Timeline: April 2, 1987

  Location: Baltonia City Age: 11

  ?The rusted suspension of the cargo truck groaned as we hit another pothole. I braced my feet against the floorboard, automatically adjusting my center of gravity to absorb the shock.

  ?"Sorry 'bout that, kid," the driver grunted, wrestling the large steering wheel. His name was Bicks, a broad-shouldered man smelling faintly of engine oil and stale tobacco. I had hitched a ride with him early this morning after spending my first night alone in the trading town of Oakhaven.

  ?"It's fine, Mr. Bicks," I replied smoothly, looking out the dirt-streaked window.

  ?"Still haven't told me what a kid your age is doing heading to a hub like Baltonia all by his lonesome," Bicks said, glancing at my small frame. "You don't look like you weigh more than eighty pounds wet. City's dangerous."

  ?I didn't bother correcting him. My physical density was far beyond what a normal human could perceive. Because of the years I spent doing river-resistance training and systematically tearing and rebuilding my muscle fibers, my skeletal structure and muscle mass were incredibly dense. But there was no strategic value in explaining that.

  ?"I'm looking for a specific place," I said instead. "Heaven's Arena. Do you know if the airships from Baltonia fly there directly?"

  ?Bicks burst out laughing, a loud, booming sound. "Heaven's Arena? Kid, you're on the wrong side of the world! That's all the way over in the Republic of Padokea. Yorbian continent."

  ?I frowned slightly, mentally adjusting my plans. The maps the merchants brought to the village had been incredibly vague about intercontinental geography. "How much does a ticket to Padokea cost?"

  ?"A fortune," Bicks snorted. "You'd need at least a few hundred thousand Jenny for a commercial airship ticket, and that's just for economy class. Unless you've got a rich uncle waiting in Baltonia, you're not getting to Padokea anytime soon."

  ?A few hundred thousand Jenny. I reached into my cloak, my fingers brushing against the small pouch of coins the Elder had given me. It wasn't nearly enough. I needed to modify the timeline.

  ?"Then I suppose I'll be staying in Baltonia for a while," I said calmly.

  ?By late afternoon, the city skyline broke through the haze. Baltonia was a massive sprawl of brick, steel, and smog. But as Bicks parked near the warehouse district and I hopped out to thank him, the architecture wasn't what caught my attention.

  ?It was the people.

  ?Hundreds of them swarmed the streets. Because my aura nodes were fully open, the sight was almost blinding. I saw the faint, misty white light of life energy leaking uncontrollably from the heads and shoulders of every single person that walked past me. It was a chaotic, disorganized waste of aura.

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  ?I immediately focused inward. I drew my own aura close to my skin, wrapping it in a tight, controlled shroud of Ten. I had to keep it active constantly. If I let my aura leak like these normal humans, or worse, if I flared my Ren by accident, any passing Hunter in the city would spot me instantly. I needed to remain invisible until I was ready.

  ?I spent the next two hours walking the commercial district, mapping the layout and actively looking for "Help Wanted" signs. Eventually, I found myself in a quieter district filled with tall, ivy-covered buildings. A small wooden sign hung above a shop: Vancleef's Remedies & Logistics.

  ?I pushed the door open. A bell chimed overhead. The shop smelled heavily of dried herbs, alcohol, and old paper. An older man with sharp eyes and a neatly trimmed gray beard stood behind the counter, rubbing his temples in frustration.

  ?"We're closed," he said, his voice crisp and impatient. He pointed to a stack of four massive, lead-lined wooden barrels blocking the front entrance. "The loaders union left the raw medical solvent in the front instead of taking it to the back room. I'm waiting on a mechanical winch."

  ?"The sign in the window says you're looking for a stock boy and courier," I pointed out, stepping up to the counter.

  ?He looked down at me, raising an eyebrow. "You're a child. Those barrels weigh exactly five hundred kilograms a piece. I need someone who can actually move inventory."

  ?I didn't say a word. I simply walked over to the nearest lead-lined barrel. I adjusted my footing, ensuring my skeletal alignment was perfect to avoid wasting kinetic energy. I slipped my fingers under the heavy iron rim.

  ?With a brief, controlled exhale, I lifted the half-ton barrel straight off the floor with one arm. I held it casually at chest height, my breathing perfectly even.

  ?Internally, I did the math. Five hundred kilos. Barely a fraction of my natural seven-ton limit—a threshold I had reached through years of systematic biomechanical conditioning, even without using aura. It's enough to prove my use, but not enough to register as a supernatural threat to any hidden observers.

  ?Vancleef dropped his pen. It clattered loudly against the wooden floorboards. His jaw went entirely slack, his eyes bulging as he stared at the massive weight hovering in my single hand.

  ?"Where do you want these, Mr. Vancleef?" I asked, my voice perfectly level. "And for the record, I also know the difference between foxglove, belladonna, and standard sleeping root."

  ?Vancleef swallowed hard, pointing a trembling finger toward a hallway. "The... the back room. On the left."

  ?I nodded, easily carrying the massive weight through the doorway and setting it down without making a sound. I repeated the process three more times, clearing his entryway in under a minute. When I walked back out, Vancleef was still staring at me as if I were a hallucination.

  ?"What happens if you boil foxglove and extract the oil?" I asked, deciding to finish the interview. "You get digitalis. In microscopic doses, it regulates a failing heart. In larger doses, it causes severe cardiac arrhythmia and death. I need part-time work to fund an airship ticket, and I learn faster than anyone you've ever hired."

  ?A slow, slightly terrified, but highly calculating smile spread across Vancleef's face.

  ?"Pay is four hundred Jenny an hour," he managed to say, his merchant instincts finally overriding his shock. "You move the heavy stock, sweep the floors, and deliver my medical parcels to the university across town."

  ?"Understood," I said.

  ?I had secured a high-paying job. And based on what he just said, I now had a direct, authorized route into the local medical university. My plan to fund the trip to Heaven's Arena, and advance Project 3, was officially in motion