Whistle~ Whistle~
My hands stuffed inside the pockets of my joggers, I walked with a slight sway, letting the cool New York breeze slap against my face.
The streets were louder now, packed with that chaotic rhythm only this city could pull off—horns blaring, people yelling, so guy pushing a cart stacked with bagels like he was on a holy mission. I let my hood hang low, not really hiding, but keeping the world at arm’s length.
For once, it felt... normal.
The slls were everywhere—oil, bread, sothing spicy coming from a food truck parked across the street. I slowed down, my stomach growling like it had a mind of its own.
"Damn... didn’t think I’d actually miss street food."
Back in my old life, I couldn’t go ten steps without a stall selling vada pav or golgappa. Here, though, it was hotdogs and pretzels, with so fusion crap people pretended was ’authentic.’ Still, hunger didn’t care about authenticity.
I stopped at a halal cart run by an older man with tired eyes but a smile that looked like it had survived years of chaos.
"One chicken over rice," I said, my voice steady.
He nodded, already scooping steaming at onto a bed of rice, the sll punching right in the mory. I leaned against the tal side of the cart, watching the smoke rise and mix with car exhaust.
When the container hit the counter, I paid in cash. The bills Grayfia left felt too crisp, too new, but the vendor didn’t question it. He just handed a plastic fork.
I sat on a nearby bench, peeling the lid back, and the first bite nearly made groan out loud.
Hot, spicy, tangy—the kind of food that didn’t just fill your stomach but slapped your soul awake.
"Perfect," I muttered around the mouthful, my lips burning in just the right way.
"Excuse , do you mind if I ask you a personal question?" Two teenage girls stopped in front, blushing for no apparent reason, at least to .
"Hmm... Sure." I tilted my head slightly left, which caused the hood to recede a bit.
But it seems just this action caused the blush to spread from the cheeks to all over their faces. One of them even pressed her phone against her chest like she was holding back a scream.
"Your eyes..." the braver one whispered, almost too soft for the noise of traffic to swallow. "Are they contacts?"
Contacts? I blinked once, my fork paused mid-air. For a second, I’d forgotten that crimson wasn’t exactly the ’normal’ colour in this world.
I swallowed my bite and gave a small shake of my head. "Nah. Natural."
The girl gasped, like I’d just confessed to being so rare breed of celebrity. Her friend tugged her sleeve, whispering sothing that sounded suspiciously like ani character before both broke into nervous giggles.
"Sorry!" the first one blurted. "We just... never saw anything like that. You look... um... cool."
Her friend nodded so fast I thought she’d get dizzy.
I sighed softly and lowered my hood the rest of the way, letting my snow-white hair catch the sunlight. Might as well. Hiding only made them curious.
"Cool, huh?" I murmured, more to myself than to them. In my old life, the most I ever got was, Bhai, adjust na, when cramd in a local train. Now two strangers were tripping over complints because of my face. Life was strange.
"...and your... hair? It’s just that even your eyebrows and eyelashes are white," the second girl stamred out, her words tumbling together like she regretted them the mont they escaped.
I blinked slowly, then gave a small shrug. "Genetics, I guess."
Their eyes widened like I’d just revealed so ancient secret. It wasn’t even a lie—well, not for them. For , it was more like my existence had been dipped in snow and fire and then left to wander into the wrong world.
I stabbed another bite of chicken and rice, chewing calmly while they shuffled in front of , whispering in bursts, then glancing at like I was so rare painting in a museum. Honestly, I didn’t know whether to laugh or sigh.
"Relax," I said finally, setting the fork down. "I’m not gonna bite."
That seed to make things worse. Both girls went stiff, their cheeks burning red. The braver one covered her face with both hands, muffling sothing that suspiciously sounded like he’s too much.
I rubbed the back of my neck. In my past life, nobody batted an eye at . I was just another guy lost in the crowd, shoved around on buses, blending in with a million others. Now? A simple look was enough to knock people off balance.
"You from here?" the second girl asked, still stealing glances like she wasn’t sure if I was real.
"First ti in New York," I answered casually, spearing another piece of chicken. "Just... looking around."
They exchanged a look, and then the braver one smiled, cheeks pink. "Well... welco. Hope you like it here."
"Thanks." I gave a small nod, returning my attention to the food.
"Ahem, I-If it’s not too much, can my friend here get your number?"
