This F-Rank Bubble Mage Is Too OP!

"D*mn her," River cursed under his breath as he wove through the crowded street, shoulders brushing strangers on both sides.

His senses sharpened with every step. He quietly activated the Mana Gathering Technique—the revised version he'd painstakingly restructured. Instead of simply pulling mana into his core, this version rippled outward, acting like a sonar. Threads of perception spread into the air around him, brushing across the flow of people, flickering like invisible tendrils searching for abnormalities.

Nothing. No foreign presence pressing too close, no aura that screamed danger. At least, none he could detect.

Hunters were perceptive by nature, especially when given a face or description. But in a dense crowd like this, even sharp instincts could betray them. Too much noise, too many mana signatures, too many shifting bodies. A slip in focus and you could mistake a beggar's faint aura for the prey you were hunting. Unless, of course, the Hunter was truly skilled—or had terrifying control over their mana.

River didn't want to test which kind had been sent after him.

After slipping away from the hotel, he knew lingering anywhere predictable was dangerous. He needed somewhere that blurred his trail, somewhere even his own sharp instincts would falter. And what better hiding spot than right in plain sight?

His gaze swept over the crowd, trying to look like any other pedestrian swept up in the evening bustle. The city lights bathed the stone-paved streets of Voulton in warm hues, lanterns and neon signs clashing against the growing darkness of night. Yet, despite the hour, the energy here didn't diminish.

Maybe luck was finally on his side. He hadn't chosen this street intentionally, but the flow of bodies had led him here—a stream of men, women, even children moving eagerly in the same direction, their conversations bubbling with anticipation.

River narrowed his eyes. "There seems to be an event."

The people's faces told the story. Excitement, curiosity, and impatience laced their expressions. Some carried food in their hands as if they'd bought it in preparation, while others craned their necks, trying to see what lay ahead.

He racked his memory. Voulton City had its share of notable festivals and exhibitions, sure—but not here. Not in this district, where businesses catered more to Hunters and mercenaries than civilians.

Strange.

Still, it was an opportunity too convenient to ignore. If the Hunters tailing him tried to follow, they'd either have to push through the crowd and risk exposing themselves—or abandon pursuit altogether. Both outcomes worked in his favor.

River slowed his pace slightly, letting himself blend further. His steps matched the rhythm of the people around him, his gaze shifting just enough to mimic their curiosity.

"Might as well check this out," he muttered under his breath, lips barely moving. His instincts urged him to keep moving, to not linger in one place for too long. But recklessness wouldn't save him here—patience would. If the D-Rank Hunters were truly after him, they'd reveal themselves sooner or later. And once he pinpointed their positions, slipping away would become infinitely easier.

Besides… he had to admit, curiosity itched at the back of his mind. What was pulling so many people in the same direction at this hour?

River adjusted his breathing and fell deeper into the current of the crowd, his pulse steady, eyes sharp.

One step at a time.

Blend in.

Wait.

Observe.

And of course, River couldn't forget to resent that white-haired woman, Freya. Just the thought of her sly smirk tightened his jaw. She had been the one to stir the hornet's nest, leaking information and pulling strings like a puppeteer just for her amusement.

Thinking about her now, the idea of revenge glinted in his eyes.

"If I found her lacking…" River muttered under his breath, his tone flat but sharp, "Should I take the chance?"

It wasn't really a question. The idea had already hardened into something else—a resolution. Freya might have power and connections, but even giants had cracks in their armor. Once River discovered something—anything—that could be used to annoy her, frustrate her, or even push her off balance, he wouldn't hesitate. Revenge didn't need to come in one grand strike. Sometimes, a thousand small cuts hurt more than a single fatal blow.

He let out a slow exhale, shaking those thoughts from his head just as the ripple of mana signatures brushed against his perception.

D-Rank Hunters.

River stilled, eyes narrowing slightly. He could feel them slipping into the edges of the crowd, like wolves circling sheep. Not as many as before—half the number compared to when they had surrounded his hotel—but enough to make him cautious.

Still, this was good. Fewer enemies meant fewer variables to juggle. He counted the signatures carefully, memorizing their relative positions without turning his head. Four on the left edge of the crowd. Two near the back. At least one had managed to perch on higher ground—a rooftop overlooking the park.

"Persistent bunch," he muttered.

