The memories inhabiting Carl's mind, legacies from the body's previous owner, brought news of a recent royal announcement. The king, in an unexpected move, had declared that the assessment to identify the presence of magical cores would be fully sponsored by the crown that year. The intention behind this generous funding was no mystery: the monarch was in a frenetic search for new magical talents, a need that seemed to echo through the kingdom's corridors.
As a curious twist of fate - perhaps not so coincidental - the academy designated to conduct these assessments was located in Luminara, the very city where Carl had been reborn. It was a convergence point for aspiring magicians and warriors, a place where dreams could become reality or be crushed by harsh reality.
"This seems like a tutorial mission from a game," Carl reflected, with a half-smile, as he looked around the modest shack he now called home. It was a humble beginning, "Every badass protagonist needs a start," he thought.
After rummaging through the shack a bit, Carl found some copper coins, small discs that carried more than monetary value. "One copper is about equal to one dollar," Carl murmured, an echo of the memories he had assimilated. He continued, "a silver is worth ten dollars, and a gold a hundred dollars. And there are mana stones, which are worth fortunes, with the most basic being worth five gold coins." It was an economic system that intertwined with the mystical.
After a more thorough search, Carl counted ten copper coins, some clothing so worn they could barely be considered clothes, and an intriguing card. This last item was eye-catching: with a greenish appearance, it was a peculiar mix of stone and wood, with an indescribable texture to the touch. On the card, some information was inscribed along with a photograph of Carl's current face.
Delving into the inherited memories of the body, Carl discovered more about the peculiar functionality of the identification card. It was a fundamental item in society, where each individual had one, serving as a magical passport for everyday life. "It's like a master key to existence here," Carl thought, turning the card in his hands. This magical artifact was capable of dynamically altering its information, storing vital details about the owner. There was a mystical connection between the card and its owner, a link that transcended mere material and was made right after birth.
Carl pondered the implications of the card. If death befell the owner, the card would record this grim fact, displaying the date and time of death. This function became a valuable tool for bounty hunters and authorities, eliminating the need to transport bodies as proof. "A morbid, but efficient economy," Carl reflected. In a society where magic permeated even the most practical aspects of life, the line between the mundane and the extraordinary was surprisingly thin.
"Incredible," Carl whispered, amazed at the capabilities of the card. Besides its function as identification, he discovered that the card also served as a banking instrument, storing account information and enabling transactions like a credit card. "This takes magic to a new level," he thought, imagining the possibilities this integration of magic and technology could offer. "It's almost like a Swiss Army knife."
Carl left the card on the straw bed as he sat down to think. "First, I need to eat something, second I need real clothes, and third I need to take the exam."
Determined as a dog is to catch its own tail, Carl stood up, took his card and coins, and walked to the exit. When he opened the wooden door, a cold wind greeted his body. "I really need clothes," Carl spoke after all the hairs on his body stood on end. The thin rags he was now wearing would not be enough even to hold a baby's drool.
Carl looked left and right; the street was dirt, and the houses around were similar to his, shacks. The few people he saw were dressed the same way he was and did not have happy expressions on their faces. "According to the memories, there is a place where I can eat nearby."
Carl closed the door behind him and turned right, this direction led to the exit of the slum, where the city of Luminara itself was. While walking, he realized that the people of the slum lived in complete misery, he had seen some beggars sleeping in the corners of the street. Some children begging here and there.
"I need to get out of here as soon as possible," This thought passed through Carl's head whenever he saw a malnourished child begging. "If I stay here, I'll probably catch a disease," Carl was not a hypocrite, he knew very well that he would probably do nothing for those children, so pretending to care was also not something he would do.
"I've arrived." After walking for about five minutes, Carl reached a place that looked like a Fast-Food stall with
some tables around and some people eating. Carl approached, and a man around forty years old was preparing the meals. He saw Carl arrive and asked indifferently, "What will you have?" "Give me an egg sandwich," from Carl's memories, this was the only thing he could afford that would provide the necessary carbohydrates and proteins for him now.
The man did not respond and just began to prepare, while Carl sat at a simple wooden table nearby as he pondered what he had seen and felt so far. Carl was sitting in the shade, listening to the birds singing, looking at the blue sky, and feeling the cold but refreshing wind on his face. "Just not having to breathe that heavy air of the concrete and steel jungle is worth it."