“So, who wants to enter the sewers first?” I asked, doing my best to sound as casual and nonchalant as possible.


    Both Leo and Jade turned to me with synchronized looks of sheer horror and disbelief. It was as if I’d just suggested we kick a puppy—or worse, that we adopt a sewer rat as a pet—not that I’d ever do such a thing.


    “Ew,” Leo made a sound so disgusted and unnatural, it barely seemed human. Meanwhile, Jade’s face scrunched up in visible revulsion as she tried to read my expression, probably hoping I wasn’t serious.


    It didn’t take long for me to realize why they were reacting this way. I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. Of course, this was their reaction. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had them so repulsed.


    “It’s not the sanitary sewer,” I clarified, “We’re not diving into raw sewage here. That would be suicidal—what with the toxic gases and, you know, all the other delightful things swirling around down there. We’re entering the storm drain system, completely different from the sewer system. The city planned it this way—big, open, dry most of the time. It’s built to handle the massive supernatural storms that roll in from the ocean. Rainwater goes in, water gets drained out. Simple.”


    Leo blinked at me, his head tilting slightly as though trying to process this new information. “So… no poop?”


    “No poop,” I said firmly.


    Jade crossed her arms, still looking skeptical. “And no… other stuff?”


    “Correct. No other stuff.”


    They exchanged a look, clearly still a little grossed out but no longer on the verge of outright mutiny.


    I leaned back slightly, shaking my head. “Honestly, how do you two not know this? We all studied city infrastructure in school. Did you sleep through that entire semester?”


    Leo rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding my gaze. “I mean… yeah, kind of.”


    Jade shrugged. “It wasn’t on the test.”


    I rolled my eyes. “This is why people think the world’s ending when they see a storm drain overflow during a downpour. It’s literally doing its job, but nope—‘end of days’ panic.”


    Leo raised his hand like a kid in class. “Uh, to be fair, it does look kinda scary.”


    “Thank you, Professor Doom,” I muttered, shooting him a look.


    We walked along the road until we reached the storm drain. The three of us stood around the heavy manhole cover, its surface scuffed and weathered from years of wear. With a shared nod, we crouched down, gripping the edges and carefully lifting it together. It came free with a metallic groan, revealing a dark void below. The faint sound of running water echoed up to greet us, carrying a cool, damp breeze that smelled faintly of mildew and rain-soaked concrete.


    By my calculations, there shouldn’t have been much water inside—nothing dangerous, at least. But then again, storm drains had a way of surprising you.


    “Remember,” I said firmly, looking at both Leo and Jade. “We’re going down to investigate. If we sense any danger, we hide. Then we get back up immediately. No hesitation.”


    “I mean it,” I continued, locking eyes with Jade in particular. Her confidence was a double-edged sword. “No lone hero stunts, no wandering off. We stick together.”


    “I got it,” Jade replied, waving me off. “Relax, mom.”


    Leo snorted, but my glare silenced him quickly.


    Bringing Leo along was already a stretch, and I knew it bordered on irresponsibility. He didn’t have a meta nature yet, and there were countless ways this could go wrong. But if he wanted to learn, he had to start somewhere. A part of me wondered if I should’ve waited—given him more time to grow, to discover his abilities. He had four years to build his portfolio for the academy. What was the rush? But then again, people like Henry, Alex, Vinico, Gina, and Lore must have faced similar challenges before they became the legends they were at Beyonder’s Academy. Growth didn’t come from sitting comfortably—it came from stepping into the unknown, even the dangerous.


    I took the lead, gripping the cold metal rungs of the ladder as I descended into the storm drain. The air grew damper with each step, the smell thickening into a cocktail of mildew, rust, and wet stone. It clung to my skin like an unwelcome second layer, making me want to peel it off.


    Leo came down last, his footsteps hesitant on the rungs. “Is it just me,” he whispered nervously, “or does it feel like we’re walking into the start of a horror movie?”


    “It’s not a horror movie,” I said, glancing over my shoulder at him. “In horror movies, people split up. We’re smarter than that, right?”


    Leo didn’t look entirely convinced, but he nodded anyway. “Right… smarter than that.”


    When we reached the bottom, our shoes splashed softly against the damp concrete floor. The dim light from above barely penetrated the darkness, but the beam from my flashlight cut through the shadows, illuminating the tunnel ahead. The storm drain was wide enough to stand comfortably, with thick concrete walls streaked by years of water stains. Tiny rivulets of water trickled along the edges, feeding into shallow pools that shimmered under the flashlight’s glow.