River moved with the current of people, careful not to stand out. A Hunter hunting in a crowd couldn't afford to be obvious. Neither could prey.

In no time, the flow of pedestrians spilled into an open clearing. River tilted his head slightly, eyes scanning the space. What was once a simple park—a green corner of Voulton City meant for recreation and relaxation—had been completely transformed.

A giant stage dominated the center, its sleek metallic scaffolding rising into the night sky. Dozens of light pillars had been set up, casting warm beams upward like searchlights. Speaker orbs floated in the air, quietly humming with restrained energy, waiting to unleash their sound. Above them, projection drones hovered like fireflies, their lenses catching and reflecting light.

River's lips parted slightly in recognition.

He suddenly remembered.

A fragment of memory he had buried deep surfaced without warning. Back in the original timeline, around this exact time, an artist had appeared in Voulton and caused a sensation. His shift back then had been from midnight to morning, washing dishes in that cramped restaurant kitchen. While the entire city buzzed with excitement about the surprise concert in the park, River had been elbow-deep in greasy water, scrubbing plates until his fingers pruned.

He hadn't gone, of course. Concerts weren't his kind of thing, and even if they were, he couldn't afford the time. Yet he had heard the chatter later—the way customers raved about it, the way co-workers wouldn't stop talking. The memory lingered like a fly buzzing in his ear, but it hadn't seemed important. Just another event in the timeline, a moment that didn't affect him.

No wonder he had forgotten.

He even forgot the name of the artist.

Shaking his head, River muttered, "So this is that night."

He adjusted his posture slightly, hands sliding into his pockets. The temptation to slip away grew stronger. The D-Rank Hunters were still here, sharp eyes cutting across the park. They weren't just standing around either—they were searching, scanning faces, waiting for the white-masked anomaly to reveal himself.

"Eyes alone aren't enough," River thought grimly. They had to have another trick. A sensory skill, maybe? Or they were rotating hunters with sharper perception? Either way, staying too long was dangerous.

He was about to take a cautious step backward when suddenly—

The floating speaker orbs hummed, then burst to life.

A lighthearted, cheerful beat erupted, washing across the park. Projection drones above flickered, then painted the night sky with vivid holograms, scattering neon blues and purples over the crowd. The air shifted, heavy anticipation releasing into euphoric excitement.

River froze mid-step.

"This music…" he whispered, brows furrowing. The rhythm wasn't just catchy—it was familiar. Too familiar.

Around him, the crowd erupted. People shouted, waved their hands, jumped on their toes to get a better view of the stage. Their cheers melded into a single roar that shook the air.

River ignored them. His chest tightened as his heart began to beat in sync with the music. It wasn't recognition of the melody—he didn't know the song. It was something deeper. An echo that resonated inside him.

This familiarity.

This feeling.

"Why?"

He frowned, unsettled. He wasn't one to get swept up in music, and yet… the cadence of the notes stirred something in him. A memory, a scar, something that refused to surface but gnawed at the edge of his awareness.

Before he could dig deeper, the stage exploded with fog. A thick white gas rolled outward, curling like waves, blanketing the platform until nothing could be seen.

And then, a voice.

"Hello, Voulton!"

It rang clear and strong, amplified by the speaker orbs. The crowd's cheer erupted to a deafening pitch.

"This is my first time here, but your excitement has already made me fall in love with this city! So without wasting more time, let's have some fun!"

The fog dissipated in a single sweep, unveiling the performer standing proudly in the center of the stage.

The moment River's eyes landed on her, his blood ran cold.

Silver light caught her figure as if the world had been waiting to spotlight her. Long hair, flowing like strands of spun bronze, shimmered under the stage lights. Her outfit sparkled with faint runes, an enchantment designed to catch every eye. She raised her hand in greeting, smiling like she owned the night.

River's eyes widened, disbelief surging through him.

"…Melody?" His voice was barely audible, swallowed by the noise of the crowd.

The name alone felt like a ghost clawing at his past.

"Melody. The Mute Mage?!"

Of all people, of all possible encounters, why her?

The cheers of the crowd blurred in his ears as River stood frozen, his mind flashing with fragments of memory from his first life—rumors of the girl who could not speak yet wielded magic with terrifying precision, whispers of a genius mage hidden behind a veil of mystery.

But here she was, in Voulton, smiling and singing like an idol.

And River couldn't help but think—

Fate had just thrown another curveball his way.