them. Then they make their way back to us and offer that very same thing to me, to which I act as if I hadn’t just heard them and tentatively agree with them.

One benefit to being quarantined like this that I’ve thought of is that it’ll give me time to come to terms with my changes. To everything, really. The fact that I’m no longer directly under the doctor’s thumb, or the skeleton’s, or anyone else’s. Even these men, I could easily get away from if I wanted to.

The fact that I’m no longer human stings a little, but I’m not sure if I could’ve been considered human before either. Not considering my immortality.

Something else that’ll be nice is that – thanks to my new hearing – I should be able to get plenty of information about these people and our surroundings while quarantined. As long as they don’t put me too far away that is.

There is still one more obstacle before that though. Because I will not be giving them my weapons.

I press the button on my storage spell, causing the rift to the plane of fire to open up, shocking the men before I put my weapons into the portal and close it back up. But even after that, most of them are all just staring at me.

There’s no reason to hide that I’m a magician, and if it really does make it so that I can’t continue with the plan, then I’ll just run away now and spy on them. But I’d rather keep good relations with them. At least until I know what the situation around us is.

“You’re a magician…” the leader mutters, the only one of the men to not be shocked into silence. Although he is pretty clearly still shocked.

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