Jack pushed himself off the ground once more... fighting against the pain that flared through his body.
Slowly, he reached out—grabbing his wallet on the ground... then the crumpled dollar bill beside it, before pocketing both.
But as he tried to walk off, his balance wavered, his body still reeling from the pain... especially the agonizing ache in his side—
It felt like cracked ribs, though he couldn't be sure.
Still, he gritted his teeth and forced himself forward... pushing his body past its limits, just to make it out of the alleyway.
And as Jack stumbled out, the city stretched before him—a concrete jungle of hastily rebuilt structures... with their walls still bearing the scars of the past.
The scars from the day of 'Chaosfall.'
Yet, despite the signs of recovery...
The people here carried an air of quiet despair.
Pedestrians moved with their heads lowered, shoulders hunched, their eyes locked solely either to the front... or to the ground.
As if they were afraid to acknowledge anything beyond their own struggles.
And thus... not one of them spared Jack a glance.
Not at his battered form—not at the blood trailing from his wounds.
They didn't care… or perhaps, they simply didn't want to get involved with whatever trouble he had gotten himself into.
And Jack... exhaled sharply—he understood their ignorance.
And so... he never expected their pity.
Not when he had long since learned that survival often demanded indifference.
So... right now, the only thing on his mind was getting himself patched up.
With sluggish steps, he forced himself forward, his feet dragging against the pavement—heading toward a certain spot in town... one that could at least get him back on his feet.
But as he continued to walk, a row of televisions flickered to life behind the cracked display window of a small electronics store, their vibrant screens standing out against the otherwise dull cityscape—
The news was playing.
A polished voice spoke over the footage of an armored team emerging from the depths of a dungeon, their figures illuminated by bright camera lights.
"—Another victory for humanity! Today, the elite raid party, 'King's Sword,' has successfully conquered the infamous S-Class dungeon—the Abyssal Maw!"
"..."
Jack watched in silence, his gaze lingering on the flickering screen... somewhat interested in these 'Card-Holders.'
The camera zoomed in on one 'Holder' in particular—a handsome blonde man at the front of the group, a warrior clad in gleaming silver armor. With a smirk, he held up a sleek golden card between his fingers, flashing it toward the camera.
"With the M-Card, nothing is impossible," he declared proudly. "We're proving that humanity will always rise above!"
Applause and cheers erupted from the broadcast studio, accompanied by the animated chatter of commentators praising the 'brave adventurers' and their latest success.
"—Experts claim this marks another step toward reclaiming the land we lost during the Chaosfall—"
"...What a load of bull..." Jack muttered under his breath, his tone laced with quiet disdain.
He was the only one who cared enough to stop and react to the news... because everyone else didn't even bother to glance at it—because they all knew the truth.
Dungeons weren't being wiped out as fast as they needed to be.
In fact, their appearance and clearing out were being controlled... like some kind of farm—managed by those with power.
Jack knew this too... and he only gave a slight sneer before looking away, resuming his sluggish pace.
Right now... he had far more pressing matters to deal with than gawking at celebrities he would never even meet.
But then—
He bumped into someone.
Jack grunted slightly from the impact, his wounds aching from it, but he gritted his teeth, trying to ignore both the pain and the stranger—
But—
"Hey, young man. You dropped something."
"—!"
A man's voice called from behind him, making him halt.
For a second, he wasn't even sure if the words were meant for him… but, driven by curiosity, he turned his head.
And there—
A man in a bowler hat stood, smiling, holding out a familiar wallet.
"It seems that you dropped your wallet~."
Jack stared blankly at the smiling man in the bowler hat, somewhat stunned by the unassuming appearance of this... gentleman before him.
He couldn't quite put into words just how strange this man was.
A clean suit and a smiling visage.
A stark contrast to the world around them, where people simply passed by with their ragged appearances and constant frowns... beaten down by the harsh reality of the new world they lived in.
And speaking of those same passersby... not a single one of them seemed to care about their strange interaction unfolding in the middle of a busy pedestrian sidewalk.
Not to him—with his bloodied, beaten form... nor to the well-dressed, smiling gentleman—
"Is there something the matter, young man?"
"...!"
The gentleman in the bowler hat suddenly spoke, snapping Jack out of his reverie—startling him.
"...Are you talking to me...?" Jack asked cautiously.
The gentleman only tilted his head, an amused smile etched on his face at Jack's apparent caution toward him.
"Why, of course, I'm talking to you," he chuckled lightly, shaking the wallet in his hand. "Is this not your wallet, young man?"
"..."
Jack could only stare silently at the wallet, still wary.
...He knew it was his—the same worn-out black wallet with a few small scuffs he had long grown accustomed to.
But... even if it was his wallet, he couldn't understand the gentleman's act of kindness.
He shifted his gaze back to the man's ever-present smile, his expression unwavering... as if he were genuinely puzzled by Jack's hesitation toward him.
In a world where everyone was too occupied with their own lives and struggles... a stranger showing kindness felt almost out of place.
Especially in a world where everything revolved around wealth—where survival hinged on money and power—someone actually returning a wallet felt... off.
After the emergence of the M-System, people had become more materialistic than ever.
Hoarding wealth wasn't just about greed anymore... it was survival, a matter of life and death.
So... why?
Jack's confusion must have been obvious, because the gentleman in the bowler hat let out another chuckle before nudging the wallet toward him once more—a silent insistence.
Jack hesitated for a moment longer before finally relenting.
With a quiet exhale, he reached out, fingers curling around the worn leather as he took it from the man's hand.
His wallet. Thin. Worn. Just as he remembered.
There was nothing strange about it. No tricks. No catch.
Just... a simple act of kindness.
Jack's grip tightened slightly before he muttered, barely above a whisper, "...Thanks."
"Haha~, you're very welcome," the gentleman said with a soft chuckle. He then tipped his bowler hat, adding, "Well, then... good luck, Mr. Jack Conrad."
Before turning and walking away.
Jack barely registered his farewell at first. His gaze remained fixed on the wallet, his thoughts still tangled in confusion. But then—
"...!"
Something clicked in his head!
"Wait... did you just..."
His head snapped up in realization, but... as his gaze darted around, scanning the crowd in front of him...
The gentleman... was gone.
"...Huh?"
The sidewalk stretched ahead, filled with the usual flow of weary pedestrians trudging along their way. Yet... the man in the bowler hat had vanished without a trace.
No sign of his neatly pressed suit... and no trace of that particular eye-catching bowler hat.
Had he simply blended into the crowd? Slipped into an alleyway? Turned a corner just out of sight?
Jack's fingers tightened around his wallet.
"What the hell...?"