“Please, don’t call me ‘young master’. Like I said, I’m not from a noble family. Just call me Zi-Cheng”.

“Zi-Cheng?” Chris looked puzzled for a moment, “I’m one of the few who have travelled to other cities, but I have never heard a name like that before.”

Zi-Cheng quickly realized the cultural difference and corrected himself, “That... that’s my family name! My name is Ventus, Ventus Zi-Cheng,” he added, hoping it sounded convincing enough.

“Ah, I see....” Chris’s skeptical look lingered for a moment, but quickly faded as he dismissed the issue.

For Zi-Cheng, the name Ventus was merely an alias he casually used when playing online games. Little did he know, such a simple decision would eventually become one of the cornerstones shaping the fate of this world.

Their journey continued under the open sky, with only the rhythmic creak of the wooden cart breaking the silence. Half a day soon passed without incident.

The cart creaked as it rolled out of the wilderness, its wheels clattering against the stone-paved road. Now that they were back on solid ground, Chris’s pace quickened. Free from the burden of matching Zi-Cheng’s struggling speed, they reached their destination just before sunset. Zi-Cheng, who had been resting in the cart, promptly sat up as the surrounding atmosphere grew livelier. Embarrassed, he quickly hopped down to walk beside Chris.

“So this is Hazelton...?" Zi-Cheng muttered, taking in the sight of the town before him. The medieval European-style town unfolded before his eyes, with cobblestone paths laid in perfect order. In the distance, a colossal tower rose from the city’s center, dominating the cityscape. This wasn’t some elaborate movie set but a real, living, breathing city that he had never heard of!

image [https://i.imgur.com/OBa5HGS.png]

“It’s a good place, isn’t it?” Chris said, a touch of pride roughening his voice as he nodded toward the busy streets. “Hazelton’s got its parts. The business district? Markets and spots where folks haggle for coins. Want a bite or a drink? The Gourmet District’s where you go—best taverns you’ll find.”

He pointed to the colossal tower rising in the distance. “And that over there is our Colosseum, smack in the middle of the Arena District. For a few silver coins, you can get a hot meal and a bed at one of the inns nearby.”

As Chris rambled on about the city, a carriage suddenly thundered past, its wheels rattling against the cobblestones.

Zi-Cheng’s eye widened, his gazed locked on the strange sight.

Chris quickly noticed the stunned look on Zi-Cheng’s face and chuckled, dismissing it as the reaction of a pampered young man who had never set foot outside the comfort of his estate, marveling at the mundane. But Chris didn’t know it wasn’t the carriage that caught Zi-Cheng’s attention – it was the creatures pulling it.

Two massive beasts with six legs, each with the head of an eagle and the body of a towering horse.

(That can’t be CGI or animatronics… right?)

Chris then placed a firm hand on Zi-Cheng’s shoulder, pointing to the spiral-shaped Colosseum tower that dominated the city’s skyline.

“It’s really something, isn’t it? They say it was built by our kingdom’s founding hero.”

(Wait, did he just say “the kingdom’s founding hero”...and not a king?)

Zi-Cheng’s eyes followed the tower’s imposing silhouette. It rose like a crane standing among sparrows, dwarfing all the buildings around it. At its peak, a colossal brazier blazed, casting its glow across Hazelton and beyond, a beacon that seemed to light the very sky.

A kingdom founded by a hero instead of a king, and a tower that shone as if it could be seen from miles away… Zi-Cheng racked his memory, but the world he came from had no such marvel or tales.

(So it’s true then… I’ve been thrown into an entirely different world, where the arena reigns supreme.)

Zi-Cheng trailed behind Chris, his expression hollow as reality pressed down on him. Lost in thought, he barely noticed when Chris suddenly came to a stop.

“Well, I hate to break it to you, but once we cross that stone bridge up ahead, I’m heading to meet my buyer,” Chris’s voice broke the silence as he nodded towards the bustling intersection.

