Ethan stepped cautiously into the outskirts of the settlement, his mind racing. The man's words echoed in his ears: "If you're not with the Guild, you'd better keep moving."
The glowing marks on his hand were a beacon, broadcasting his status as a system user to anyone who looked closely. He glanced around, watching as the townsfolk cast wary glances his way, their eyes lingering on his faintly glowing hand before quickly looking away.
I need to figure out how to hide this, Ethan thought.
The buildings were simple, made of weathered wood and stone. A modest marketplace sprawled along the main street, with vendors peddling goods ranging from dried meats to rough textiles. Despite the air of normalcy, Ethan couldn't shake the tension in the atmosphere. People avoided meeting his gaze, and groups whispered among themselves, occasionally glancing in his direction.
A small child pointed at him, tugging on her mother's sleeve. "Look, Mama, his hand is glowing!"
The woman quickly hushed her child, pulling her away and disappearing into one of the buildings.
Ethan clenched his fist, trying to suppress the glow, but the marks continued to pulse faintly. He ducked into an alleyway between two buildings, leaning against the cool stone wall to catch his breath.
I can't keep walking around like this, he thought, frustration bubbling inside him. I'm like a walking target.
Closing his eyes, Ethan focused on the sensation in his hand. The glow wasn't just visible—it was something he could feel, like a low hum resonating from deep within him.
"Come on," he muttered. "If this system is part of me, there's gotta be a way to control it."
He concentrated, imagining the glow fading, willing it to dim. The hum in his hand wavered, flickering like a dying ember. For a brief moment, the glow dimmed before flaring back to life.
System notification: Concealment skill unavailable. Suggestion: Unlock camouflage skill.
Ethan groaned. "Of course, it's not that easy. Why would it be?"
He took a deep breath and stepped back into the street, scanning the area for anything that might help. His eyes landed on a stall selling leather gloves and rough cloth wraps.
"Perfect," Ethan muttered. He approached the vendor, an older man with a stooped back and a face weathered by years in the sun.
"Can I help you, stranger?" the man asked, eyeing Ethan warily.
"Yeah, how much for the gloves?" Ethan asked, pointing at a pair of thick leather gloves.
"Two silver," the vendor replied.
Ethan froze. Money. I don't have money. He reached into his pocket, pulling out nothing but a small shard of the crystal he'd taken from the wolf earlier. It gleamed faintly in the light.
The vendor's eyes widened. "Is that a mana shard?"
Ethan blinked. "Uh… yeah. Will this cover it?"
The man snatched the shard from Ethan's hand, examining it closely before nodding. "More than enough. Take the gloves."
Ethan slipped them on, the leather rough against his skin. They were slightly loose, but they covered the glowing marks completely. Relief washed over him as he flexed his fingers, ensuring the glow didn't seep through.
"Thanks," Ethan said, turning to leave.
"Wait," the vendor called after him. Ethan paused, glancing back. "You didn't get that shard from the forest, did you?"
Ethan hesitated. "Why?"
The man leaned in, his voice lowering. "Because if you did, you're lucky to be alive. That place has been crawling with Guild scouts lately. They're looking for something—or someone."
Ethan's stomach tightened. He forced a casual tone. "Good to know. Thanks for the tip."
The vendor nodded, his gaze lingering on Ethan as he walked away.
With his glowing hand now concealed, Ethan felt slightly less exposed as he wandered deeper into the town. But the weight of the vendor's words hung heavy in his mind.
The Guild is looking for someone. Could it be me?
He spotted a small inn at the end of the main street, its sign swinging gently in the breeze. The words "The Weary Traveler" were painted in faded lettering.
Ethan stepped inside, the scent of ale and roasted meat washing over him. The room was dimly lit, with a scattering of patrons sitting at wooden tables. A woman behind the bar glanced up, her sharp eyes narrowing as she took him in.
"You looking for a room?" she asked.
"Yeah," Ethan replied, pulling out another mana shard. "This enough?"
Her expression softened at the sight of the shard. "It'll get you a night and a meal."
Ethan nodded and handed it over. She gestured to a small staircase in the corner. "Room's at the top. Supper's at sundown."
"Thanks," Ethan said, heading upstairs.
Inside the modest room, Ethan sat on the edge of the bed, his mind racing. He pulled off the gloves, staring at the glowing marks on his hand.
This system is more trouble than it's worth, he thought. But if the Guild really is after me, I need to figure out how to use it—and fast.
He clenched his fist, determination hardening in his chest. The system might make him a target, but it was also his best chance of surviving in this world.
"Tomorrow," Ethan muttered, pulling the gloves back on, "I find answers."
With that, he lay back on the bed, exhaustion finally overtaking him. But even as he drifted off to sleep, he couldn't shake the feeling that someone—or something—was watching.