Aoto first went to the kingdom’s official teleportation center—one of the biggest and most secure places for long-distance travel. Only people with clean records could use it, and it definitely wasn’t cheap. This service was made for nobles, high-class rchants, and other important people—not for average commoners.
But for Aoto, that wasn’t a problem.
He had money.
And he had no criminal record.
So after showing his official ID and paying the fee without blinking, he was teleported straight to Tengen Village.
The mont his feet touched the ground, a wave of soft wind brushed past him. The air was cleaner here, and the scent of trees and soil filled his nose.
He rembered coming here a few months ago. It was quiet then, and it was still quiet now.
Pulling the hood of his robe closer to his face, he walked slowly down the narrow street. He didn’t want anyone to recognize him. His face stayed hidden in shadows, and his footsteps were light.
But even with his face hidden, people noticed sothing strange.
A wooden stick was tied to his right arm.
It looked odd.
So villagers whispered as he walked by. A few gave him side glances. So kids even pointed at him and laughed quietly.
“Is he crazy?”
“Why is he tying a stick like that? Is he hurt or just weird?”
Aoto kept walking, pretending not to hear anything.
But in his mind… he was laughing.
"Hehe… how could these idiots understand?
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