When I opened my eyes again, I found myself standing next to little Jevan, who was… violently beating a group of children?

"What the hell is going on?"

Little Jevan didn't look the same as the last time I'd seen him. Back then he'd looked about six; now he seemed closer to ten and even his features had hardened.

He rained blows on the children until blood ran from their faces. Then he stopped, picked up their money, turned his back and walked away. I watched his back for a moment before following.

He walked into the abandoned eighth district and stopped at the house that was still exactly as before. A gloomy, dilapidated house that felt like it could collapse at any moment.

Jevan went inside. Before I could follow, something else caught my eye: another boy trailing him from afar. He looked about two years older, his eyes locked on Jevan.

Was he here for revenge? After what I'd just seen, it made perfect sense. Maybe little Jevan had made plenty of enemies.

Usually I was the kind of person who let others suffer the consequences of their actions. This kid should learn to stop causing trouble the hard way. But this time, unfortunately, I couldn't. Because Jevan's body is my current body; who knows what might happen to him.

I stepped into the house and found little Jevan staring at me with wide eyes. Before I could even speak he ran toward me, trying to hug me, but passed right through and slammed hard into the wall behind me.

I walked over and knelt beside him.

"Are you okay?"

But instead of answering he burst into tears.

What is this? Moments ago you were beating those kids without mercy and now you're crying just because you hit a wall?

I tried to calm him with a small smile.

"Stop crying."

But instead of quieting down his sobs grew louder.

Unbelievable. Is my face really that scary?

He hiccupped,

"You won't leave me and go away again, right?"

Oh, so that's what made him break down? I couldn't find anything comforting to say. Even I didn't know the answer. So I changed the subject quickly.

"Looks like you've made a lot of enemies. Someone was following you."

He wiped his tears with his hand and looked at me seriously.

"Who?"

"I don't know. Looked like a boy about twelve."

"How much is that?"

"Listen, he's just a little older than you."

"Describe him."

"I couldn't see him clearly."

"Could be Marklius the Slimy or Edmund the Hard or maybe…"

I cut him off, rubbing my temple.

"How many enemies have you made exactly?"

"Not many."

"That's not many?!"

"It's your fault. You're the one who left me alone."

"Look, no time for this now…"

Before I could finish we heard something crash outside. I phased through the wall to see what caused the noise. Outside I saw the boy who had been following Jevan. This time his face was clear. His hair was short and a bright orange, and his eyes were the same color.

Jevan came out of the house behind me carrying a long wooden staff. He raised it, pointing its tip at the boy.

Little Jevan stood facing the orange haired boy, his wooden stick aimed straight at his face.

"Why were you following me?"

The boy raised his hands in the air.

"I came in peace, I swear."

But the stick didn't move an inch from his face.

"You haven't answered me. Why were you following me?"

The boy got up from the ground and brushed the dust off his torn clothes.

"I came to offer you a deal you can't refuse."

"I refuse."

"What? But you haven't even heard the offer yet!"

"I said I refuse. Leave."

The boy shook his head stubbornly.

"I won't leave until you hear what I have to say."

Little Jevan simply turned and went back inside the house. I followed him to find him shutting the door tightly behind him. What shocked me wasn't that he shut the door, but that the rotting door even opened and closed at all.

I stretched out on the floor, watching him as he set his stick in the corner of the room.

I asked him with obvious sarcasm:

"Why didn't you at least hear his offer?"

He sat on the bed.

"I've had too many worthless offers."

"Worthless? Like what?"

"Offers to join various gangs."

"I thought you were talking about the big gangs like the Guardians, the Bloody Fang, or the Claw."

"There are gangs with names that ridiculous?! I'm talking about kids' gangs. Just brats following bigger brats."

"And why do you refuse? Isn't it a good chance to improve your odds of survival?"

"I don't know what time you lived in, but nowadays these gangs give you nothing but scraps. They might even sell you off to a bigger gang. Sure, the big gangs only care about people with special abilities. But believe me, if you fall into their hands you'll become a lab rat or a chained up slave."

"And how do you know all this when you don't even know the gangs' names?"

"You don't need the names to hear about the deeds. Survivors from the experiments are dumped like trash."

I pointed to the window.

Through it the orange haired boy was clearly visible, still knocking on the door.

"Looks like he doesn't plan to give up."

Little Jevan sighed as he stared at the door in annoyance.

"They're all too stubborn."

"Has anyone else tried to follow you here?"

"No, this orange one is the only one. No one else dares enter this district."

Great. I'd become a time traveler without understanding how it even worked. Was I going to be pulled here every time I fell asleep? That would be really annoying. All I wanted was sleep. Not to recharge my energy but to stop my mind from grinding for a little while. But it seemed rest wasn't made for me.

That boy was still knocking at the door persistently. I turned to little Jevan and found him glaring at the door.

"Are you not going to open it?"

"No. He'll give up eventually."

"I don't think so."

"And how would you know?"

"Simply because he's desperate to recruit you."

…

The next morning, I hadn't closed my eyes for even a moment. I was still awake from the night before. Apparently sleeping in ghost form was impossible. But what if I slept here? Would I go back to the present or end up in yet another time period?

Little Jevan woke up and stretched lazily, then went to the corner of the room and lifted one of the floorboards. He pulled out a bag of coins, took a few bronze pieces and carefully put it back.

After that he went to the door and opened it, only to bump right into the orange haired boy who had been sleeping pressed up against it.

Little Jevan pushed him off the threshold with his foot and he fell to the ground. The boy opened his eyes and, as soon as he saw Jevan, he jumped up and ran over excitedly.

"I knew you'd open the door eventually!"

But little Jevan cut him off.

"What are you doing sleeping in front of my door?"

The boy scratched his head awkwardly.

"Oh, sorry. I was waiting for you and I guess I fell asleep."

"Don't you have anything else to do with your life?"

"No, I'm on vacation."

"Vacation? You should be using it for something useful."

"I am using it now!"

Jevan didn't respond, ignored him and kept walking while the boy trotted after him like a puppy.

"Listen, if you accept my offer you'll be able to live in a place better than this dump."

Little Jevan didn't turn toward him but the boy continued:

"You'll get three meals a day and your own private bath. Trust me, you need a bath, you smell awful. Add to that real protection you won't have to worry about your food being stolen."

I sighed, watching the scene from afar. This chatterbox boy was starting to convince me personally. As for little Jevan, his face was stone, showing no interest in the offer.

It was obvious he was starting to have trust issues. The scars covering his arms and back were proof that he'd suffered a lot since I'd left.

But if his body was full of scars, why did my current body look like a nobleman's body that had never touched a sword? Had the Authority of Miracles healed those scars too? Did he not even have it at this stage yet?

I sank into those thoughts, but another scene caught my attention. We had left the Eighth District, and as soon as we passed its edge a group of huge men surrounded us. They were holding rusty weapons. It was obvious they hadn't come to welcome us. Technically, they had not me. I was just a ghost.

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