She smirked as she typed another ssage:
"If that barista is the owner, I gave him my card. Let's see if he calls . And by the way, how could you keep this coffee a secret? I feel betrayed."
Her phone buzzed with private ssages almost imdiately, each echoing the sa request:
"Invite if you et him!"
"What's gotten into them?" Alberta muttered, shaking her head. But before she could dwell on the strange shift in her friends' behavior, another sip of coffee worked its magic, soothing her thoughts.
"I could get addicted to this," she sighed.
"Sa here," Michael agreed, nodding. "I might end up coming here three tis a day."
Alberta laughed, their mutual agreent unspoken yet clear.
When her cup was empty, Alberta approached the counter to order another coffee to go. As she accepted her drink, she looked Gin directly in the eyes, her confidence unwavering.
"I'll be waiting for your call—or at least a text. Don't keep waiting, okay?"
Without waiting for a response, she turned and left the café, her presence lingering like an echo.
Gin watched her go, his expression unreadable. For a mont, the air around him felt heavier, a subtle shift only he could sense.
Standing abruptly, he addressed his baristas.
"I'm not feeling well today. I'll head out early."
Leslie and Wayn imdiately fretted, urging him to rest and take care of himself. Gin offered a faint smile, brushing off their concern as he stepped outside.
Alberta and Michael were nowhere to be seen. But Gin wasn't worried. As inexperienced wizards, they had left faint traces of magic in their wake—threads of energy only soone like him could follow.
The streets stretched out before him, illuminated by the golden hues of the setting sun. Gin walked leisurely, his pace unhurried, yet his thoughts raced.
For six years, he had searched for others like himself. In all that ti, he had found no one—until now.
Alberta and Michael were weak, their magical reserves barely above the average human's. But their very existence confird a critical truth: if lesser wizards existed, so too must greater ones.
As Gin followed the faint traces of magic, a quiet determination settled over him. The peaceful life he had built in Café Wizard was shifting, and the threads of destiny were beginning to unravel.
The hunt for answers had only just begun.
The mont Gin caught sight of Alberta and Michael again was precisely two minutes after he began trailing them. Their destination, it seed, was a public parking lot—a clear signal they planned to leave by car.
Though Gin owned a car, he had no intention of following them that way. Stealth was paramount. Being discovered would compromise everything. Every step of his pursuit so far had been ticulous, avoiding the watchful eyes of CCTV and the ever-present black boxes in modern vehicles. It wasn't simply about dodging caras—he had bent light itself, distorting reality to cloak his presence. The trick wasn't perfect; light manipulation left the surrounding environnt with an uncanny dissonance, a ripple of wrongness that even the untrained eye might sense. Occasionally, his magic would even flash conspicuously. But as long as it hid his identity, the risk was acceptable.
When the two entered their luxury foreign car, Gin swiftly vaulted onto the roof, pressing himself flat against its surface. If following beca impossible, he resolved to retreat. They would return to the café eventually—after all, they had tasted the coffee infused with magic.
For mages, such coffee was far from ordinary. The stronger one's magic, the richer and more exquisite the flavors it offered. Yet, even magic had its limits. Gin himself couldn't resist the allure of his café's brews.
Once tasted, other coffees felt bland, lifeless. His studies revealed that those with sufficient magical aptitude might even develop an addiction.
But if a mage's power reached a certain threshold, the coffee's effects diminished—a relief to him, but a double-edged sword nonetheless.
The car pulled away, and Gin braced himself. If they entered a crowded road, he would abandon the chase; too many eyes would compromise his presence. However, fortune smiled—the car veered onto a quieter stretch, its destination leading toward the northern outskirts of Gyeonggi Province.
Sleek, modern buildings soon appeared on the horizon, their designs catching the eye even in the growing twilight. The car stopped at one of these, and Gin slipped off the roof, descending silently with a spell to break his fall.
Concealed behind a cluster of trees and benches, he watched as Alberta and Michael disappeared into the fifteen-story building.
The air seed to hum with tension. Other mages were likely inside. Gin inhaled deeply, steadying his nerves.
His senses, though formidable, couldn't detect mages with low power.
If he wanted to confirm their numbers, he'd have to venture inside.
Regret flickered briefly in his thoughts. I should've invested more in sensory magic, he mused. Once, he had believed himself the only mage in existence, and his studies had shifted toward more practical spells, leaving detection arts to gather dust in forgotten tos. If he had been diligent, he might now perceive the ebb and flow of magical auras with ease.
Shaking off the thought, Gin focused on the present. Just as he debated whether to follow, his gaze drifted to a nearby five-story building. Sothing about it tugged at him, an inexplicable pull that gnawed at the edge of his awareness.
Cautiously, he examined the smaller structure. It was heavily guarded—CCTV caras adorned its rooftop, its entrances, and even the adjacent parking lot. Iron pillars stood like sentinels, each capped with yet another cara. The security was overkill, even by modern standards.
What are they hiding? he wondered.
Gin weighed his options.
Entering unnoticed would be difficult, but not impossible. His light-bending magic ensured his identity would remain concealed, though it ca with risks. The distortion could reveal that soone capable of such high-level manipulation was present—a fact he preferred to keep hidden.
By nightfall, the situation shifted.
The once-quiet buildings stirred to life as people began to erge.
Gin's sharp eyes caught the faint glimr of magic surrounding many of them. Of the thirteen individuals stepping out, seven were mages, including Alberta and Michael. They entered the smaller building, the one that had gnawed at his instincts all along.
Gin's resolve hardened.
Shrouding himself in a perfected weave of refracted light, he moved silently toward the building's shadowed rear.
The entrance was too exposed, and he needed another way in.
Darkness had fallen, casting the area into near-total obscurity, save for a scattering of streetlights. Gin felt a quiet exhilaration stir within him. It had been too long since his last challenge. His life had grown stagnant—imrsed in magical research and solitary growth. Perhaps, deep down, he had sought out these other mages not to confront them but to intertwine his path with theirs, to break free from his isolation.
And that building... there was sothing inside it, sothing that demanded his attention. It called to him with an irresistible pull, like a whisper in the shadows.
Gin worked another spell, his hands weaving the air like a symphony conductor.
Maintaining the distortion while casting another enchantnt was no easy feat, but he was no ordinary mage.
His mind split seamlessly, each fragnt working independently—a skill honed through relentless discipline.
His focus sharpened as he approached the building, its mysteries looming like a monolith before him. Whatever lay inside would change the course of his journey forever.
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