A Background Character's Path to Power-Chapter 89: The Observer in the Shadows

A month later.

The streets of the town bustled with life—merchants hawking wares, students rushing with armfuls of books, and the distant chime of the academy’s bells marking the hour. Among them walked a red-haired, handsome young man, his posture regal, his eyes alight with quiet fascination.

So this is a human city...

Nolan—for that was the name he had chosen for this guise—let his gaze drift over the crowded plaza, taking in the clamor, the scents of baked bread and meat, the way humans moved with such hurried purpose.

They really are different...

His attention was caught by a long queue stretching from the entrance of a particular building. People shifted impatiently, clutching papers and muttering amongst themselves. Above them, a sign swayed gently in the breeze:

[Knowledge Emporium.]

What is this place?

Intrigued, he approached.

A few in line shot him irritated glances as he passed, one even opening their mouth to snap at him, to tell him to wait in line—until Nolan met their gaze with a faint, disarming smile.

Their annoyance melted into dazed confusion, their words forgotten before they could even form. By the time he had slipped past, they blinked, looking around as if waking from a dream.

"Did someone pass just now?"

Inside, the shop was even more crowded, the air thick with the scent of parchment, ink, and something sweet. Some of the young humans huddled over books, others chattered excitedly near the counter, waving their papers and strange numbered cards.

"Why are there so many people?" He mused, scanning the room.

A chuckle sounded beside him. "You asked the right person."

Nolan turned around.

A bespectacled student stood there, adjusting his glasses with a practiced flick of his fingers. The lenses caught the light, flashing dramatically as he grinned.

"Ah, you see," the student began, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "this isn’t just some haphazard gathering. It’s the shop’s ’Study and Win Prizes’ or more precisely ’Mid-Term Exam Rewards Event’, it is a meticulously structured incentive system."

Finger flick. Glasses gleam.

Nolan’s lips twitched in amusement. The human was... enthusiastic.

"First," the enthusiastic human continued, "participants must meet one of two criteria: either study here for at least fifteen hours over the past three weeks—" Another glasses adjustment. "—or make five purchases while showing improved exam scores."

"And the rewards?" Nolan inquired, feigning mild curiosity.

The student’s eyes sparkled behind his lenses. "Oh-ho! They are amazing, of course. A ten-percent score increase gets you a free drink and pastry. Fifteen percent adds a book voucher. Twenty or higher?" He paused dramatically. "A premium study kit—high-quality inks, quills, and a reservation for the private booths upstairs."

Nolan arched a brow. " So generous?"

"Yes, but that’s not all!" The student leaned in conspiratorially. "There’s also daily mini-games—solve a riddle, win a biscuit. Answer trivia, get a discount. Although they are time-limited and only happen five times daily. But the crown jewel?" He lowered his voice. "It’s the Loyalty Ledger."

"Loyalty Ledger?"

"Exactly!" The student beamed. "Every purchase or study session logs points. Rack up enough, and you unlock rewards—free hours in premium booths, dessert platters, even discounts on reading rare books." He sighed wistfully. "Whoever came up with this is a genius."

Nolan smirked. "You sound like you really like them."

The student adjusted his glasses so aggressively that they nearly flew off his face. "I— That’s— It’s purely academic admiration!"

Nearby, a twin employee called out, "Next in line for reward verification!"

"Oh! Sorry, it’s my turn—gotta go!"

As the flustered student hurried away, Nolan chuckled, eyeing the shop’s bustling interior with newfound appreciation.

Clever, he thought. Very clever.

"I like this place."

With a last glance around, he decided—this would indeed be his first target.

The thought solidified in Nolan’s mind as he scanned the shop again. Humans were predictable creatures, but this place—this system—was something else. A carefully constructed web of incentives, loyalty, and subtle control.

Perfect.

A glint passed through his crimson eyes. With practiced ease, he slipped through the crowd toward the twins at the reward counter, his aura already weaving a subtle haze around him. The humans nearby blinked as if waking from a daydream, their protests dying before they could form.

