Zephyr stepped out of the booth, the afternoon sun casting a warm glow across the open-air mall.
After Mr. Fisher had abruptly left, the entire class had dispersed just as quickly—groups forming naturally, conversations picking up mid-stride. Zephyr, however, was the lone figure drifting through the crowd like a shadow out of sync.
With nothing better to do, he wandered back toward the booth. Last night's movie still lingered in his thoughts. The world were advanced enough to screen play, make a flying carriage and an AI assistant, but he had come to a conclusion. This world had advanced far, only to halt at the threshold of convenience and style, just like Naruto, who had train and computers but refused to move forward.
His next class was meditation, and unsurprisingly, he was looking forward to it. That brief session earlier the other day had yielded shocking results—his thoughts sharper, body lighter. It was like unclogging a drain and feeling the current rush through.