    “See?” I said, gesturing to the relatively dry path ahead. “Not so bad.”


    “Speak for yourself,” Jade quipped, adjusting her footing to avoid a puddle. “This place feels like it’s been waiting for something to crawl out and grab us.”


    Leo shivered at her words, his eyes darting nervously around the tunnel. “Not helping.”


    I sighed, pressing forward. “Alright, keep it down. If there’s anyone down here, we don’t want to announce ourselves. Stay close.”


    After a few minutes, Leo complained again, "It smells so bad” .


    “Didn’t you want to be a hero?” I scoffed, glancing back at him. “You can still go back up and wait for us to return.”


    Leo shook his head stubbornly, his expression a mix of determination and disgust. “No way. I’m not chickening out.”


    “Suit yourself,” I said with a shrug,


    I led the way with the flashlight, keeping my steps steady and quiet. Leo followed in the middle, his nose still wrinkled in distaste, and Jade brought up the rear, her movements light and calculated.


    “What are we looking for though?” Leo asked after a few moments, his voice echoing faintly in the damp tunnel.


    “Small animals,” I replied, keeping my eyes trained on the path ahead. “Mice, cockroaches, snakes, bugs—anything that might be controlled by a meta nature. If we see them heading in a certain direction, we follow.”


    “Great,” Leo muttered under his breath. “Because this couldn’t get creepier.”


    The air hung heavy with moisture, each breath carrying the faint taste of mildew and rust. Water dripped intermittently from above, the sound punctuating the steady trickle of the stream running down the center. Our footsteps echoed softly against the wet, uneven surface, the tunnel amplifying every sound until even the faintest shuffle seemed unnaturally loud.


    “Stay alert,” I said softly, my voice firm but calm. “The quieter it gets, the more we need to watch out.”


    Leo’s eyes widened slightly, and he glanced around as if expecting something to leap out of the shadows. “Why quieter?” he asked, his voice dropping to match mine.


    “Because if there’s something down here, it’ll go quiet to listen for us,” I explained. “Predators don’t make noise unless they’re ready to strike.”


    Immediately, Leo shivered glancing around and Inched closer to me.


    We wandered through the tunnels in near silence, our footsteps echoing faintly as we turned left and right at random intersections. By the time an hour had passed, I checked my phone and realized we’d walked over three kilometers. Despite the distance, we’d found nothing remotely interesting. The tunnels were eerily quiet, with the steady trickle of water flowing peacefully down the center as our only constant companion. Occasionally, we spotted mice or rodents scurrying along the edges, but they were quick to vanish into cracks and crevices, too elusive for us to follow. Leo had tried once, crouching down and calling softly to a mouse like it might stop and have a chat, but the creature darted off before he even finished saying, “Hey, little guy!”


    Still, there was a strange feeling gnawing at the back of my mind. It was as if something—someone—was watching us. Not directly, but through the eyes of those mice or through something unseen. The thought lingered for a moment before I dismissed it.


    The world doesn’t revolve around us, I reminded myself. I wasn’t the main character in some grand, secret narrative where every shadow hid a spy or every mouse carried a hidden camera. If I were, I’d probably never leave my house, too paranoid about stumbling into an incredible conspiracy or being dragged into a decades-long underground scheme.


    That kind of life sounded exhausting. Constant battles, endless stress—who even had the mental stamina for that? Only people lacking serious self-reflection could survive such chaos.


    Fortunately, everyone had their own lives.


    Things happened and the world kept turning, whether I existed or not.


    It was a comforting thought, one that helped me shake off the paranoia as we trudged forward.


    Eventually, we climbed out through another manhole, emerging into the fresh evening air. It felt oddly liberating after the damp, oppressive atmosphere of the tunnels. I checked my phone again to get our bearings and realized we were about five kilometers from where we’d started.


    “We’ve searched quite a bit today,” I told Jade and Leo, brushing off my hands. “Next time, we’ll cover other sections of the tunnel.”


    That said, I wasn’t confident our aimless wandering would yield any results. Without clear clues or leads, we were just running in circles. What we needed was someone to follow—preferably a member of the Tunnel Underground gang. An idea began to form in my mind, but I decided to save it for the next day. Meanwhile, Jade had begun sniffing herself and her clothes, her nose wrinkling in obvious disgust. She looked up at me with her signature innocent expression, her silver eyes wide and imploring. “Me and my clothes—both smell!” she declared, her voice carrying just the right amount of melodrama.


