— Well... I guess you really can't do anyone a favor these days.
Unwan checked his spiritual energy.
[27/1000]
He continued on his way. By his estimation, he was heading toward the southwestern part of the capital. The Shadow Cohort was located there, in front of an old historical building. It was quite far from where he currently stood. Even so, Unwan had deliberately chosen that particular cohort. For several reasons.
First, a cohort could not be named arbitrarily. According to the laws of the Shining Kingdom, a cohort's name could neither directly reflect nor contradict its core ability or primary power. Genius Nort had told Unwan this, though it was originally a regulation established by the kingdom itself, to make it easier for Owners to find a cohort suited to their nature. Everyone was meant to choose what fit them best.
Second, shadow. A shadow always remains behind the true person. That alone greatly reduced the chance of becoming famous. If this cohort's achievements truly remained in the shadows, then it was perfect for Unwan. It would secure his secrecy, and to some extent, his safety. After all, with such a powerful grimoire and such luck at his age, the likelihood of attracting attention was high.
And then there was the [Unliked] curse.
If he became famous, the consequences might not be pleasant.
As he walked toward the Shadow Cohort's headquarters, Unwan reflected on everything that had happened so far. Today, he had discovered several new things. For example, using the Changing Spell on himself to lighten his weight and increase his speed. He still lacked sufficient data about the phenomenon, but a number of experimental ideas were already forming in his mind.
Yet alongside these discoveries came a more bitter realization.
'So no matter how much good I do, I'll only ever appear as something bad in the eyes of others. Hah… what a wonderful world. Cruel. Incredibly cruel. You can never know what lies behind a person's face. And somehow, it always leans toward darkness. But what about those who genuinely want to do good? People don't like them. The system itself is so strange, so pitiful that it never truly allows you to be good. But…'
'Shut up. You're chewing through my brain. Do you ever stop talking?'
'Hah. What's wrong? Not enjoying it? You spew just as many irritating words at me. Sometimes I feel like strangling you. Now it's your turn to suffer.'
'Why should I suffer? You're the one standing in front of me. I'll just dump everything on you. Simple. I'll head peacefully toward eternity like the virtuous do, and you'll fall into the abyss.'
'Don't forget one thing. We share the same body. Unless you're just a glitch in my mind, we'll die at the same time.'
Silence followed. Perhaps that was enough. Regardless, it made for good company. Conversations like these often took unexpectedly interesting turns. Unwan was surprised at how quickly he had covered half the distance. He checked his spiritual energy again.
Spiritual Energy: [39/100]
— Well… at least if I end up in a worse situation, I have enough energy left for one spell.
Not a bad precaution.
***
Around what he guessed to be two in the afternoon, Unwan stood before an ancient structure. Its original purpose was unclear, but the craftsmanship and beauty in its construction were unmistakable. It resembled a coliseum. The pillars were made from a deep red material. Unwan suspected it might be Themir.
From inside came the sounds of battle: shouting, roaring, the cries of spectators. The noise carried clearly even outside. Unwan disliked the sound and instead searched for the Shadow Cohort's headquarters. He soon found it.
The building was large, blending into the residential district, yet easy to distinguish. It wasn't enormous, but far too spacious to be an ordinary home. A symbol marked its exterior: within a circular frame was the figure of a person, surrounded by runic inscriptions. The most striking detail was that the figure's shadow was unnaturally dark, like the depths of midnight itself.
Unwan stared at it for a moment, then stepped forward and approached the entrance. He opened the door.
Inside, he found himself in a nearly empty room. Several tables and chairs were arranged about, resembling a modest tavern or dining hall. There were two windows, and by one of them sat a man.
He had black, slightly messy hair and looked outwardly like an ordinary cohort member. As Unwan closed the door, the noise from outside vanished abruptly. The man took a sip from his glass and addressed him.
— Here to join the cohort?
— Y…
A sudden rumbling noise echoed from another room. Startled, Unwan's words caught in his throat.
— Yes.
— Sit.
Unwan approached the table and sat across from him. Though not immediately noticeable, several scars marked the man's face, some of them rather frightening. Despite that, he looked no older than thirty-five.
— "Want some water?" the man asked.
— I wouldn't say no.
The man placed a glass before him and, without breaking eye contact, cast a spell. The glass filled instantly.
— If you intend to join our cohort, you don't mind if I ask a few questions?
There was something in his tone. But Unwan knew the faint edge to it was caused by [Unliked]. Still, Unwan was staring at with an expressionless face.
— Go ahead.
— Very well. What's your name?
— Unwanted. Though you can just call me Unwan.
The man didn't comment. He simply continued.
— Where did you live before?
— At the Rolan Dantes Orphanage. Later, due to certain circumstances, I ended up here.
— What is the name of your grimoire?
Unwan hesitated briefly before answering.
— The Grimoire of the Universe. It might be easier if you see it yourself.
He handed his grimoire to the man seated before him.