He slowly moved through the different sections of the shop. Most of the clothing seemed practical yet elegant—the kind of fashion one would expect in a magical world like this.

  From what he saw in documentaries and movies, it reminded him very much of medieval times on earth.

  He kept strolling and suddenly noticed that he didn't have any money with him. In fact, he had no idea what currency was used. He realized how foolish he had been.

  At that moment, Albrecht began to understand the gravity of his situation. Stranded in another world, knowing almost nobody and having no way home. He didn't even know if he had died on Earth—and what would happen to his little sister, Nora.

  Their parents were dead, and their Uncle didn't care about them. He was the only person his sister could rely on.

  'Dammit!' he thought, angry with himself.

  The whole idea of a magical world made him excited without properly thinking about the consequences. He clenched his fists and thought about what to do next.

  Ideally, he would learn magic immediately, but he didn't know anyone who could teach him. That meant he would have to stick with Thereon, someone who could at least teach him Swordsmanship. After that, he just had to find an opportunity to learn magic.

  With that thought, an idea began forming in his head. The old man told him about Vance using powerful magic to kill dragons. If something like that was possible, then surely magic capable of bringing him home existed.

  The resolve settled in his chest like a steady flame. For now, he had to rely on the old swordsman. But beyond that, Albrecht promised himself he would do whatever it took to master this world and return to his little Sister.

  After coming to that conclusion, he kept glancing around the shop for a bit before turning back to Isla. She was still seated by the entrance, reading something that looked like a newspaper.

  "Excuse me," he began, his voice steady despite the swirl of emotions inside him.

  She glanced up, and her curious gaze met his. "Need help finding something?"

  "Actually… yes," Albrecht said, scratching the back of his neck.

  "I was wondering if you could help me with some clothes. Something practical for a swordsman."

  Isla tilted her head, intrigued by him.

  "Are you trained in the sword?"

  "Not yet," Albrecht admitted with a faint smile.

  "But I'm hoping to learn. And if I'm going to train, I'll need the right outfit. Something durable but flexible."

  She nodded thoughtfully, already standing and moving toward a rack of fabrics.

  "I can make you something. We'll need to take measurements first, but I can customize it however you'd like."

  Albrecht hesitated before adding, "About payment… I don't have anything on me right now. But I run the inn across the street and promise to pay you back as soon as possible."

  Isla paused, then smiled warmly. "Think nothing of it. You seem honest enough. Besides, a swordsman must be clad accordingly."

  Albrecht forced a small, grateful nod, but a dull weight settled in his chest.

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  Honest? If only she knew. The truth was, he wasn't planning on staying. As soon as Thereon left, he'd be gone too. There was no way he'd ever pay her back.

  The thought made his stomach twist. It wasn't like he wanted to take advantage of her kindness, but what choice did he have?

  He had nothing, not even the faintest clue of how this world worked. The moment he found a way home, he'd leave this world behind, along with everything and everyone in it.

  And yet, she had trusted him.

  She led him to the back of the shop, where fabric rolls were neatly stacked and tailoring tools lined the wooden workbench in meticulous order.

  As Isla worked, carefully taking his measurements and jotting down notes, he allowed himself a rare moment of stillness. It had only been one or two hours since he woke in this world, yet it felt like a lifetime had passed.

  The awe of witnessing swordsmanship, hearing about magic, the unease of being stranded in a place so unfamiliar, the nagging fear for his sister back home, each emotion had struck him like waves crashing in succession, leaving him adrift in uncertainty.

  "You should be all set," Isla finally said, stepping back with a satisfied nod.

  "You can pick it up in the evening. I'll make sure it's sturdy and comfortable." She hesitated momentarily before adding, "My mother can cast some protection spells on it."

  There was pride in her voice, especially when she mentioned her mother's magic. It was subtle, but Albrecht caught it.

  'So maybe magic isn't something everyone can use,' Albrecht thought. Thereon'That explains why most people still rely on weapons… maybe it's for the best that Thereonis teaching me swordsmanship.'

  With a final polite nod, he stepped out of the shop and into the streets of Vaelmont, leaving behind the warmth of the tailor's shop for the unknown stretch of the town before him.

  The sun had risen higher, casting crisp shadows along the cobblestone streets. The air carried a mix of baking bread, burning coal, and faint traces of damp stone, the unmistakable scent of a town slowly coming to life.

  Albrecht took a deep breath.

  'I should start exploring the town.'

  His mind immediately countered.

  'No—first, I need to clean up the mess. In case they search the Inn for that criminal. I'm sure three dead bodies wouldn't look that good.'

  He turned his gaze toward the wooden building across the street, its sign swaying gently in the breeze. The inn.

  The windows were mercifully high, shielding the gruesome scene inside from prying eyes. Otherwise, anyone walking past would have seen the bloodstained floor, the shattered furniture, and the lifeless bodies that Thereon had left behind.

  The thought unsettled him.

  Albrecht wasn't horrified, at least not in the way he knew he expected to be. Instead, a strange sense of detachment settled over him as though his mind had already begun normalizing the brutality of this world.

  'I should be disgusted.'

  But he wasn't. At least not in the way he expected.

  Instead, his mind was already strategizing. Disposal, concealment, fallback explanations. Everything about the cleanup felt less like horror and more like solving a grim equation.

  He grabbed a mop from a side closet and began scrubbing the floorboards.

  The rhythmic motion was comforting, almost mindless. He had done this before, not with blood, but with grease, dust, and spilled drinks back on Earth. Mopping floors had been his part-time job after school.

  Albrecht glanced at the bodies where they had fallen. Three corpses, yet he felt no sense of urgency. No racing heart, no nausea.

  Just the lingering problem of disposal.

  'On Earth, I'd be worrying about forensic luminol or blood spatter analysis.'

  But this wasn't Earth. No UV light, no chemical tests, and no police officers trained to read bloodstains like a book.

  But there was magic.

  'Shit. Is there a spell for detecting blood?'

  If there was, it meant cleaning wasn't enough. He had to get rid of everything—the bodies, the stains, even the scent of blood itself.

  His jaw tightened.

  He didn't know the laws here but knew how this would play out back home. Self-defense had limits. Killing someone over a shattered table and drunken threats would land you in prison.

  Yet Thereon had decapitated them without hesitation. No trial, no questions—just absolute force.

  'This world has rules. Maybe different ones, maybe twisted. But rules can be learned. And anything that can be learned... can be mastered.'

  Albrecht exhaled through his nose. It didn't matter.

  Even if he planned to leave with Thereon the next day, being hunted for murder wouldn't help him get back to Earth. It wouldn't help him in returning to his sister.

  And so, he got to work.