    Her face was so adorably pitiful that I found myself staring, caught off guard by the sheer cuteness of her complaint.


    “Well,” I said, snapping myself out of it before Leo could catch me zoning out. “We’re all going home now, and unfortunately, I don’t have any self-cleaning powers, so I don’t have a solution for you.”


    She pouted, crossing her arms as if my lack of magical hygiene abilities was somehow a personal failing.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    After thinking for a moment, I suggested, “How about we book a hotel for the night? Just to take a bath and freshen up.”


    Jade’s face lit up immediately, her earlier pout vanishing like it had never existed. “Yes! Let’s do that!”


    Leo perked up as well, nodding enthusiastically. “Please. I can’t show up at home smelling like I crawled through a dumpster.”


    I nodded. It wasn’t the ideal solution, but it was the best we had. At least we’d end the day clean—and I wouldn’t have to come up with an excuse to Aunt Grace for why I smelled like I’d been rolling around in a sewer.


    <hr>


    Dinner at home with Aunt Grace was quiet, the occasional clink of utensils and the faint dialogue of her favorite TV drama filling the air. She seemed preoccupied with whatever plot twist was unraveling on-screen, so I was grateful she wasn’t bombarding me with questions about where I’d been all day.


    The silence was oddly comforting, but it didn’t last. As I got up to wash the dishes, Aunt Grace’s voice cut through the quiet.


    “You know,” she began, her tone light but laced with curiosity. “When I came home earlier, it smelled quite nice. Like someone secretly brought a girl home.”


    My grip on the plate faltered slightly, but I recovered quickly, turning to her with the most nonchalant expression I could muster. “Must be your nose,” I replied, my voice as casual as I could manage.


    Her eyebrow rose, her gaze sharpening. “Oh, really?”


    I nodded firmly, dodging her probing stare as I darted toward the sink. “Maybe you’re just imagining things,” I added over my shoulder, scrubbing a plate with slightly more enthusiasm than necessary.


    Grace let out a huff of mild irritation, but I could tell she wasn’t buying it. “Hmm. I don’t imagine things, you know.”


    “Well, there’s a first time for everything,” I quipped, hiding a smirk as I focused on the dishes.


    Her muttered response was lost beneath the sound of running water, but I could feel her eyes still on me as I finished cleaning up.


    By the time I escaped to my room, I couldn’t help but feel a small sense of victory. Grace might be sharp, but I wasn’t going to hand her ammunition that easily. At least, not tonight.


    <hr>


    After dinner, I spent the next two hours scrolling through HyperSpace, falling into my usual routine. I alternated between chatting with Jade, reading old posts about different meta natures, and scanning the news for anything that might be relevant. Every now and then, I’d search for mentions of magical meta natures—not common, but they popped up occasionally in discussions. I also checked my own post for replies. As expected, there were a few personal messages, most of which turned out to be scams. Over time, I’d gotten pretty good at spotting these grifters. Desperation, as they say, breeds ingenuity—and apparently, so does dealing with internet scammers.


    But one message stood out. The username, ‘DoingDirty,’ was… interesting, to say the least. Unlike the usual spam, the sender hadn’t asked for money—not upfront, at least. That was unusual.


    The message read:


    <blockquote>


    "I know a person with magical meta nature. Though, he’s a reclusive old man and hates company. But, nowadays, he’s searching for something. I recently had the pleasure to meet him personally and we talked, though I was unable to fulfill his request. I saw your post and thought perhaps you might be of some help with what he’s looking for. Hit me up if you want to go through."


    </blockquote>


    I stared at the message, rereading it carefully. The username alone should’ve been a red flag, but the content intrigued me. It was specific enough to sound legitimate—or at least not outright ridiculous.


    Still, caution came naturally these days. I tapped my fingers on the desk as I considered my options. The message wasn’t demanding money or personal details right away, and it didn’t seem to be one of those typical “enlarge your powers instantly” scams. But there was always the possibility it was a bait-and-switch.


    Jade’s chat pinged again, breaking my train of thought.


    Jade: What’s got you so quiet? Lost in the rabbit hole of HyperSpace again?


    Me: Maybe. Found a lead on something, but it smells a bit off.


    Jade: Everything on HyperSpace smells off. Comes with the territory.


    Me: True. But this one seems… interesting. Think I should bite?


    Jade: Why not? You’re not committing to anything just by replying. Besides, if it’s a scam, I’ll help you track down the grifter and scare them straight.


