Alonso took a mental note of all the important things Maria had mentioned to him. Once the meal was ready, her two children, Tom and Jack, joined them at the table. They shared the modest dinner, the air filled with light-hearted conversation and laughter. As the evening waned, the children, tired from the day's adventures, retired to bed.

After they were asleep, Maria showed Alonso to his sleeping quarters. He gave a small nod of gratitude, the words forming slowly, weighed down by an unfamiliar emotion. "Your kindness, Maria, is far greater than I can express. Truly, you have my thanks," he said, his voice betraying none of the intensity he felt. Though he kept his emotions restrained, the warmth of this simple hospitality left an impression—one that softened the edges of his normally guarded self.

Maria simply smiled and left him to rest. Alone in the quiet, Alonso felt the pull of solitude, a familiar companion. For years, his existence had been marked by logic and isolation—family, warmth, and comfort had long evaded him. But now, in this humble home, surrounded by strangers, he felt a touch of something he hadn't allowed himself to feel in years. It gnawed at him, a strange mix of gratitude and vulnerability.

The next morning, Alonso awoke to find Maria already up, absorbed in a book. Her sharp features softened as she noticed him stirring. She placed the book down and smiled gently. "Good morning," she greeted him, her voice clear and bright.

Alonso, still gathering his thoughts, returned her greeting. "Good morning," he replied, brushing off the remnants of sleep. "I trust your night was restful?"

Maria leaned against the table, a hint of humor dancing in her eyes. "I slept alright, though I should be asking you the same. How about you? Did you rest well?" Her tone held a casual intelligence, like someone fully aware of her surroundings and yet sincere in her care.

"I did, thank you," Alonso said, his eyes softening. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he realized the depth of his comfort in her presence. "I'm grateful for your hospitality. It has been... some time since I've known such a thing."

Maria's smile widened, but she didn't press him further. "The kids are already off to school," she said, shifting the conversation smoothly. "Tom and Jack will be back around sunset. But you're heading to the library today, right?" She moved towards the cupboard and retrieved a small pouch, placing it into his hands. "Take this, you'll need it."

Alonso weighed the pouch in his palm, its unfamiliar currency jingling faintly. "You're too generous," he said quietly, glancing at her worn but steadfast home. "Surely you need this more than I do."

"Don't worry about me," Maria replied, her tone confident and assured. "I'll be collecting my reparations today, so money won't be a problem. You focus on what you need to do."

Alonso's sharp mind quickly pieced the puzzle together. The guards' discussions of coin, the treatment of other races, and the overall atmosphere of the city all pointed to a troubling conclusion—demi-humans had been enslaved not long ago in this kingdom. Maria, being an elf, had likely endured immense hardship herself. He realized that the reparations she spoke of were meant to pacify the demi-human communities and stave off potential unrest.

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"Thank you," he said, his voice carrying genuine sincerity. "I'll be on my way." He chose not to delve deeper into her past, sensing the weight of struggles she had faced—struggles he could only begin to imagine.

Stepping out of Maria's home, he followed her directions. After about 35 minutes of walking, he found what he was looking for: a striking pure white building with a brown chestnut door. Above it, the words "Grand Library" were elegantly etched.

Upon entering, he approached the receptionist and handed over 1 silver coin. The receptionist, with an emotionless expression, nodded and swiftly counted out his change, placing 50 bronze coins into Alonso's outstretched hand. The motion was practiced, devoid of warmth, as if she had performed the task a thousand times before. She then gestured toward the left, where shelves of books loomed. It was evident that years of repetitive work had dulled her spirit.

Alonso's eyes darted across the rows of neatly organized shelves, each brimming with volumes that promised untold knowledge but he quickly realized this was no place for hidden, arcane secrets—everything here was publicly available knowledge. The weight of disappointment brushed over him, but he wasted no time and began browsing.

He selected three books from the shelves: "Magic for Beginners," "The History of Magic," and "The Mysteries of Jobs." With a steady hand, he pulled the texts from their resting places and settled at a desk, savoring the quiet serenity of the library. It was still early morning, leaving the room empty, save for the occasional echo of distant footsteps.

Alonso's eyes flickered over the pages with intense focus, his genius-level intellect devouring the information at lightning speed. His fingers moved with practiced precision, turning page after page, absorbing vast amounts of knowledge in mere minutes. Within 25 minutes, he had finished all three volumes.

What he learned reshaped his understanding of this world. Magic, as described, was the physical manifestation of mana—an energy force present in all things, even inanimate objects. Although invisible, this energy constantly radiated from every entity, a phenomenon referred to as the World Law. Those who could harness their internal mana and connect it with the external mana in the world could manipulate elements by merging these energies. For instance, to summon fire, one had to fuse their mana with the mana of heat and oxygen to reshape reality.

Not everyone had the ability to perceive or use this power. Despite the universal presence of mana, only a rare few—one in a thousand—possessed the natural talent to connect with it and wield magic effectively.

Another revelation caught his attention: the concept of jobs. About 35% of humans were born with a genetic magical inheritance, marked by a tattoo-like birthmark on the back of their neck. These symbols dictated their natural proficiency in specific professions. A sword-shaped birthmark signified a swordsman, while a bow represented an archer. Other jobs ranged from warriors and mages to paladins, summoners, and elementalists.

Those born without a job were left to either attempt to master magic or settle for non-combat professions. However, some pursued martial arts, hoping to unlock a mysterious force called ki, a power said to rival magic but shrouded in secrecy, especially in the eastern lands.

Closing the last book with a quiet thud, Alonso leaned back, his mind racing with possibilities. He ran a hand through his hair, processing the wealth of new information, feeling a deepening appreciation for the complexity of this world.