Kyrian walked through the bustling street with no apparent hurry. His steps were calm, measured, like those of someone who wasn’t heading anywhere in particular. But his eyes remained alert, scanning the crowd with a precision that bordered on the supernatural.

People continued their routines as normal.

Merchants advertised their goods with overlapping shouts, offers, promotions, and "last units available!", creating a cacophony of sounds that filled the air.

Cultivators discussed prices, examining merchandise with critical eyes, fingers running over fabrics and metals.

Children ran between the stalls, laughing, shouting, full of life.

No one seemed to notice the man Kyrian was looking for.

Or perhaps no one was capable of noticing him. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

Kyrian remembered perfectly the appearance he had seen from across the street.

A man of average height, neither tall nor short. Easy to lose in a crowd.

Simple gray robes, without embroidery, symbols, or identifying marks. The kind of clothing anyone could be wearing.

Black hair tied behind his head in a low bun, discreet and practical.

Nothing flashy. Nothing memorable.

If not for the needle he had thrown, if Kyrian had not possessed his eyes, he would never have paid attention to him.

’He doesn’t want to be noticed.’ Kyrian thought.

’He’s skilled at it. Very skilled.’

Kyrian followed in the direction the man had taken.

The broad streets of the commercial district, with their decorated facades, golden signs, and polished stone sidewalks, gradually gave way to narrower alleys.

The buildings here were older. The gray stone walls were stained by time, covered with moss in some places and cracked in others.

Clothes dried hanging from improvised balconies, secured by ropes stretched from one window to another across the alley.

Ceramic dishes were stacked in wooden crates beside half-open doors.

The smell of the place changed.

The aroma of medicinal herbs, which had previously blended with the scent of the markets, was now stronger but also harsher. It mixed with the unpleasant odor of sewage running through an open channel in the center of the alley.

The number of people decreased drastically.

Where there had once been crowds, dozens, hundreds of people, now there were only a few. One or two hurried passersby. A woman is sweeping the sidewalk in front of her home. A black cat crossing the alley before disappearing into a crack in the wall.

’He’s heading toward less crowded areas.’ Kyrian realized.

’Away from curious eyes.’

’Intentional? Or simply his route?’

Kyrian continued following.

The alleys grew even narrower. The walls were closer together, so close that Kyrian could touch them with his arms outstretched.

The sky, once visible as a blue strip above the rooftops, was now only a pale line high above.

The light dimmed. The shadows deepened.

And Kyrian finally caught sight of the man’s back. About fifty meters ahead.

He walked without haste, with steady steps and a constant pace. His posture was relaxed, as if he were merely taking a stroll.

As if he didn’t know he was being followed.

’Or...’ Kyrian thought.

’He knows. And doesn’t care.’

Kyrian followed him for about ten minutes.

Not too closely, maintaining a safe distance, enough not to lose sight of the man, but not close enough to draw attention.

Kyrian wanted to speak with the man, but he didn’t know exactly how to stop him and start a conversation. And precisely because of that, he simply continued following him without trying to attract his attention.

Kyrian began to realize that perhaps he lacked experience communicating with others of his own species.

They crossed secondary streets. Circled smaller plazas. Passed behind temples and pavilions.

The scenery changed constantly.

One moment, they were in a residential area, with low houses, wooden doors, and small gardens in front of the facades.

The next, they were in a warehouse district, with iron gates, stacked barrels, and parked carts.

The man seemed familiar with those streets.

’This isn’t his first time here.’ Kyrian concluded.

’He knows the way. He knows where he’s going.’

Finally, after a few more turns, the man entered a narrow alley.

Kyrian stopped at the entrance. Observed.

The stone walls were old, much older than those in the commercial district. Some bore tool marks, as though they had been carved by hand. Others were covered with worn inscriptions, words that time had erased.

Clothes dried hanging between the upper-story windows, secured by ropes swaying in the wind.

The scent of medicinal herbs was stronger here, blending with the unpleasant odor of sewage running through an open channel in the center of the alley.

’This place is truly forgotten compared to the rest of the city.’ Kyrian thought.

Then... Kyrian stopped.

Ahead, about twenty meters away, a figure was leaning against the wall.

Arms crossed over his chest. As if waiting for someone. Or rather... waiting for him.

The man raised his eyes.

His face was ordinary, so ordinary that Kyrian doubted he could describe it to someone afterward.

Apparently, he was a little over thirty years old. But his eyes were strangely calm.

Not the calm of someone relaxed. But the calm of someone who had seen many things. Someone for whom nothing was surprising anymore.

"You followed me for quite a while."

His voice was tranquil. Without irritation. Without nervousness. Simply... tranquil.

Kyrian observed the man.

"You noticed."

"Of course." The man shrugged, a casual, indifferent gesture.

"So?"

"Why are you following me?"

Kyrian didn’t answer immediately. Instead... he raised his hand.

Between his fingers appeared an extremely fine needle. So fine that it seemed invisible, a thread of shining metal, almost nonexistent.

The man’s gaze appeared to falter for a single fraction of a second. Just a fraction. But Kyrian noticed.

"Do you know what this is?"

The man looked away from the needle.

"No."

"Maybe you found a piece of trash on the street."

Kyrian remained silent for a few seconds. Then he spoke.

"You threw it."

The man raised an eyebrow.

"Are you sure?"

"I am."

"Then why are you asking?"

Kyrian observed his reaction. His eyes did not avert. His hands did not tremble. His breathing did not falter. It didn’t seem like a lie.