    Her casual confidence made me smile. Jade could turn anything into an adventure.


    Me: Alright, I’ll give it a shot. If I go missing, avenge me.


    Jade: You’re so dramatic.


    Shaking my head, I returned to the message from DoingDirty and clicked on the reply button.


    <blockquote>


    "I’m interested. Can you tell me more about this old man and what he’s looking for?"


    </blockquote>


    I hit send, then leaned back in my chair. Whether this would lead anywhere or not, it was better than aimlessly wandering tunnels without a plan. If nothing else, it would give me something to think about while I waited for tomorrow’s adventure to begin.


    After that I decided to log off for the night, it was already twelve.


    And when I logged in the next morning, I found a reply waiting for me from DoingDirty. I couldn’t help but chuckle at the username. Just don’t do me dirty in real life, I thought, opening the message.


    The content was straight to the point:


    <blockquote>


    "Glad you’re interested. The old man is looking for a way to extend his lifespan. He’s been searching for years and even went through the White Palace in recent years. You strike me as resourceful from your post. If you can help him, he might just owe you a big one."


    </blockquote>


    Extend his lifespan? My eyes lingered on the words, the weight of the task sinking in.


    Even with all humanity’s advancements—metahumans, miraculous genetics research, new tech—the human lifespan still had a limit. Two hundred years, give or take. Beyond that, death claimed its due, regardless of power or wealth. Life extension or immortality-related meta natures were extraordinarily rare, their existence carefully guarded by governments, corporations, and the most secretive of organizations.


    If this old man was searching so openly, he had to be desperate.


    I leaned back, drumming my fingers on the desk. I’d come across whispers during my time cycles—rumors of methods to extend life. Some sounded like myths, others like the sort of schemes desperate people clung to. I’d never pursued them. The burden of living through multiple cycles had been enough. Who would willingly sign up for more of this?


    Still, this was intriguing. If the old man had been searching for years, he might have accumulated information worth knowing—pieces of the puzzle I could use for my own purposes. A favor from someone with magical meta nature could be invaluable: protection spells, enhanced powers, or rare knowledge.


    I tapped out a reply quickly:


    <blockquote>


    "Can you provide me with the exact address or directions to meet this old sorcerer?"


    </blockquote>


    Barely a moment passed before my phone vibrated with a response:


    <blockquote>


    ‘742 Maplewood Drive.’


    </blockquote>


    I frowned slightly, recognizing the North district address. That area wasn’t just well-off—it was the kind of place where wealth practically radiated from the cobblestones. The old man was clearly rich, and if he could afford a house there, he’d likely made a fortune with his abilities.


    As for why the guy who messaged me was helping, three possibilities came to mind:


    First, he could simply be a troll, spinning an elaborate story for his own amusement, knowing he’d never have to face the fallout.


    Second, he might be acting as a middleman, hoping to curry favor or earn a reward from the sorcerer by bringing someone useful.


    And third—the most concerning—this could all be a trap. Perhaps there were people who wanted me dead for reasons I couldn’t yet fathom.


    The truth, however, could only be confirmed by going to the address.


    Still, I wasn’t overly concerned. My Likeness had been showing signs of growth and fortune recently, and I trusted my ability to handle whatever came my way. Why not? There weren’t many things that could deter me from my goals. Well, unless my Likeness decided to swap in a black coffin, dark fog, or ominous swords dripping with blood hanging overhead. Then I might reconsider.


    <hr>


    At the academy in the afternoon, I was enjoying lunch with Jade. She’d brought something homemade—an unusual occurrence—and her nervousness about having me taste it only made me more curious. She placed a small box on the table, her hands fidgeting slightly as she pushed it toward me. “Here,” she said, trying to sound casual but failing to hide the tension in her voice. Inside the box was a single cupcake, meticulously presented. She handed me a spoon, her silver eyes glued to my every movement. “It’s nothing fancy,” she muttered, clearly bracing herself for judgment.


    I picked up the spoon, taking a closer look at her creation. The texture looked spot-on, with a soft crumb and smooth frosting. Sliding the spoon through the cupcake, I cut a small slice and placed it in my mouth.


    Hazelnut.


    The taste was sweet, not just from the sugar, but from the effort and care she had poured into making it. I could tell she must have practiced this recipe several times to get it right—there wasn’t a single burned edge or inconsistency. This was no small feat for Jade.


    By the time I finished the cupcake, I realized I hadn’t actually said anything about it yet. Jade was still watching me intently.


