CHAPTER 154: REST DAY (2)

Lucen walked back to the couch, grabbed his jacket, grey, soft, with a small tear at the left wrist, and muttered, "You’re just mad I get XP for existing."

"Tell me you don’t," Gen said without looking back.

Lucen smiled faintly. ’I really do.’

—

Outside, the sun hit hard. The air smelled like car exhaust and bakery sugar, someone on the corner was selling cinnamon bread again. The city pulsed quiet but alive. People moved, slowly. Not in a rush. Just enough activity to feel real.

They walked down the main strip toward the Guild’s smaller training lot. Not the flashy tower. Just the open dirt field with warded fencing and beat-up dummies.

Lucen paused at a vendor. "One," he said, pointing.

The guy handed him a paper-wrapped chunk of still-warm bread. Lucen bit it. Steam rose from the middle.

System pinged.

Mood Stabilizer Activated. Comfort food detected. XP +3

Gen walked behind him, shaking his head. "You’re so spoiled."

"I killed a mana serpent the size of a civic bus."

"Yeah. And then ate cinnamon bread like a twelve-year-old."

Lucen wiped sugar off his hand. "Balanced life."

—

The training lot was mostly empty. One group in the corner, archer types practicing rapid reload drills. Another trio doing weighted cardio. One guy meditating in a strange full-body suit that looked like it vacuum-sealed his regrets.

Lucen flopped down onto a bench under the shade tarp. His sword sat leaned against the rack. Still clean. Still quiet.

Gen grabbed a practice baton and did a lazy twirl.

"You wanna stretch or nap?"

Lucen tapped open his system and checked his logs. "Gonna tune agility markers. Lateral jumps. Forward burst. Keep the heartbeat above fifty."

Gen grinned. "So we’re pretending you’re training while lounging in the grass."

Lucen leaned back. "Exactly."

—

Time passed slow. The wind picked up a little. Dust danced across the field. Someone’s training spear clattered to the ground. Someone else cursed under their breath.

Lucen’s system flashed:

Micro-stamina cycle completed. Core intake rate holding.

Agility sync progress: 11%

Attribute growth path: Stable

He looked up at the clouds. ’Do I get paid for being emotionally balanced, or do I have to cry first?’

"Hey," Gen said, throwing a towel at him. "You planning on getting up at some point?"

Lucen caught it. "I got up this morning."

"Barely. You slouched to the fridge like you were fifty."

Lucen stood slowly, stretching. "That fridge owes me money."

Gen laughed. "Alright, Grandpa. Let’s do light drills. I’ll time your side steps."

They moved to the open range. Lucen kept his sword sheathed. Gen held up his comm unit, thumb hovering over the timer.

Lucen narrowed his eyes. Focused.

The timer beeped.

He exploded forward.

—

By the end of the third run, his shirt was soaked. Knees burning. System interface glowing hotter than usual.

Agility Chain Progression

Slide: +1

Dash Sync: +1

XP: +23

—

They sat again under the tarp.

Lucen wiped sweat from his chin. The back of his neck itched.

Gen leaned over, resting elbows on knees. "So, rest day. Going great."

Lucen let out a breath. "Hey. This is slow for me."

Gen looked at him. "You’re a freak. Y’know that?"

Lucen smirked. "That’s what makes me lovable."

Gen stared. "No. That’s what makes you uninsurable."

Lucen laughed once and leaned his head back. The sky was bright. System still hovering, passive mode now.

He let it sit there. Quiet.

He thought, ’I can deal with rest days like this.’

And for a moment, it actually felt true.

—

Lucen didn’t move right away. He kept his head tilted toward the sky, but his eyes dropped, just a fraction. Enough to see the edge of movement near the fencing past the southern row of target dummies.

Someone was there. Still.

Too still.

He didn’t make a scene. Just let the sweat keep rolling down his neck while one hand rested near his water bottle. His system blinked softly in his periphery. No active alerts. No combat flags.

Which meant either it wasn’t a threat.

Or it was something worse.

Gen didn’t notice. He was still talking. "And I told her, like, the elevator doesn’t actually work unless you press the—hey. You listening?"

"Sort of."

Gen followed his line of sight and squinted toward the fence. "What, that guy?"

Lucen nodded. "Been standing there a while."

The man wasn’t part of their guild. Lucen was sure of that. He wore a coat too clean, long like a coatdress, pale gray with embroidery down one sleeve, sleeveless on the other side, odd symmetry. Hair white. Not silver. Not gray. Just white like sunburned snow.

He was tall. Maybe older. Hard to say. Expression unreadable.

He stood with one hand resting against the warded post like he had every right to be there, but wasn’t in a rush to prove it.

Lucen exhaled through his nose. ’Too clean to be a regular. Too patient to be harmless.’

Gen tilted his head. "You want me to go ask?"

"No. Just... let’s watch."

The man didn’t approach. But he also didn’t leave. A breeze kicked up, tossing some loose leaves down the lot. The guy didn’t even blink. His gaze stayed on Lucen, direct, like he was measuring something.

Lucen felt it. Right in the back of the skull.

’That’s not curiosity. That’s intent.’

System pinged. Not a threat flag. Just a passive tag:

[Notice: Active Gaze Identified]

[Viewpoint classified: UNKNOWN]

[Target: YOU]

He didn’t love that.

Gen leaned a little closer, voice lower. "Okay. Now I think he’s actually watching you."

"You don’t say."

"He got the look, man. Y’know. One of those hunter-turned-bureau types."

Lucen’s jaw twitched. "You think he’s a bureau man?"

"I said bureau-adjacent."

"Same thing."

Lucen stood up slow, grabbed the towel, and slung it over his shoulder. He didn’t walk toward the guy. Just angled off to the side like he wasn’t paying attention and stopped at the equipment rack.

He turned slightly.

The guy was still watching him.

Still no movement.

Lucen wiped at his arms like nothing was wrong, but his system pulsed again.