June 13. That was the one date Aren could never forget, a date even more indelible than the day of his birth.

  He remembered it very clearly. He had been enjoying lunch with his parents. It was around one in the afternoon when the results of a crucial, life-altering examination were announced. That meal became the last he ever shared with them.

  Soon afterward, he found himself deliberately avoiding their company.

  Every time he looked at his mother’s face, he was reminded of the hopeless expression he had seen that day. And his father’s loud silence, echoed even louder in his memory.

  Just as he had begun to come to terms with himself, that damned dragon had abducted him to this world.

  Whenever he thought of it, a particular novel surfaced in his mind, and a word he found strangely compelling.

  “Have you ever felt as though all hope was gone? As though the only thing left behind was your own voice, echoing endlessly in the darkness, an empty, suffocating darkness? Then you feel it, those gazes from the shadows surrounding you.

  “Eyes filled with pity, contempt, derision, dismissiveness… and disappointment.

  “You must have. After all, that is what shapes society into what it is.”

  At first, Aren thought he was the only pitiful one. But soon he discovered it was far more common than he had imagined. In fact, it was so common that they had even invented a word for it: “Despair.”

  At first glance, it sounded like a term used by highly educated individuals to convey wisdom in conversation.

  But soon Aren came to the realization that it was one of the three words that described his life perfectly, along with Alone and Fantasy novels.

  And now it weighed even more.

  ‘How much more pathetic can I be? A failure in two worlds.’

  The room in which Aren was staying, Miss Mira’s son’s room, had a large glass window covered by a thick iron cage.

  Looking at it, Aren frowned.

  ‘What a shame. The view of the sky could have been incredible, if not for this. A sky without a sun… actually, it makes it easier to look at it directly.’

  Then he sighed.

  ‘But the poets must struggle to describe love without the sun, moon, and stars.’

  He jumped onto the bed and watched the table clock as its hands ticked forward.

  Every time he foolishly closed his eyes, he relived that event. It was indeed better to pass the night in the realm of his imagination.

  That night, he pondered many things. How was heat generated without a sun? How did plant life grow? How did these planets continue functioning under magical phenomena so completely different from his own world?

  But in the end, his thoughts drifted back to the same memory.

  Failing his second great test in a single lifetime.

  *****

  It took a long night for the light to appear again. Nevertheless, it finally did, bringing an end to Aren’s arduous struggle upon a sleepless bed.

  After completing his usual morning tasks, he finally made his way down to the kitchen. Miss Mira was there. Her thin glasses rested comfortably upon the bridge of her nose, and her smile remained bright, despite the fact that she should have been looking at him with disappointment.

  A smile he knew too well.

  And that only deepened Aren’s despair.

  “You’re finally here. Did you sleep well?” she asked gently.

  “Yes,” Aren replied. Even though he could see the faint heaviness beneath her eyes behind the lenses of her glasses.

  “Good. Then let’s eat.”

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  On the small planet of Kita, it was customary to eat heavily in the morning and lightly at night. As such, the dining table was filled with an abundant spread of food.

  Throughout the meal, the two remained almost entirely silent,

  Aren’s uneasiness steadily mounting.

  ‘What should I do now? Is there truly no other choice? Do I have to live an ordinary life in this world, waiting to die in some monster attack? Damn it. It’s so unfair. Damn it. Damn it. Think, Aren, think. There must be another way.’

  At that moment, his gaze fell upon his pants pocket. The fabric bulged slightly, its surface rigid, as though something rested inside.

  Shielding his movement beneath the table, he discreetly retrieved the joker card.

  ‘Ah, that clown… Huh. He did say he had a way to awaken Mana within me… Should I? No. No, that’s foolish.’

  “You’re unusually quiet today,” Miss Mira observed, her tone perceptive.

  Perhaps she had noticed his discomfort.

  “No, I—”

  “It’s alright, you know,” she interrupted softly. “Life doesn’t stop just because you failed at something.”

  She leaned slightly closer and gently clasped his hand.

  “Always remember, there is always another door. You’re simply wearing sunglasses in the dark, unable to see it.”

  Aren let out a faint chuckle. “Heh… was that a joke or advice?”

  “It can be whatever you want it to be,” she replied with a knowing smile.

  “Then what do you suggest I do to find this door?”

  “Just remove your sunglasses.”

  “...”

  She removed her glasses and offered him a faint, tender smile.

