Makun wanted to swallow the potion right now. But he could not. She had advised him against doing it.
He took control of himself and looked at her deeply.
"Thanks …hmmm," he said, then paused. He wanted to say her name, but realized he never asked for it. "Excuse me. What is your name?"
"My name?" Her voice stayed soft. "Call me Yime."
"Thanks for your help, Yime." He thanked her with a small bow.
Then Makun stood slowly, ready to leave the market and drink the potion.
But when he reached the door, Yime's voice stopped him.
"Once you successfully awaken to your route, search for me. I have a proposal. You might be interested."
Makun turned and shot a glance at Yime. He still could not see her face, hidden behind the veil. By now she had picked up her phone. Her attention was not on him.
"Sure," he said. "Let's meet again."
He was sure something like this was going to come up. She could not have helped for free. If one was being honest, he had asked way more than three questions. What were minor questions supposed to mean. Questions were questions.
But she answered even before thinking.
Afterwards she helped concoct the potion he had already placed in his sport bag. And she made it seem like her breakthrough was more valuable when compared to everything she gave him.
That on its own was suspicious.
Was she trustworthy. Till now she had not shown hostility in any way. She was very polite, and every piece of information she gave was valuable and sounded logical.
What about the potion. Could he trust her. Could he drink it.
He took it from her, but what if she poisoned it. She mentioned it herself, right. That some did poison the potions, while others made counterfeits.
How was he supposed to know. With every piece of information he received till now, he was still new to this side of the world and could not outsmart someone like her.
She knew more than him and had a larger playing field.
Makun shook his head.
He was going to think about all of this later. Now he had to trust her, get out of the pier district, and fully awaken.
Makun stepped outside and retrieved his phone from his pocket. He looked at it. 3:27 AM. The market was going to close soon. But he was in a hurry.
In a hurry to drink his potion.
In a hurry to start diving deep into mysticism.
He left, departing from her container and looking around, wondering how to get out of here.
Last time, he left when the market was closing, so things dissipated on their own. But now, he wanted to leave beforehand and did not know how.
He forgot to ask Yime the question.
Now his only option was to look for the silver masked guards before moving out of here.
Or should he look for the old man who spoke about harvest at the old plaza.
By now, with every piece of information he got, he knew that man had some skills but was also full of bullshit. However, information was still information.
Seems I am going to have to pay him a visit this Friday.
For now, Makun started moving around the pier district, looking for the silver masked guards to help him depart from here.
....
When Makun left, Yime, who sat using her phone, stood up.
She raised her hand, and instantly the door locked. She then looked around carefully, scanning the room to see if there was anything amiss.
Nothing. Perfect.
Yime walked slowly to the table and picked up the round humming device Makun failed to recognize when he entered. She placed it flat on the table, adjusted the outer ring with a twist, then pressed two glyphs carved into the metal surface in sequence. The runes inside the device began lighting up one by one, glowing faint gold.
The humming grew louder.
She recited under her breath, her tone even and methodical, adjusting the frequency to match hers and the Night Market's resonance.
The air above the device warped.
An image began forming, translucent at first, then sharper. A man appeared, his back shown to Yime. He held a massive sword, blood leaking from the blade. His long silver hair blew in the wind, but his frame remained stable, as if he was an unmovable mountain.
When the hologram stabilized, he felt it. A disturbance of frequency. He turned and looked at her.
His eyes were piercing, as if they could see the truth of the world from a speck of an atom.
Contrary to what one would have expected from someone holding a massive sword, he was dressed in a formal suit. A two piece suit. His shoes probably from a luxury brand. They shone black.
His eyes pierced through the layers of reality and reached Yime.
She had a device to help her create a connection. But on his side, he had no such thing. He was just alerted by the change in frequency after he felt the disturbance.
His piercing eyes scanned Yime from top to bottom.
"Oh. Oh. Oh." He nodded in approval, then moved his hand, scratching his chin as if he had a beard. But it was beardless.
Yime looked at him and smiled.
This man was powerful. Yes, very powerful. One of those who had the right to know the truth about Earth. He tried roleplaying the part of a powerful expert. But he always ended up making silly jokes and creating silly situations. That was why his subordinates adored him.
Yime slowly stood and bowed.
"Greetings, Chief," she said curtly.
"Hmmm. Hmmm." He approved. "Congrats. You are now a second grade Elite." He looked at her again deeply. "Hmmm. You also have enough information to digest and move forward." His voice was low, but clear.
He smiled, nodding his head in approval. Then he remembered he should not be like that.
More like a chief. More like a chief, he thought.
"What encounter has granted you such a gift," he asked, his voice a bit colder to increase his charisma.
"A chance encounter at the Night Market, sir," she spoke with her usual soft, clear voice, but there was a tinge of respect that leaked through. "I had a successful Resonant Recall with a man I met last Friday. The benefits were huge."
"Oh." He seemed interested. "What memories did he have to grant you such an enlightenment?"
Comprehension was not something easy to achieve.
With every comprehension you had, you understood the truth of reality. This granted you abilities to reshape reality in ways most people could not.
In order for her to have a breakthrough, the memory must have contained informationhe truth about the truth of reality.
"I did not see it, sir. I felt it," she said.
"Ooooh." He fixed her, interested.
He entered a pensive state, then shook his head and dismissed the thoughts.
"Very good, very good. Now why did you contact me," he asked, his voice more formal.
Yime understood he entered business mode.
He knew she would not contact him if it was not important. So he expected something important coming from her.
"Sir," she spoke with extreme seriousness. "I found a clue to what we are looking for."
The man remained silent. Deathly silent. "On the guy you met?"
"Yes."