Izmir had seen Dr. Lupin talking on the telephone. After that, he continued his walk without looking back. He went to the garden and sat on a weathered bench, staring up at the cloud-strewn sky.
The wind moved through the trees with a restless whisper; there was no sunlight, only a cool, diffuse evening that felt both chilly and oddly comforting. Izmir let the breeze wash over him, closing his eyes. This was a moment he never wanted interrupted.
He allowed himself to relax.
When he opened his eyes he was standing in front of the dragon train again. The platform hummed with a strange stillness. He looked around for familiar faces but found none. Rachel...who should have been at his side was gone. Ray... well he had vanished . Snow had already slipped away from the train.
Aside from them, he knew no one, and a small, stubborn disappointment settled in his chest.
The city wasn't especially cold, but Izmir still wore a winter jacket from the icy caves and sturdy boots. He had no spare clothes to change into, but he decided he would explore rather than stay at the station.
He walked toward the outer station until he reached the main road.
Domingo City was unmistakably modern,slick, tall structures with glass and concrete but eerily hollow. There were no small shops or townhouses, only monolithic buildings that seemed to press in on the sky. It was evening; the sun was slipping away and the city looked abandoned.
A few people drifted along the road, but most looked like they'd been plucked from some rougher story gang members with tattoos along their arms and faces, swaggering as though they owned every shadow.
Izmir kept his pace slow and casual, observing, until he noticed four men dragging a boy into an alley. They were older and meaner than the kid; one of them caught sight of Izmir watching.
"Hey! look what we got here," he sneered. "Another low-ranker?"
The boy's attention snapped to Izmir, pleading silently.
Izmir didn't want trouble, so he kept walking.
"I'm talking to you," one of the men said, approaching. His tattooed arm flexed.
Izmir stopped and watched the boy fear clear in the child's eyes.
"Do you feel inferior?" Izmir asked the man quietly.
"Huh?" The man blinked, unsure.
"This isn't the real world. You shouldn't roam around like this,this area is owned by our gang" a blond man called from deeper in the alley.
"One only bullies those who they think are inferior than them," Izmir said, his voice steady. "It's how they steal a sense of superiority when they can't reach those above them.Are you picking on that boy because of it?"
The blond laughed. "Listen, this boy ran when we asked him not to and wouldn't give us what we wanted. Now we're asking you not to loiter- move on, or you'll get roughed up."
Dumb Izmir thought.
"So you feel inferior-so you brag about your power?" he taunted.
A vein throbbed at the temple of one man. He lunged, fist raised. The teenager who'd been grabbed stepped forward to block him-and in that instant the teen changed. Youth blurred into age; a white beard and lined face replaced his younger features.
"This is the moment I've been waiting for," the old man said, eyes bright with an unexpected excitement. "You use violence on others, and I will use it on you." He spread his arms. A ring on his left hand began to glow, the light coalescing into the translucent shape of a katana.
"Get back!" the blond barked to his men.
The ethereal blade wasn't glass; it had a keen, otherworldly edge and a filigreed hilt that caught the dim light. The old man swung. The building behind him sliced cleanly in two.A shard of façade vaporized and yet the structure held, unnaturally intact.
One of the gang activated a force field; it shimmered pink and pulsed.
The old man struck again. The field fractured like spun sugar and a stunned member screamed as a limb was severed.
They faltered. The brown-haired man threw something that cracked open in the alley: a grenade. Smoke poured out, swallowing the scene.
The old man coughed through the haze. "They escaped...," he muttered.
When the smoke thinned, only Izmir and the white-bearded man remained at the alley's entrance.
"What was that?" the older man asked, rubbing his throat. "Teleportation? A displacement spell?"
Izmir shrugged, curiosity bright where concern might have been expected. He found the man fascinating, so much so that he surprised himself with what he said next.
"Teach me," he blurted.
"Huh?" The old man frowned.
"You know sword art, don't you? Teach me." Izmir's voice was calm but determined. Being in LUNES WORLD meant danger was inevitable; he wanted to know how to fight.
The old man's mouth tilted into a smirk. "What will you give me in exchange?"
Izmir thought hard, then tried an angle. "You look Chinese, don't you?"
"IS that obvious?" the man said, amused. "I even tried dyeing my hair to change my look."
"And you're old, so maybe dead in the real world. People in China who practice that kind of sword art are hunted. How about I avenge you?" Izmir offered.
The old man laughed, a rich, surprised sound. "You're clever....kids today, trusting their instincts." He studied Izmir for a beat. "I like your spirit. I'll teach you. I don't think you need to avenge me, though."
Izmir watched him, unsure whether to trust the declaration. Still, his gut told him his assumption had merit.
"Five days," the old man said finally. "I will teach you for five days. Learn as much as you can. In this world, five days stretch to...what is it....one hundred and twenty hours."
Izmir nodded, determination coiling around him like a second skin. He had a teacher, a blade, and a deadline. The city's distant lights winked on as evening thickened, and Domingo felt, for the first time since he'd arrived, like the beginning of something.