    “It was very good,” I said finally, raising my hand and spreading my fingers wide for emphasis. “Five stars.”


    Her expression brightened, though she still seemed hesitant. “You think so?” she asked, her voice soft, but her face was already beginning to light up.


    “Really?” she asked, her tone softening.


    “Really,” I said firmly, taking another bite. “You nailed it. Perfect balance of flavor, texture—everything.”


    She let out a breath she’d clearly been holding. “Good. I wasn’t sure if I’d gotten it right. The first few batches were…” She trailed off, making a face.


    “Terrible?” I guessed, laughing.


    She shot me a playful glare. “They weren’t that bad. Just… maybe a little burnt.”


    “A little?”


    “Okay, a lot,” she admitted, laughing along.


    The fact that she’d put in this much effort just for me wasn’t lost on me. Jade, who lived on five-star meals and effortless elegance, had stepped into the kitchen and battled against her lack of experience—probably with a fire extinguisher nearby—to create something meaningful.


    A simple praise was all it took. Her face broke into the brightest smile I’d ever seen, her confidence blooming like a flower in sunlight.


    Maybe this is love, I thought. Doing things for someone else that you wouldn’t usually do.


    Jade had stepped out of her comfort zone, experimenting with baking—of all things—just to make something for me. The effort behind that cupcake was tangible, and it hit me like a punch to the gut. What had I done for her lately? A pang of guilt tightened in my chest. Sure, I’d been there for her in big ways—supporting her, fighting alongside her—but small gestures like this? I’d been slacking.


    How infuriating, I thought, half-scolding myself. I resolved right then to make something for her next time. A meal, a gift, something. It was only fair.


    Jade’s voice broke my train of thought. “Are we entering the tunnels again?”


    I shook my head. “No. I’ve got some other work to do.”


    Her shoulders slouched slightly in disappointment, but she quickly looked back up at me, her curiosity reigniting. “You found the leads on the magic meta nature?”


    I nodded. She knew about my search from a call we’d had two weeks ago, so it wasn’t surprising that she’d ask. “Someone in the North district,” I explained. “An old man, apparently on his last breath. I’m going to meet him.”


    “Can I come too?” she asked, her tone laced with eagerness and a spark of excitement.


    I paused, considering it. Truthfully, I needed someone to watch my back. I couldn’t fully trust the person who’d messaged me online—there was always the chance this was some elaborate setup. Having Jade with me wasn’t just reassuring; it was practical. With her luck and meta abilities, she was the best contingency plan anyone could ask for.


    “Sure,” I said with a small nod. “Why not?”


    Of course, there was also a selfish reason behind my decision—I wanted to spend more time with her. Her company was something I genuinely enjoyed. With her by my side, whatever lay ahead didn’t seem quite as daunting.


    Once the academy ended, I booked a cab for our ride to the North district. As the car sped through the city, weaving past traffic and skyscrapers, I mentally reviewed the next part of the plan. This wasn’t just about showing up—I needed to leave an impression, the kind that made people think twice before dismissing me. I couldn’t just appear as some random person off the street. In this dangerous world, where reputation and connections carried as much weight as power, no one would take me seriously—especially given my relatively limited abilities.


    To make the most of this opportunity, I decided to act as though I were part of an organization. A sense of legitimacy was crucial, not just for gaining trust but also for reaping any potential benefits. People respected authority, systems, and the implication that there was a network of people behind you. It added layers of mystery and leverage.


    Jade, sitting beside me, broke the silence. “What’s your plan when we get there?”


    I glanced at her, appreciating her straightforwardness. “I’m going to present myself as part of a group—a fixer organization that specializes in solving niche problems.”


    She raised an eyebrow, her silver eyes sharp with curiosity. “A fixer organization? Since when do you have one of those?”


    I smirked. “Since five minutes ago. It’s not about having one—it’s about making them believe I do.”


    She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “You’re unbelievable. What’s the name of this imaginary organization?”


    I hesitated for a moment. “It’s still… under development.”


    Jade rolled her eyes. “Right. Just don’t call it something stupid like ‘The Solution Squad’ or I’m walking out the door.”


    “Noted,” I replied, chuckling.


    The cab pulled into the North district, and the contrast was immediate. The streets were wider, lined with perfectly trimmed hedges and pristine sidewalks. Houses here weren’t just homes—they were estates, sprawling and imposing, each exuding wealth and influence.


    Jade leaned closer to the window, her gaze scanning the neighborhood. “Fancy,” she murmured.