If there was one thing Michael liked about dealing with unfamiliar people in places he wandered into to handle business, it was how quickly they got to the point.
On the flip side, what he hated was the difficulty of effective negotiation with strangers in such settings.
There were pros and cons, but in the Association, it hardly mattered now; he was here to sell, not buy.
If he had wanted to purchase something, he’d have preferred to deal with Brian—or worse, the middle-aged man who had attended to him earlier in the afternoon.
As he liked, the trade center staff quickly got to the point.
After nearly an hour of trade, Michael sold the corpses he’d brought earlier in the day.
Though the sale didn’t significantly boost his account balance, which still hovered around two million, it was a nice profit for something he had picked up and returned.
With his business at the Association concluded, Michael headed back to his hotel, taking the same route he’d used to get to the Supers Association branch.
Dark alleys.
Moments later, Michael arrived at the hotel entrance, only to encounter a familiar face—or at least, somewhat familiar.
It was a stretch to call it that since he’d only seen the man once about an hour ago.
It was the man who happened to be staying in the room opposite his.
As their eyes met, the man frowned, though he quickly masked it with a polite smile.
Michael, however, had already noticed the initial reaction.
What puzzled him more was the faint hostility he sensed—not from the middle-aged man but from his companion beside him.
Even more intriguing was the familiar aura emanating from the other person.
“Two supernaturals?” Michael murmured to himself. He wasn’t surprised to learn he shared the hotel with at least two other supernaturals.
Supernaturals were still human, after all, just more adept at hiding themselves from the average society while continuing to live their lives.
It wasn’t unusual to see supernaturals in public, though Michael rarely encountered them.
Before his advancement to Rank 1, he wouldn’t have even noticed if a supernatural passed him—unless he used {Detect}, which he had stopped doing after his unnerving experience with Brian.
Now, however, with his advancement, everything about him had improved, including aspects not shown on the status panel.
Michael no longer needed {Detect} to recognize a supernatural being, as long as they weren’t far stronger than him and had excellent control over their mana and aura.
At the moment, though, none of this mattered.
What puzzled Michael was the faint hostility he’d sensed earlier from the companion of the man he’d met an hour ago. It didn’t make any sense.
The hostility had disappeared as quickly as it appeared, but Michael trusted his instincts.
His senses weren’t playing tricks on him.
Despite his confusion, Michael didn’t linger.
After returning a polite nod to the man from earlier and briefly greeting the companion—who, for some reason, greeted him first—Michael continued on his way.
At least, that’s how it appeared on the surface.
The moment Michael reached a secluded corner, he leaned his back against the wall and exhaled slowly.
Without hesitation, he connected his consciousness to the Land of Origin.
When he opened his eyes in the other world, he was seated cross-legged, exactly as he had been before returning to the real world.
Wasting no time, Michael turned to the two undead perched on his shoulders.
On his right was the undead phantom Morpho, the only one of its kind under his command, which he had named Blue.
On his left sat the undead Spicebush Swallowtail moth, another unique undead. Purple.
With a quick glance at both, Michael stored them in his Mark of Origin.
Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes again and reconnected with the real world.
Barely a few seconds had passed. Nothing appeared to have changed.
Michael scanned his surroundings, confirming no one was paying attention.
Discreetly, he stretched out his palms, summoning the two undead he had just stored. They hovered silently above his hands.
What was Michael doing?
Initially, he had planned to mind his own business, but something about those two men felt off—deeply suspicious.
Yet even that wouldn’t have been enough for him to act.
It wasn’t until he passed them earlier that he realized why their auras felt so familiar.
It was a sensation Michael knew intimately, ever since his first undead.
The energy of death.
While Michael wasn’t one to equate death energy with evil—he himself wielded it.
However, something about the death energy surrounding those two was deeply unsettling.
It felt ominous. Resentful.
Also, it was like the moment he finally recognised the energy, the energy seemed to call out to him.
Michael wasn’t sure but a part of him knew he had heard several voices called out to him in an instant.
“Die!”
For the first time since his awakening, Michael felt the true workings of his class—the abilities not listed on his status panel.
******
“Idiot! Were you trying to alert him?” the older of the two men snapped angrily as soon as they stepped outside the hotel. He clearly seemed to be the leader.
“Sorry,” the second man replied meekly, his head lowered. “I couldn’t help myself. We’re finally so close to our goal, and seeing a variable like that made me lose my composure for a moment.”
The older man’s scowl deepened, his breathing heavy with restrained frustration. He took a moment to compose himself before speaking.
“That boy is not any weaker than us,” he said firmly.
“I was surprised, too, when I encountered him outside our rooms. He’s the one responsible for that earlier disturbance. I don’t know why his mana signature is so similar to the man the higher-ups assigned us, nor why he doesn’t bother fully suppressing his mana. But listen to me—he’s a strong variable. Didn’t I tell you to be cautious around him?”
“I’m sorry,” the other man murmured again, guilt evident in his tone.
“Just be careful. I know how excited you are about advancing and your hatred for these so-called modern cultivators who choose to be controlled like lambs instead of reigning as kings, but tonight is critical. We can’t afford any mistakes. Understand?”
“I understand,” the second man said quietly. “But still… that boy. He looked so young yet so powerful. Do you think he’s an Awakener?”
“I doubt it. He seems too old. If he were an Awakener, someone his age would be able to crush us effortlessly. I wouldn’t have even sensed his mana unless he wanted me to. It’s better not to dwell on it—he’s likely just some prodigy from a powerful force.”
“More like a drug-enhanced prodigy,” the other man muttered under his breath.
“Whatever he is, he’s none of our business,” the leader replied coldly. “Besides, he’ll be dead soon enough.”
The two men didn’t even consider the possibility that Michael was one of the rare new Awakeners who had recently passed their ceremony.
Unlike Grace, who worked within the Supers Association, these men were clueless.
But even Grace had thought of Michael’s progress to be extremely fast.
To the two duo, however, Michael was simply a strong youth with a vaguely familiar aura.