  “Remove your despair, and look at the world with fresh eyes.”

  Aren chuckled softly. “I understand.”

  *****

  It was no small feat to persuade Mira to let him go for a walk. She relented only after Aren promised to stay away from rivers and bridges. And, of course, this time he remembered to ask for the address so he could find his way back on his own.

  After walking a short distance, he took out the joker card and frowned slightly.

  ‘He looked rather cool when he said I could find him just by holding his card in my hand. But now… it feels ridiculous.’

  He lifted his gaze to the road ahead of him, where three streets branched off in different directions.

  ‘Now what? Which way am I supposed to go? This damned card doesn’t even have an address, just the picture of a joker.’

  At that moment, Aren heard the heavy rumble of something rolling toward him.

  When he glanced back, a cold shiver ran down his neck.

  “Groolll!”

  A dragon-drawn carriage was hurtling straight at him, mere moments from collision.

  “Eh—what?!”

  Without wasting another second, Aren bolted down the street to his left. Yet the carriage pursued him at a terrifying speed.

  In a distance he spotted a narrow alley. He darted into it without hesitation. Only then did he dare to breathe, relief washing over him as the carriage thundered past and vanished from sight.

  “What the hell was that? I thought I was going to die.” He exhaled shakily. “Miss Mira definitely wouldn’t have liked that.”

  He took several heavy breaths and resumed walking aimlessly, the joker card clasped in his hand.

  The alley was narrow, a slim passage wedged between two houses.

  Emerging from it, he glanced cautiously around for any sign of the dragon carriage before heading toward the nearest corner.

  Once again, he found himself confronted with a choice between two paths.

  ‘I really hate choosing. I’d rather have someone choose for me… like it has always been.’

  He sighed and turned left.

  At that moment, a faint humming sound descended from above.

  Looking up, he instinctively recoiled as he saw an electric pole toppling toward the street.

  A thunderous booming sound resounded as it struck the ground, and a cloud of dust billowed past Aren while the fallen pole sent nearby pedestrians into alarm.

  Whether from shock or from the belated realization that it had narrowly missed him, Aren staggered backward and collapsed onto the ground.

  A middle-aged man came running and helped him to his feet.

  “Are you all right?” the man asked with evident concern.

  “Yes, I’m not hurt.” Aren shook his head.

  “Be careful. It must be your unlucky day.”

  With that, the man offered him some water. In the end, Aren decided to take the right path instead.

  ‘Damn it. Is my luck truly that abysmal? Or is this coincidence far too abnormal?’

  He soon reached a bend in the road. After hesitating for a long moment, he turned to the left. However, rather than proceeding fully in that direction, he nervously took a single tentative step.

  The instant he did, a wave of water splashed toward him, missing him by the narrowest of margins.

  “Ah…”

  “Sorry! I didn’t see you there,” an old shopkeeper said, bowing apologetically. It seemed he had thrown the water out while cleaning his storefront.

  “Tch… this is no coincidence.” Aren frowned, realizing the card in his hand was anything but ordinary.

  For a brief moment, he felt the urge to tear the card apart. Yet in the end, he decided to meet the joker, the man’s words still echoed in his mind.

  Turning toward the right path, he stood in silence. He glanced at the card in his hand, then back at the cobblestone road. Though he was undeniably apprehensive about the card, he had to fortify his resolve. And he had more than enough reasons to do so.

  ‘All right, fine. You’re a sorcerer, you damned clown.’

  Grinding his teeth, he took a step forward, only to pull it back immediately.

  This time, however, nothing happened. He repeated the action three more times and, on the fourth attempt, finally walked ahead.

  And indeed, nothing happened.

  Such “coincidences” continued to occur, though none as perilous as the first two, they were misfortunes nonetheless. After wandering for nearly an hour, Aren finally realized he was lost.

  At that moment, he heard a familiar voice in the distance, accompanied by the delighted chatter of children and a handful of adult spectators.

  They formed a circle around a man with clown face paint, dressed in an immaculate three-piece suit, their eyes brimming with eager anticipation.

  The man’s red-painted, extravagantly curled smile widened further as he removed his hat and snapped his fingers. The instant he did, balloons began emerging from the small, empty space within it. The gathered crowd erupted into applause, their faces glowing with wonder.

  Then the man’s gaze shifted toward Aren. He smiled once more as he said, “So, you finally came.”