I raised a brow, the fork halfway to my mouth.
Her friend squeaked, nearly choking on air, and smacked her arm. "Wha—hey! Don’t just—!"
The bold one bit her lip, eyes darting between and the ground, clearly regretting every life choice that led her to this exact mont.
I chewed slowly, buying myself a few seconds. The rice was spicy, grounding. When I swallowed, I set the fork down and leaned back slightly, studying them.
"My number, huh?" My tone wasn’t cold, just... curious.
I blinked at the girl, a little stunned. My number? Right. Of course. That was normal here, wasn’t it? But...
I scratched the side of my jaw, buying ti. The truth was... I didn’t even own a phone. Grayfia had left money, cards, even an obsidian lifeline, but no sleek little slab of glass with apps and numbers that every human here seed to treat like oxygen.
"...I don’t have one," I said finally, honest but casual.
The bold one froze, blinking at like I’d spoken in another language. Her friend’s jaw dropped.
"No phone?!" they said at the sa ti, voices a little too loud for comfort. A couple walking past turned to glance, then shrugged it off.
The braver girl leaned in, whispering urgently, "Wait—you an like, no smartphone? At all?"
I gave a slow nod, lifting my cup of water. "Yeah. None."
Her friend covered her mouth with both hands, muffling her laugh. "You’re kidding! Everyone has one!"
I raised an eyebrow. "Do I look like everyone?"
That shut her up.
For a second, they just stared at , both pink-cheeked, both caught between disbelief and so strange fascination. Then the bold one smirked faintly.
"...That’s kind of mysterious," she said.
"Mysterious?" I tilted my head, genuinely puzzled. "Not irresponsible?"
She giggled, shaking her head. "No. Most guys I know can’t last two minutes without checking their phones. You... you’re different."
Different. Right. If only they knew how much.
I popped another bite of chicken into my mouth, hiding the small twist of amusent tugging at my lips. The food grounded , kept from drifting too far into thoughts I couldn’t explain to strangers.
When I finished chewing, I exhaled softly. "Tell you what. Maybe I’ll get one soon. First thing on the list after this."
Her friend lit up. "Then we can give you our numbers!"
"Mm." I shrugged, standing and tossing the empty container into the nearby trash. "Maybe."
The bold one bit her lip again, like she wanted to say sothing else, but before either of them could, my Observation Grid and Senses scread for to move.
From the corner of my eye, I saw a cloud of dust moving in our general direction.
My body imdiately moved, while my arms unconsciously wrapped around both girls, pulling them close and to the side just as a deafening CRASH! tore through the street.
Glass shattered, car alarms wailed, and the ground trembled like a train had derailed right under us. A delivery truck that had been parked along the curb was now on its side, crushed like a soda can, and sothing—soone—massive was standing where it had been.
Dust and smoke billowed up, and through it lood a silhouette that made my stomach knot. Towering horns. A hulking fra. The kind of raw, primal presence that scread predator.
A Minotaur.
"What the fuck—?!" one of the girls squeaked, her voice shaking against my chest.
My heart pounded once, hard. Grayfia’s warning echoed sharp in my mind—Don’t engage beings beyond your estimate. But this thing? This wasn’t so ordinary demon straggler or enchanted mortal. This was ancient myth stomping its way into downtown New York.
The creature snorted, hot steam curling from its nostrils, its eyes glowing with a hateful red that wasn’t human—or even demonic. Its hoof struck the pavent, cracking it like dry clay.
The street had emptied in seconds—screams echoed, car doors slamd, people fled in every direction. The two girls clung to , trembling, but my body was already moving on instinct.
I tightened my grip around them. "Run."
They looked up at with wide, panicked eyes.
"I said—RUN!" My voice ca sharper this ti, heavy with a will I hadn’t intended to unleash. For just a second, they froze under it—then bolted, legs shaky but carrying them away from ground zero.
Good. That was one less thing to worry about.
I turned back toward the Minotaur. My hood had fallen, my hair catching the wind, my crimson eyes locking onto its hulking form.
It wasn’t just here to smash cars. Its aura—it pulsed, savage, hungry, like it was hunting sothing. Or soone.
And when its gaze landed on , the beast’s lips pulled back into sothing that looked too much like a grin.
I muttered under my breath. "Of course. Why not ?"
***
Stone , I can take it!
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