Zi-Cheng’s eyes drifted up, taking in the scene before him – an intersection crowded with carts, carriages, and the clamor of people – the evening rush. It was a familiar chaos set against the backdrop of an unfamiliar city. Even though he hadn’t planned to rely on Chris for long, the thought of parting ways left him feeling adrift. Meeting someone trustworthy in this strange world had been a blessing, but now that comfort was slipping away.

Chris seemed to notice Zi-Cheng’s hesitation. He reached into the pouch at his waist, pulling out a few silver coins. “Here, take these. They’ll be enough to get you a room and a warm meal for a few days. Just keep walking down this road, and you’ll hit the guard post in a few minutes. Tell them what happened, and they’ll help you get back to your family.”

Zi-Cheng’s heart clenched. Family? The word felt heavy, almost foreign. He hadn’t mentioned to Chris that he had no family – at least, not in this world. Memories of betrayal and the cold grin of his former partner were the last remnants of his old life.

He’d grown accustomed to facing challenges alone, bearing hardship in silence. Even so, parting with the only person he’d connected with in this strange world felt like losing the last thread of familiarity. Nonetheless, he forced a smile, nodded, and offered Chris his most sincere thanks before uttering a quiet farewell.

With the wooden cart rumbling off, and Chris’s broad figure gradually blended into the sea of people, Zi-Cheng was left standing alone, as silence pressed against him.

(What now? Do I really want to ask the guards for help?)

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

A bitter smile played on his lips. If he went to the guards claiming he came from another world and wants a way home, certainly they would take him as a lunatic and perhaps lock him up for good.

(Being locked up in a cell in an unfamiliar world sounds like the worst kind of hell.)

But if not the guards, then who should he turn to? The thought of having forgotten every detail of the agreement with the strange caller gnawed at him. In the ebb and flow of the crowd sweeping by him, Zi-Cheng only felt like a lonely boat lost in the open sea.

Then, out of nowhere, a girl in a sapphire-blue school uniform bumped into him, her shoulder grazing his. Before he could react, the girl has vanished into the crowd, carried away by the currents of people.

They didn’t even make eye contact.

Not just her – everyone around him seemed to be in a hurry, with determined expression fixated forward, driven by something he couldn’t see. Though Zi-Cheng wore clothes that seemed out of place, yet not a single person spared him a second glance.

(Cold... and all too familiar)

Hazelton had no gleaming banks, no towering stock exchanges, no grand convention centers, but this cold indifference, this relentless pace – it was no different from the city he’d once called home. A city that pushed him, shaped him, and ultimately abandoned him.

He, too had chased dreams so fiercely that he’d forgotten to look around. Priorities narrowed to the here and now, complaints swallowed, life endured.

Until the day everything came crashing down.

Realization struck like a chill. All those years of grinding effort had amounted to nothing. The city, his connections, his life – all had discarded him without a second thought. His very existence felt detached, like a spare part to be tossed aside, devoid of worth.

Could he ever return to that world?

The answer eluded him.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing over there!”

Zi-Cheng’s dazed thought were cut short by the bark of a guard with neatly trimmed mustache. The man’s light armor clinked as he swaggered forward, eyes gleaming with suspicion and sharpness of someone who enjoyed exerting power.

(Great. Just when I thought I could keep a low profile.)

Zi-Cheng forced a smile, trying to suppress the unease rolling inside. “I’m… sorry, I seem to have lost my way.”

“Lost? Yeah, right. Name and where you’re from,” the guard demanded, his tone leaving no room for excuses.

The sharp question brought back memories of Chris’s probing during the cart ride, when he had shown skepticism about Zi-Cheng’s origins. Now, the guard’s imposing stance only deepened his discomfort.

“My name is Ventus. I came to Hazelton with my family to watch the arena matches, but we got separated on the way,” he said, fabricating the story of a naive noble’s son, hoping it would sound convincing.

