Mystical Fantasy : The Lazy Real Young Master [EN]
Chapter 49 - 8.1 : Shadows Before the Storm

Chapter 49: Chapter 8.1 : Shadows Before the Storm

May had arrived. Across the nation, the atmosphere was growing tense. At the end of this month, the National Final Examination would be held simultaneously for all final-year students—whether in Elementary School, Middle School, or High School.

The Virellano residence was busier than usual that evening. Among the bustle, Clarista—the fourth daughter of the Virellano family—had just returned from abroad. Her purpose was clear: to become the private tutor for David, who was now in his final year at Makazhar Elite School, the second-best high school in Eastern Indorosia.

In the living room, the atmosphere was warm. Edward sat with a tablet in hand, occasionally glancing at a digital newspaper. Sandra, as always, maintained control over the household with her calm smile. Between them, David was absorbed in studying his worksheet modules.

Al? He had just arrived, summoned by his father through their butler, Harun. He sat not far away, isolating himself like a shadow among the light.

"You’re in your final year too, right? How’s your exam prep?" Edward asked.

"Everything’s fine, Dad."

"How are your grades, Al?" Sandra asked casually as she brewed tea, as if it were just small talk.

Al replied without turning. "Just average, Mom. Nothing special."

Everyone nodded. Nothing surprising. It was as if that answer was meant to be a part of Al’s life narrative—a norm that was accepted without argument.

But David, who was focused on studying the module Clarista had prepared, mumbled softly, "They said during the last mock exam, the top scorer at HIHS was someone named... Al. Could it be?"

For a moment, time seemed to freeze. All eyes shifted—to Al. Yet the young man continued staring blankly at the TV, which was playing one of Sandra’s favorite Korean dramas. His eyes darted aimlessly, avoiding anyone’s gaze.

"Hm... doesn’t seem likely," Edward muttered lazily before going back to his tablet.

David frowned, slightly irritated. He knew the truth. He knew who had actually scored highest at Hazandeen International High School. But sometimes the truth isn’t loud enough to be heard. Besides, it was just a mock exam. A small achievement not worth talking about—even if it did give David a pinch of anxiety.

What if Al actually made it into the national top three in the real exam?

"If it really was Brother Al who got the top score, then that’s amazing," David said, half-challenging.

"But what’s the point of a mock exam if your final score ends up being bad?" Clarista added flatly.

"True," Sandra said with a nod. Edward agreed. Even Al nodded—whether in agreement or indifference, no one could tell.

"You need to maintain that performance, Al, if you really can," Edward continued, a mix of encouragement and skepticism.

Soon, Sandra changed the subject. "Al, how about I arrange a tutor for you too? Clarista probably knows some good ones."

Unlike David, who had been directly assigned a tutor, Al was merely offered one—as if the decision was entirely his, even though expectations had barely ever been placed on him from the start.

"No need, Mom," Al said politely but firmly. "I can still study on my own."

Sandra gently tried to insist, but after Al politely declined a second time, she relented.

"Alright then..."

Al stood up, gave a slight respectful bow, then slowly left the living room. No one stopped him. No one really seemed to care—and maybe that’s what gave him freedom. And of course, Al liked it that way. His life was already heavy enough. He didn’t need the extra weight of pointless family drama.

Once in his small room, Al quietly dropped onto the bed. He stared at the ceiling for a while before reaching for his old phone on the table.

Hundreds of unread messages—special groups, random notifications, and a few personal ones. Some made him smirk faintly, amused at how people spoke to him like they actually knew him. But one message made his eyebrows twitch slightly.

"You have to be this year’s national top scorer, okay?"

Sent by someone who mattered to him.

Al stared at the screen blankly, then put it down.

"That poisonous witch is very persistent."

He replied to none of the messages. Instead, he whispered to himself, almost like a murmur.

"...Being at the top just doesn’t suit me."

It wasn’t rejection. More like quiet resignation. As if scores, praise, or targets were illusions that no longer reached his heart. Things unfit for someone like him who preferred laziness and finding the least troublesome path.

Out of boredom, he opened his favorite social media app. An app he usually ignored now caught his attention. Various viral news items filled the trending tab:

Ghost Sightings Across Makazhar!

He scrolled through post after post. Most were low-quality videos with exaggerated screaming. But one stood out—it was footage taken at Lorari Beach, one of Makazhar’s top tourist spots.

Unlike the others, this video was recorded with a decent camera. No edits. No music overlays. Just a quiet beach, the sound of ocean wind, and... a faint silhouette standing still in the middle of the receding sea. No sound. No movement.

Al watched intently, analyzing the video carefully. His gaze sharpened.

After replaying the video several times, he sent the link to someone via message.

Not long after, a reply came:

"The video’s real, Big Brother."

Al smiled, then stood up. He had made up his mind.

He was going to Lorari Beach. Alone.

He put on his uniform in one smooth motion.

Elemental Magic – Dark Type : Shadow Blend

His body merged with the shadows. And he vanished into the night.

---

Tonight was Monday. The sea breeze of Makazhar blew gently, brushing against empty buildings once lit up by tourists. But tonight... everything was different.

Al stood atop a large hotel, facing directly toward Lorari Beach—the main tourist beach that had since become deserted for nighttime visits after the viral sighting. Only the sound of crashing waves echoed in the distance, blending with the damp, cold sea breeze.

"Let’s observe first..." Al whispered inwardly, narrowing his eyes as he scanned the aura in his surroundings. He activated his spiritual vision:

Dimensional Eye: Activated

His sight shifted. All unseen aspects of reality became visible to him through this ability.

Two hours passed. The clock struck just after midnight. A new day had begun. Yet nothing changed. Just the ripple of the waves and a few weak spiritual signals flitting by like night mosquitoes. Harmless.

"Boring," Al muttered. He took a deep breath. "I can’t use this eye too long."

He deactivated his spiritual vision. But then—his magical instincts twitched. A subtle yet rhythmic energy pattern surged, shaking his spiritual awareness. A group of people had appeared at the beach’s edge. They wore black robes and carried ritual tools: incense, offerings, carving knives, black cloths, and glass bottles filled with cloudy red liquid.

Shamans, Al thought.

They’re going to perform a ritual? Exorcism? Or maybe... something worse.

He observed from above. One among them radiated an aura that felt... familiar. Something that tugged at his memory, but not clearly enough to recall.