After hearing my plan and resolute words—Cindy finally accepted my suggestion that we split up.
She gave me one last look before giving a reluctant nod, turning on her heel to walk toward the main transit hub with quick, deliberate steps. I watched her go, making sure she reached the main street safely before I pulled my own hood slightly lower and slipped away in the opposite direction.
The reason I was able to hide in the Blackthorne Residence until now even though they were already being suspected on is by a miraculous luck—be it something major happened in the family that required more attention or whatever, but the eyes of the elders didn’t reach me.
Perhaps the high-ranking members of the main branch were bogged down by political infighting, or maybe they simply underestimated how desperate the original Vael had been.
Also, the fact that their house was near the academy was a big help.
I wouldn’t waste this luck by being caught.
I wasn’t about to hand my life over to those elders on a silver platter after working so hard to build up my physical stats and polish my magic.
’Whoever are out there to catch me, they probably expects me to hide and blend in with the crowd. Thinking that I would do that because they can’t attack me in public.’
It was the most basic assumption anyone would make about a fleeing fugitive. Public places like crowded train stations, busy plazas, and packed streets provided a natural human shield, making it extremely difficult for assassins to draw weapons without creating an immediate panic or attracting law enforcement.
But instead of doing that—I will go through an empty route and ride a different train with a different destination. I just need to be close to the academy—then after that; I can just walk the rest there.
It was a counter-intuitive approach, but that was precisely why it had a higher chance of working. If I avoided the primary transit hubs altogether, their scouts watching the main gates and public platforms would be wasting their time waiting for me.
*****
Following my own plan, I avoided crowded places and used empty routes.
I stuck to narrow service roads, industrial alleys, and quiet residential lanes, keeping my back to the walls and constantly checking my surroundings. My heart hammered against my ribs.
Adn then I stopped, I’m currently having trouble of finding a way to get into the station without being spotted.
I know they’re keeping an eye on every station around the academy.
The elders had covered their bases surprisingly well. Attempting to buy a ticket or pass through those gates would force me into a tight bottleneck where my identity could be verified in seconds.
"Haaa... What now?"
I whispered under my breath.
I leaned back against the brick wall of a quiet side street, letting out a soft sigh as I mentally calculated my remaining options. Time was steadily ticking away.
Then I touched my hair and brushed it with my hand.
Feeling the texture of my fringe, a faint wave of relief washed over me.
"This is really useful."
I said.
Right now, the color of my hair is pink, not white.
It was a bright, eye-catching shade that completely disguised my natural, high-visibility Frostguard white hair.
Cindy had a temporary hair dye and gave it to me, it’s pink because we couldn’t buy a new one. After all, if the elders caught a wind of it, that they bought a hair dye—then that’s like confirming they’re hiding me.
It was really lucky that Cindy tried to dyed her hair before, and some are left.
She had apparently bought it months ago out of pure curiosity before deciding against using it, leaving the remaining mixture completely forgotten in her drawer.
"Hmm, well the color does fits me unexpectedly."
I muttered to myself, catching a brief reflection of my vibrant new look in the glass window of a closed shop.
Anyway, Cindy told me that I can just burn the temporary dye with my mana if I want to remove it, or it will disappear on its own after a few hours.
"Now, I need to get to the academy before this disappears."
And just like that—I’m back to my problem of finding a way to get into a station without being caught.
I paced back and forth in the alleyway, trying to figure out if I could sneak aboard a freight vehicle or find an unmonitored perimeter fence. Every standard option carried an uncomfortably high risk of detection.
"Nice hair!"
Just as I was trying to think of a plan, I heard a loud shout behind me.
The voice was rough, boisterous, and echoed sharply off the surrounding concrete walls. I didn’t know if it was complimenting me or just insulting me, but my head turned instinctively when I heard that.
I braced myself, my hand instantly hovering near my belt where I could quickly channel my ice mana if an attack was coming.
"Huh?"
But when I turned--I saw a group of four people; each of them are riding a motorcycle.
They had just pulled into the side street, the engines of their vehicles rumbling loudly in the enclosed space. They look like some local punks, wearing heavy jackets and dark jeans, but what caught my attention the most—were their hairs.
Every single one of them was sporting an impossibly loud hairstyle.
The four of them have mohawks—and they’re all pink-haired!
The identical bright pink dye on their tall, spiked mohawks practically glowed in the morning sunlight, creating a bizarrely uniform look among the group.
They look around to be just slightly older than me.
"Uhh, thank you."
I said to them awkwardly, I’m for sure they’re not insulting my hair.
My tension relaxed slightly as I realized they weren’t wearing the subtle, dangerous aura of trained assassins. They were just a bunch of rowdy guys riding together.