Just as he was about to reach the front—

Thud.

Someone bumped into him hard from behind. Nolan stumbled forward, the crowd too dense to regain balance.

A blue-haired girl turned in his direction at the exact time, her eyes widening as he lurched toward her. Her hands flew up instinctively to shield herself—

"Ahh-!"

Damn it.

There was no space to dodge. No time to stop.

Just as Nolan braced for impact—

—A hand seized his collar from behind.

The grip was iron-steady, yanking him backward with unnatural precision. Nolan’s boots scraped the floor as his body was abruptly stopped, his face mere inches from the girl. Then the hand pulled his body to itself, balancing his body.

"Be careful."

The voice was calm, almost exasperated, and gone before Nolan could turn. The girl gasped, staring past him at the retreating figure—a black-haired young man melting into the crowd, her face flushing.

"P-Pervert!" she then hissed at Nolan before scurrying away.

Nolan stood frozen.

What... just happened?

He stared at the blue-haired girl’s retreating figure, his crimson eyes glinting with icy amusement.

Was I just called a pervert? Me?

The absurdity of it prickled at him—a prince, reduced to a common nuisance in some human shop. His fingers twitched at his side, the urge to correct her misunderstanding with a flick of his fingers.

But then—

A strange discomfort curled in his chest. Faint, fleeting. Like a single drop of ink in clear water.

Whatever. I’ll let you get away with this... once.

He shook his head, dismissing the encounter as an unfortunate hiccup, and turned back toward the reward counter. The twins stood behind it, one already extending a hand toward him as he approached.

Nolan tilted his head, feigning polite confusion.

The twin—Mira, according to her nametag—arched a brow. "Do you have an exam paper or a loyalty card?"

Nolan’s smile was all practiced charm. "Ah, no. I’ve come for something else." He leaned in slightly, his voice lowering. "I’d like to meet your Manager."

Mira’s lips pursed. She exchanged a glance with her sister, Lira, who was busy stamping another student’s loyalty card. "Oh, you’re one of those," Mira muttered under her breath. She straightened, professionalism plastered over her reluctance. "Sorry, but the Manager isn’t—"

Nolan’s crimson eyes gleamed as his aura coiled outward, subtle as a sigh.

Suddenly, Mira’s words faltered.

"Please, come tomorr-"

Her pupils dilated, her posture slackening ever so slightly. Behind her, Lira’s hand stilled mid-stamp, her gaze drifting vacantly toward the shelves. The chatter of the surrounding students blurred into a meaningless hum.

Easy.

Nolan’s smile sharpened. "Can I meet your Manager now?"

Mira nodded, her voice dreamy. "The manager is on the third floor, but it is restricted..."

"Thank you." Nolan’s smile widened. He stepped back, releasing his hold on her mind with a flick of his will.

Around him, the shop’s clamor resumed as if nothing had happened. The twin shook her head, blinking rapidly, then turned to her sister. "Did... did just something happen?"

Her sister frowned. "Huh? I think no, anyway, work faster, we still have long line of customers."

"Urgh, when are we getting a new employee."

"Beats me."

Just like that, the shop’s noise rushed back in a wave.

Meanwhile, Nolan was already weaving through the crowd toward the stairs, his steps light.

Humans. So delightfully fragile.

The students around him resumed their conversations, none the wiser.

None except one.

Unseen in the chaos, slate-gray eyes tracked Nolan’s every move without him noticing.

It was the black-haired young man from earlier, he leaned against a bookshelf, arms crossed. His grip tightened around a steaming teacup—the liquid inside bubbling faintly despite having gone cold minutes ago.

"A moon elf prince, huh?" he muttered. The words dissolved into the shop’s chatter, unheard. "Tsk, troublesome."

Gulping down the drink, he put it on the table and followed after Nolan.

I hope we won’t become enemies.