Divine Celebrity 155 (Patreon)

As I arrived at the outer rungs of the city, the first thing I noticed was the name change. 

Sunset City, the name read, followed by another statement. In remembrance of Sunset College. 

I couldn’t help but feel fascinated by the cursed nature of the name. But, I was even more fascinated by the changes in the city. 

Or, more accurately, a lack of it. The city was more lifeless, half of the buildings already empty, showing the sudden disappearance of the college affected the city badly. Furthermore, from the number of billboards that proudly declared that the city itself was fallout-free, the reputation as a site next to a nuclear dump site clearly didn’t help the city. 

The fact that there was even a city was a benefit. However, while the nuclear rumors affected the city greatly, I was truly shocked by everything else. 

Particularly, just how utterly same everything was. I expected things to be much more horrible, panicking, and dangerous. At least, people should have been panicking about giant monsters, right?

But none of those had been happening. 

Suspicious. 

But just as I had been thinking about it, I felt a flicker of mental pressure, one that asked me to ignore the extraordinary, that anything absurd should be a figment of my imagination, fake videos, or a conspiracy theory. 

It was weak and fleeting, even weaker than the magical effect of the nuclear warning. 

But it was not targeted at me, but the whole city … maybe even larger. 

“No wonder people are not questioning why there was a nuclear disaster in a college with no experimental nuclear program,” I said to myself. Particularly if that wave of suggestion that forced people to ignore the supernatural occurred periodically. 

“Now that it’s resolved, let’s go on to the next task.” Since I was already dressed as a homeless person, I decided to start the easiest way possible. Digging through the trash for newspapers. I ignored the familiar sense of disgust. It was a common activity of my childhood, trying to dig something useful when I ended up in the streets. 

A need that had disappeared once I had developed my chess hustle. 

Tough times. 

However, it didn’t take long for me to ignore those bittersweet memories. All I needed was to grab a newspaper. 

And check the date. 

Based on the changes in the environment, I was able to put the approximate difference of time somewhere between seven to eight months. It turned out to be correct, with a very minor difference. 

A minor difference of two years. 

It had been two years, seven months, and four days, to be exact. 

“Almost three years of my life, gone,” I murmured shocked as I leaned against the wall, trying to get a hood of the shock. Admittedly, it didn’t take long, mostly because my gaze dipped down, and noticed a certain picture on the first page, covering half of the page. 

‘Local hero saves a bus full of children from a mutated beast,’ the headline read, but I was more interested in the picture. It showed a man dressed in a latex costume, displaying his sculpted muscles perfectly. The color itself was equally attention-grabbing, bright red and stylish black. 

Yet, all of those details were secondary. , despite the mask that covered the face, I recognized who was it. 

Thad. 

“Wow, that’s a face I didn’t expect to see,” I murmured as I read the news, which talked in great detail about the mysterious Red Lightning saving innocents once again. 

But then, considering the way they disappeared, maybe I shouldn’t have been too surprised. 

As much as I wanted to dig deeper, I decided to ignore it for a moment, and started digging through the news. First, I read about the ethical implications of genetically enhanced people … which seemed to be the excuse for the abilities of the heroes. 

Admittedly, it sounded more reasonable than magic. 

I ignored a lengthy discussion about whether corporate-sponsored heroes were beneficial, or a menace to society, and instead focused on other news… About the fallout site in the Egyptian Pyramids. The news piece itself was about something unrelated, so I ignored it, instead focusing on the so-called existence of another fallout site. 

“I wish I had a computer,” I said, but as much as I was tempted to break into a house, or at least a public library, I held myself back. I didn’t want to take any risks. I decided to wait until the morning and kept myself limited to the newspapers and other discarded reading material. 

Slowly piecing together a timeline. 

First of all, there were quite a number of references to the Day of Disaster. According to the news, it was a day when a mysterious global terrorist organization delivered several simultaneous terrorist attacks using dirty bombs across several historical sites, to show their supremacy of the new world order. 

I ignored other news about the terrorist group, which might or might not be fictional, but certainly did not use nuclear weapons around the land. Knowing the situation in the old campus, I didn’t need the Divine Mind to deduce they had used the exact same excuse for all locations. 

Admittedly, dirty bombs were a good excuse. They wouldn’t create any explosion — other than a small conventional bomb to spread the nuclear material — but the aftermath would be enough to justify blocking access. 

And, why the historical sites … almost certainly about magic. Even by digging in the garbage, I saw many different locations, Egyptian and Mayan pyramids, Stonehenge, Mount Olympus, the ruins of Troy, the Chinese Imperial Palace, several Buddhist temples, as well as a great number of historical Churces and other religious locations. 

Clearly matching the idea of ancient gods. Interesting challenge. 

As I dug deeper, I could see that it was not it. There were also many attacks, explained by convenient mutations. Was that scientific, certainly not. But it was a good excuse for no doubt magical disasters, while the periodical spell — which now I suspected to be a global phenomenon — kept people from panicking about them. 

Even if those beasts had a habit of destroying modern religious buildings almost exclusively. 

“A complete coincidence, no doubt,” I said with a chuckle as I continued to dig through the discarded papers, trying to create a better timeline. Soon, I realized the initial days a lot of locations had turned into battlefields, but in most cases, the conventional military was able to handle it. 

And, whenever they failed … so-called genetically enhanced heroes intervened and saved them. The news made it look like they were the reason for humanity’s continued safety more than the military, but whether it was the truth or just the media spin was another point. 

I had already seen them using fame like I did … to a lesser degree, of course. 

So, I continued to read the snippets about true heroes, trying to get a handle on their numbers. At first, I expected a dozen or two. Maybe a few hundred at most... But the more I read, the more I realized the absurdity of their numbers. Even from the peripheral references, I could easily deduce that their numbers were already in the hundreds just in America, and reaching thousands globally. 

And, that was only the public face. Who knew just how many other people existed behind the scenes aware of magic. 

Regardless of the result, the outlook made me glad that I tried to hide the truth about my abilities. Though, that satisfaction certainly didn’t extend to keeping my guide suppressed. It would be an exaggeration to say I regretted the decision with her clearly displayed habit of pushing me to the center. Who knew how she would react if she was able to react properly during the Day of Disaster. 

But I wished I tried to find a way that wouldn’t have ended up with me in a coma for almost four years. No wonder I wasn’t generating any intent. Who would remember a college player who won a bunch of lower-division games before dying in an alleged terrorist attack? 

Sad, certainly, but ultimately, nothing important. 

There were other ways of getting famous, ways that I could apply carefully and steadily, carefully and steadily planning each step until…

[Daily Intent Requirement Unmet. System resources consumed for maintenance]

[System Damage — 1%]

“Fuck, the system has perfect timing…” I said as my thoughts were interrupted by incredible timing. A sigh escaped my mouth as I looked down, my clothing even more homeless-chic after digging through for hours to get a sense of the news. 

I needed to move fast. 

First step. My identity. 

I needed to find a way to explain my sudden reappearance after four years, and I needed to do that incredibly quickly….