"Documents," a scarred guard grunted as they reached the front. He looked at Silvane’s sleek armor and Lyra’s shimmering robes with suspicion. "You lot look... expensive."
Kaito reached into his sleeve and produced three parchment scrolls. To the guard, they looked like weathered, official documents from the Capital, complete with wax seals and intricate calligraphy. In reality, Kaito had "printed" them five minutes ago, ensuring the ink was exactly three years old and the paper had the perfect amount of "authentic" grime.
The guard’s eyes widened. "Lord Wizard... apologies. Everything is in order. Move along."
The Living Town
As they stepped through the tunnel and into the city proper, the world exploded into color. Unlike Kaito’s mansion, which was silent and sterile, Oakhaven was a riot of "Kind Mystery."
- The Sounds: The clinking of a blacksmith’s hammer that was slightly off-beat; the shouting of fruit vendors; the laughter of children chasing a stray "Glow-Cat."
- The Sights: Vines of purple "Star-Ivy" climbed up crooked stone walls, blooming with flowers that pulsed with a soft light. The streets were paved with mismatched cobbles that had been smoothed by centuries of footsteps.
"It’s... messy," Kaito observed, his eyes scanning a crooked chimney that was definitely not up to code. "But the thermal output of those bakeries is surprisingly high. They’re using fire-salts in the dough."
"It’s wonderful!" Silvane exclaimed, her helmet tucked under her arm. She was staring at a street performer juggling balls of actual lightning. "Look, Kaito! They’re doing things without menus or HUDs! It’s all so... random!"
Lyra felt a strange sense of peace. "It has a soul, Kaito. You can’t manifest 'history' in an afternoon."
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The Guild of Many Errors
The Guild Hall
They eventually reached a massive timber building with a sign depicting a crossed sword and staff. The Adventurer’s Guild.
Inside, the air was thick with the smell of stale ale and old parchment. To Kaito, it was a logistical nightmare. The floorboards creaked in three different pitches, and the "Information Desk" was a slab of scarred oak manned by a young woman who looked like she hadn't slept since the previous era.
Kaito walked up to the counter, his cobalt robes sweeping across the floor. He didn't look at the quest board yet. He looked at the disorganized stack of papers behind the receptionist.
"Good afternoon," Kaito said, his voice calm and professional. "We’re here to enquire about registration and potential assignments."
The receptionist, a girl with messy spectacles and a guild-stamped vest, didn't look up from her ledger. She was busy scratching out lines of ink with a quill that was desperately in need of a trim.
"New arrivals?" she asked, her voice a flat monotone. "Registration fee is five silver per head. You’ll need to pass a basic aptitude test, provide a list of known spells or martial techniques, and sign the 'Death and Dismemberment' waiver."
Silvane leaned over the counter, her silver hair spilling over her new rogue leathers. "We don't need a waiver. I’m a Dragon—I mean, I’m a very sturdy warrior. And he’s a Wizard who knows everything."
The receptionist finally looked up, her eyes lingering on Lyra’s shimmering priestess robes and Kaito’s pristine, "impossible" blue fabric. She blinked, her professional fatigue momentarily replaced by a flicker of confusion. These people didn't look like the typical dirt-stained rookies. They looked like they had been delivered by a high-end carriage that didn't exist.
"Right," the girl said, clearing her throat and reaching under the counter. She pulled out a small, enchanted stone device and a stack of blank copper plates.
She set them on the wood with a heavy clunk.
"Before we discuss assignments or rank," she said, pointing to the plates, "I need to see your official identification. Please present your Adventurer Cards for verification."
Kaito stared at the blank copper plates. Behind him, Lyra went stiff, and Silvane looked at the ceiling as if she could suddenly see a very interesting bird.
They didn't have cards. They didn't even have a history in this world’s records.
Kaito’s mind began to race, his [Imaginative Construct] already calculating how to forge a magical database entry in real-time without the receptionist noticing the air was starting to hum.