"You look distressed, man. Need help?"
Then, one of them asked me.
He leaned over his handlebars, resting his arms on the front of his bike as he looked at me with a friendly, curious grin.
"Umm, n-"
I was about to shrug his words away, my natural instinct telling me to avoid interacting with strangers while I was actively being hunted.
But then—I stopped the words coming out of my mouth.
A sudden realization struck me like a bolt of lightning. Something came into my mind.
I looked at the four of them sitting on their idling motorcycles, then at their bright pink mohawks, and finally at my own dyed hair.
Swallowing my pride—
"Actually, I do need help."
I said that. I stepped forward, making my voice sound as sincere and urgent as possible.
"Oh, what is it?"
The guy before asked me, and the other three looked at me like they were waiting.
They shut off two of their engines, giving me their full attention as I approached the curb.
I opened my mouth, and without further ado—
"I need to get to [The Star Academy], I’m a new student there. I can’t ride the train becase of a personal reason."
I declared that.
I didn’t offer a fake, overly complicated story that might sound suspicious. I kept it brief, honest about my destination, and clear about my restriction.
"It don’t need to be exactly in the academy, I just need to be somewhere close and I can walk the rest; I will pay you with all the money I have, please."
I quickly followed before they could even respond, slightly bowing my head.
"..."
I saw the four guys look at each other after hearing my request, then they looked at me—
They exchanged silent glances, a sudden pause falling over the group that made my stomach drop into a pit of anxiety.
"We don’t need your money."
One of them said, a slight disappointed look on my face appeared as I heard that.
I lowered my hand back to my side, my heart sinking instantly. I immediately knew they weren’t going to accept.
I began turning over backup plans in my head, wondering if I would have to sprint the remaining distance on foot through the back alleys.
Though, to my surprise—
"We’re going somewhere near the academy anyways to meet some of our buddies; we’ll give you a ride for free!"
The guy followed with that with an energetic voice.
He let out a loud laugh, slapping his own motorcycle tank with enthusiasm.
"...!"
My eyes widened and I looked up at them.
"Really?!"
I asked.
The guy I was talking to patted the seat of his motorcycle, then with a wide smile—
"Yeah, come along another pink-haired guy."
He replied with that.
He gestured toward the open passenger space behind him, motioning for me to climb aboard without any hesitation.
*****
I wasted no time and came with them, they even let me borrow an extra helmet they have.
Despite their look, these four are really kind.
They didn’t pry into my personal business, ask for my full name, or question why a new academy student was wandering around side streets trying to avoid public transit. They simply accepted me as a fellow pink-haired traveler in need of a lift.
I’m really lucky to meet them.
If I had stayed on foot, I would have eventually been cornered near one of the major checkpoints. But sitting on the back of this bike, surrounded by four guys with identical, attention-grabbing pink mohawks, I had the ultimate camouflage.
Now, I can just be mistaken as one of them even if one of the assassins saw me.
Any scout watching the roads would see a loud, noisy group of local motorcycling youths riding together, completely ignoring the single passenger tucked behind the lead rider. The chances of me being caught just decreased by a lot.
"Hold on tight, dude! We’re going even faster!"
The guy I’m riding with said as he accelerated the motorcycle even more.
The engine roared to life with a deafening growl, and the bike shot forward down the open road, weaving through the light morning traffic with incredible agility. The wind whipped violently past my jacket, the scenery blurring into a streak of colors on either side of us. We’re going so fast, but I’m not feeling scared.
The raw speed was exhilarating, washing away the suffocating anxiety that had been building up in my chest all morning.
This is better in my opinion.
’At this rate—I wouldn’t be late for the opening ceremony.’
I thought to myself.
... ... ...
... ... ...
... ... ...
"Good luck on your first day!"
The guy I was riding with said as I got down his motorcycle.
He killed the engine near the curb of a quiet residential avenue, letting the bike settle onto its kickstand as I handed back his spare helmet. They brought me just two streets away from the academy.
We have to part now because their destination is much further.
The four of them were heading toward a commercial district on the opposite side of the neighborhood to meet up with their friends.
"Thank you very much!"
I replied enthusiastically to the four of them, bowing my head as a sign of gratitude.
My voice was filled with sincere relief. These four strangers had completely saved me from a very difficult situation, asking for absolutely nothing in return.
They all told me last goodlucks, and after waving goodbyes—they rode their motorcycles again and left.
The loud roar of their engines gradually faded into the distance as they sped down the avenue, leaving me standing safely on the quiet sidewalk.
Meanwhile me—
"Just a little more."
I took out my phone and started heading to the academy.