Yet, the guard brow furrowed, his mouth curving into a smirk. “To watch the games at the arena, you say?”

In a city obsessed with arena battles, Zi-Cheng’s answer should have been foolproof. Unfortunately, he overlooked one crucial detail: in a world where only the well-guarded or exceptionally skilled dared to travel between cities, who in their right mind would risk venturing beyond the safety of the city walls just to watch an arena match in another town?

“Torenzo, enough with the chit-chat. Make him show his arena tag,” an icy, commanding voice cut through the tension from behind Zi-Cheng.

He spun around, startled to find a woman who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. Her light armor bore the insignia of rank, and a long sword with a golden hilt rested at her side. Chestnut-brown hair fell like a cascade down her back, as her eyes gleamed with disdain and impatience.

Her fingers draped over her sword’s hilt, a silent promise that she was ready to draw it at the slightest provocation.

This was Julia Kinsley, one of the few female vice-captains of the town guard, and a formidable arena combatant who had reached the prestigious gold tier. Her unyielding gaze had made it clear: she wasn’t here to play games.

Though he felt hostility radiating from her, Zi-Cheng kept his expression composed. “I won’t come of age until next month, so I haven’t received my tag yet.”

Chris had mentioned that even the nobles weren’t required to participate in the arena until they reached adulthood, thus his story should have held up… or so he thought.

Julia’s lips twisted into a sneer, a cold, mocking chuckle slipping past, “I thought you might be scrap metal, but turns out you’re not even that.”

Zi-Cheng didn’t fully grasp what “scrap metal” meant, but the venom in Julia’s voice made the insult clear. It cut deep, stirring memories of the mockery he had endured in his world.

As the head of an indie game studio, he had spent years chasing funding, only to be met with dismissive investors obsessed with quick returns. They didn’t care about the experiences his games offered—they only wanted the next tech trend to ride to profit.

“Does your game use blockchain, NFTs, metaverse tech, or AI? Why should I waste money if it doesn’t?”

“Player experience? Can that compete with flipping crypto or real estate?”

He became a laughingstock in those circles, yet he learned to suppress his anger, don a brave face, and push his proposals forward, no matter how demeaning each meeting became. It always came down to two choices: retreat in shame and wait for the funds to run dry or swallow his pride and move to the next potential backer.

The saying “if one eats salted fish, one must be able to stand the thirst” was ingrained in him—a constant reminder to endure the consequences of his path. Years of humiliation had sharpened his ability to bury his frustration under a composed facade, and this stoic demeanor seemed almost amusing to Julia.

“Torenzo, this one says he’s here for the arena games. So how about I show him some courtesy and take him there myself?” Julia declared, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Zi-Cheng’s eyes widened, a surge of panic seizing him, but before he could utter a word, Torenzo’s laughter rang out. “You’re in luck, kid! The Golden Fox herself is taking you to the tournament!”

(Chris mentioned he was called the “Silver Axe”… Does that mean this “Golden Fox” is even stronger?)

His mind raced for a way out, but before he could act, Julia’s gloved hand seized his collar, lifting him like a stray cat.

“I’m Julia Kinsley, vice-captain of the town guard. Ventus, wasn’t it? You said you wanted to see the games? I’ll make sure you have the best seat!” Her voice left no room for argument – it was clear this was anything but an invitation.

A sharp pain shot through his wrist as she yanked him forward. He opened his mouth to protest, but her iron grip left no room for resistance. With no other choice, Zi-Cheng let his body go limp, hoping to make himself a burden as she dragged him along the street.

But Julia saw right through it. With a swift motion, she released her hold, and he crumpled to the ground in an undignified heap.

“Why did you let go!” Zi-Cheng muttered, holding his aching face, bewildered.

“Because I don’t trust anyone who tries to play dead. A little punishment is what tricksters deserve,” she said, her tone icy, eyes daring him to pull another stunt.