His consciousness reconnected, and waves of dizziness kept pounding at his cerebellum. His stomach churned violently, threatening to overturn itself.
"Ugh…"
The feast he had eaten earlier at Misaki's place was now completely thrown back up.
"I don't remember ever hearing that traveling through space would feel this awful…"
Of course, Makoto had studied the basics of spatial theory.
After all, he was technically an LV1 in Space Distortion—no one could deny that he at least had the potential for progress.
Makoto hadn't given up entirely, so he had continued studying what he could.
But the fact that space travel brought such intense vertigo—that was something he was learning for the very first time.
"…Well, at least I feel like I'm starting to get used to it a little."
Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped the corner of his mouth.
Then, for the first time in this new world, Makoto straightened his posture and took in the view around him.
What greeted his eyes was a highly modernized city.
Before him stretched a paved asphalt road, flanked on both sides by shops. Rows of street trees and evenly spaced utility poles lined the sidewalks.
At a glance, there was nothing particularly out of the ordinary.
But that was exactly the problem.
"A purely modern city, huh…"
Just thinking about it was enough to understand where the trouble lay.
The biggest problem was identity.
If he had ended up in an ancient city, nobody would have cared about that.
But in a modern world, every person was born with documentation—birth certificates, records, proof of existence.
And that was just the beginning.
"…First things first, I need to gather basic information about this world. Hopefully, it's a world I actually know something about…"
With that thought, Makoto shook his head and vanished from the alleyway where he had first arrived in this other world.
Inside a bookstore, Makoto sat in one of the reading chairs, flipping through book after book.
This was one of the advantages of a modern city: basic intel was relatively easy to find.
After all, whatever happened in history—or was happening now—would be recorded somewhere.
The internet was one possible source of information.
Unfortunately, Makoto had no device to connect to it.
Libraries were another option.
But most libraries required some kind of ID to enter, and Makoto had none.
That left only one alternative: the bookstore.
As long as he pretended to browse with the intent to buy, he could get away with skimming through a large number of books.
No money, no ID—it didn't matter.
Right now, that was his method.
He switched books at a rapid pace, skimming a few pages from each before moving on to the next.
"…The League of Mage-Knight Nations? Blazers?"
These two terms made Makoto frown. A wry, uncomfortable smile spread across his face.
The reason was simple.
He searched his memory thoroughly, but nothing came up. No strong impression, no recognition.
In other words, this was probably a completely unknown world to him.
"…Figures. Well, it is what it is."
He pushed away his frustration and continued reading.
Blazers.
They were people capable of manifesting their very soul as a weapon—"Devices"—and channeling their magic through it.
Individuals with this ability were extremely rare.
In ancient times, such people would have been called sages, witches, or magicians.
The weapons formed by their manifested souls came in endless varieties: holy swords, staffs, magic bows, treasured relics. Their abilities were just as diverse, shaped by the nature of their owners.
Some could manipulate time and space itself, while others were little more than superhuman athletes.
Ordinary Blazers typically graduated from internationally certified academies for Blazers, where they would earn their licenses as Magic Knights.
Only then were they legally allowed to use their powers.
It was clear: this world's system of regulation for the gifted was strict.
Maybe not quite as suffocating as Academy City's, but still tight enough.
And just like in Academy City, the importance of schools here couldn't be overstated.
"…Which means I'm facing the same damn problem again, huh."
Makoto shut the book with a snap, sighed, and walked out of the shop.
"Identity. How the hell am I going to solve that…?"
There was no question: in this world, schools were critical, as the books had made clear.
That meant he'd need to enroll in one of those internationally recognized Blazer academies.
But to do that, he needed a proper, legitimate identity. Something that could at least fool the system.
And right now, he had nothing of the sort.
"Man, I really wish I had an Electromaster's power, or something like Misaki's ability…"
He couldn't help but feel envious at the thought.
If he had an electrical ability, hacking into networks and creating false identities would be trivial.
In a modern, digital society, that was one of the most useful powers imaginable.
If he had Misaki's Mental Out, it would be even simpler—just grab someone and rewrite them into a puppet.
But he had neither.
And that was the root of his current headache.
"…Wait a second. This is starting to feel a little familiar."
Makoto rubbed his chin in thought, standing quietly in the corner of the street.
Suddenly, his eyes lit up, as if he'd stumbled upon something.
He recalled an article he had skimmed earlier in a newspaper.
And then he remembered something Shokuhou Misaki had once let slip.
Slowly, a daring possibility began to take shape in his mind.
"…Yeah. It might actually work."
Crossing his arms, he tapped his fingers rhythmically against his arm, though his brows remained furrowed.
"But even if that method works, I'll still need a Device first. If I can't solve that, the whole plan collapses."
With a flick of his wrist, a crimson card appeared between his fingers.
"I wonder if what Shiroyasha gave me will actually work here… And more importantly—does this world's system even deserve for me to use it?"