Present Day — Late Night, Rebell-Grand City
A violent crash echoed from an abandoned warehouse deep in the woods, followed by a piercing scream—high, trembling, soaked in agony.
Inside the dim warehouse, cluttered with rusted furniture and piles of scrap materials, a middle-aged man writhed on the floor, clutching the stump where his wrist should've been.
Around him stood a dozen burly men in ski masks. But none stepped forward.
They were shaking—eyes darting between the injured man and the pitch-black corner of the room where something… someone… watched them.
Blood pooled on the dusty floor, refusing to stop, just like the man's pitiful groans.
"Not every mage is afraid of guns, you know. Try using your brains a little…"
A voice came from the darkness.
Footsteps followed.
An elf stepped out—a handsome young man with golden hair tied in a sleek ponytail, draped in a black mage uniform trimmed with gold. A luxurious purple mantle swayed behind him.
"Th-that's… a mage… with a purple cloak…"
The masked men stuttered in terror.
"AAAAAHHHH!!!"
One of them snapped from panic and started firing wildly at the elf, face drained of color.
"Good grief… none of you ever learn, do you?"
The elf's body vanished before the bullets touched him—like the air swallowed him whole.
Then—
BAM. BAM. BAM. A series of crashes rattled the warehouse.
One by one, every masked man dropped unconscious to the ground.
"Cleanup complete."
He dusted off his hands casually.
WHOOSH!
A stone bullet spell whizzed past his head—barely missing—from behind.
"Well now. Can't you just lie down and take your punishment? I even healed your arm stump for you."
The elf turned, smiling brightly—but his eyes were full of irritation.
The man with the missing wrist staggered to his feet, swaying, but still ready to fight.
"If you've got the guts… try shooting again. Don't miss this time."
The elf spread his arms slightly, offering himself as a target.
"You damn… damn mages!!! You scum!!!
EARTH FIST!!!"
Dust and rubble surged upward, forming a massive stone fist that slammed straight down onto the elf.
THUD!!
"Guh!!!"
But instead, the fist rebounded and smashed the caster himself, sending him unconscious to the floor.
Not even a twitch from the elf.
"Now which one of us is the 'scum' again…?"
The elf sighed as if a weight rolled off his shoulders. Moments later, police officers and mages in orange and yellow cloaks poured into the warehouse.
"Gods, I hate sticking around crime scenes…"
"Thank you for your hard work, Mr. Toly," a well-dressed gentleman bowed as he approached.
The officers followed, saluting the elf respectfully.
"We truly appreciate your cooperation, Mr. Mil Dotal. The Terromagia gang was heavily armed this time—guns, enchanted weapons, everything. We were lucky you were nearby."
"Yeah, yeah. Huge inconvenience. Now let me go home already.
You all should work harder too. Terromagia's been acting up a lot lately."
Toly waved them off, walking out with clear exhaustion.
"He's nothing like how he acts on TV…"
"Well, famous mages are all like that. Don't think too hard about it."
The mages whispered among themselves.
Outside, heading to the car
"Hey, Nasami…"
"Yes, Mr. Toly?"
The two walked side by side.
"Do I still have any vacation days left?"
"You have two weeks remaining, sir."
"Great. Where should I go…"
"What kind of place do you want?"
"I like mountains. Somewhere quiet—not packed with tourists."
"I'll find a suitable location."
Nasami tapped a panel near the passenger seat, bringing up a search interface.
"How about Maddymontis?"
"Whatever. Let's schedule it for early summer. Fewer people."
"Wouldn't it be hot and humid, sir?"
"I don't care. I just don't want to work."
"Understood, sir."