The night was dark, yet when lit by the city's lights it became a dazzling spectacle. Clear raindrops fell from the clouds above, striking the ground below and pooling into puddles.
A medium-height figure in a thick coat, holding a black umbrella, threaded his way through the crowd in the late hours. The rain's patter sounded like a measured refrain, as if attempting to describe the loneliness of a solitary life.
Could the rain of a gloomy night be compared to the hollow ache of the human heart?
'Leo Black'a young man in his teens and an orphan from a remote little town, lamented the solitude of his own existence.
Looking back seven or eight years, Leo felt a quiet pride. He had always thought of himself as industrious, more diligent and persevering than other children his age. Part of that came from the fact that he had been reborn from the future.
Still, that was no excuse for having fixed the harshness of his life by luck alone.
No—it had not been easy. He had clawed his way out of days when he barely ate, when he slept on a hard futon without warmth, wearing patched, tattered clothes. He'd had no education, no possessions, no rights and few chances.
He had nearly become a child without a future; his life had nearly ended when he was still a boy. But he refused to give up.
As someone who had been reborn, Leo would not let himself die merely because he was an orphan with no opportunities.
Ding!
[You have trained your descriptive writing ability. Proficiency +30]
A translucent window, like a hologram from a game or a movie, flashed into being before the young man. Leo glanced at it and gave a faint smile.
It was like a blessing from the heavens—an opportunity for a poor orphan to develop himself in the right direction.
It was his special skill, awakened when he was five: a unique interface called the "Talent Window." It allowed him to see his own talents and to increase proficiency in each area until he reached higher levels.
Back then he had thought he would simply work to earn money and improve his life without a clear direction. But when the Talent Window appeared, his life suddenly had shape and purpose.
It let him plan for the future—how to train, how to work, how to earn steadily.
At twelve he could buy a car; at thirteen he could own a house. That was not mere luck, but the fruit of Leo's own effort.
The Talent Window showed Leo's aptitudes across different fields, divided into five colors: White [No Talent], Green [Common Talent], Blue [Rare Talent], Purple [Legendary Talent], and Gold [Divine Talent] — along with proficiency tiers: Novice, Skilled, Master, Professor, and God.
This advantage guided Leo's planning. He discovered that his talent for writing novels was extremely high—purple—so he made it his main profession. The moment he began to write, he exploded into fame.
Fortune smiled on him: he found patrons, his works were bought and reprinted under the pen name "Sing," and his writing, combined with other work his talents made easy, made him wealthy in less than ten years. From a starving orphan who had nearly perished in the cold and hunger, he became prosperous.
Yet Leo did not become extravagant. He dressed simply and strolled like any young man while recommencing his studies seriously—though he did not strictly need to, since in his previous life he had already earned a university degree.
After walking for a while he moved farther away from the bustle of the city.
He reached an empty street; the rain still fell, not violently, but like a carpet of moisture blessing the city and its people. He stopped at the mouth of a narrow lane and, looking down the dark cut through the buildings toward his lodging, sighed.
"It would be nice if I could travel there in the blink of an eye."
Not that he was lazy.
Beneath his clothes his body was slender but muscular in a way hidden from view. He was not as broad or as built as adult gym-goers, for he was only fourteen.
In his previous life, apart from having gained a degree in education, he had loved exercise so much that his physique had attracted admiring looks from women and praise from trainers. He had also been an amateur motorcycle racer.
Thinking of that, Leo clenched his fist, his expression set.
I'm determined to get my beloved bike back!
He stepped into the silent alley, his gaze steady, cutting through the darkness with purpose. He was not afraid of the quiet; the dark and the hush had been his friends when he was young.
They had taught him how to sleep even when hungry, how to hold himself to keep warm, how to be strong after once being an adult who had become a child again.
Yet beneath the moonlit darkness and the measured patter of rain there crept an odd sense that something was amiss.
Familiar, somehow.
He murmured and narrowed his eyes; a high whistling filled his ears.
Crack!
A bolt of lightning split the sky, and his heart jumped. His steps froze on the spot; he squinted, brows knitting, bracing himself against a fierce gust.
He did not curse in surprise—rather, it was because that gale was something unexpected! The wind slashed toward him, buffeting him so hard that he could barely stand. A white light blazed before his eyes, stinging his vision until he had to lift an arm to shield his face.
It felt like that time—the storm that had brought him to be reborn.
And now? Was this to happen again—would he die and be reborn once more?
As the wind tore at his coat, Leo breathed deep and steadied himself. He let the umbrella go, allowing it to be whisked away in the rain. Another lightning flash cracked, and he squeezed his eyes shut.
Then, in the next instant, everything calmed.
…Silence returned.
The ringing in his ears faded. The violent gale that had scattered everything seemed to vanish as if it had never been. The dampness of the rain seemed gone.
What on earth had just happened?
When the young man opened his eyes, red irises taking in the alley he knew so well, he noticed something different: it looked newer—more modern. Streetlights that had never been there before now stood tall beside the buildings.
The rain-damp night became brightened by lights from outside the alley.
What?
He blinked. The handsome, still-youthful face shifted slightly; his brow furrowed, and his lips wore a sudden dry tightness.
A faint dawn shimmered behind the horizon. Though still dim, the strange phenomenon did not startle someone who had experienced this before: it had been nearly eleven o'clock only moments ago, yet in the next breath the sun was about to rise.
A gust of wind made him shiver. When he glanced down at his clothes, Leo's face showed a trace of disbelief; his eyes widened slowly.
"Ragged like this from a single gust… Or am I no longer in the same world?"
Now his heavy coat seemed old, with a few tears; his shirt and trousers underneath looked worse—aged, frayed by cobwebs and torn, as if he were playing the role of a beggar.
He gave a dry smile and muttered a short curse in his mind at this misfortune, and then he drew a long breath. A fluttering sound from overhead made him look up, and the smile on his youthful face froze.
Flap, flap.
A small winged creature descended from the sky — a large owl carrying an envelope tied to its leg. With his keen eyes there was no doubt what he saw; it made Leo raise a skeptical brow.
An owl with a letter?
Ding!
[You have experienced magic for the first time. You have unlocked the Talent Window's binding. The Talent Window has evolved.]
Ding!
[Talent Window: Can now display other things' talent statuses.]
Ding!
[Talent Postal Owl: Purple.]
"…"
Seeing the notifications, Leo stood motionless, stunned, until the owl alighted on his shoulder and cocked its head in mild puzzlement at the human's behavior.
His mind, however, processed it all a beat behind the body. He turned to the bird, narrowing his eyes in concentration.
"Magic…?"
"An owl with a letter. Magic. In England? Or have I been brought into some Harry Potter world?"
He managed a stiff smile. The deep red of his irises glinted with dawning comprehension mingled with perplexity. He reached out, untied the letter from the owl's leg, and opened it.
…
End of Chapter One.