About half an hour later, the woman finally came back, this time carrying a neatly folded bundle of clothes. She explained that an officer had asked his wife to send over some hand-me-downs that should fit Julian.
He had no complaints. Before ending up in this mess, he had an older brother, so secondhand clothes were nothing new to him. The outfit was simple enough: jeans, a T-shirt, underwear, socks, and a pair of shoes. Everything was a little loose on his smaller frame, but not so much that it was uncomfortable. It fit well enough, and that was more than good enough for him.
Despite the bandages and bruises marring his face and scalp, the woman smiled and told him he was a pretty cute kid, and that he would probably grow up to be a real heartbreaker.
Julian assumed she was just saying that to cheer him up. He gave a small nod, not really agreeing but not arguing either, and that seemed to satisfy her.
...
Eventually, a proper doctor arrived. He put Julian through a series of tests clearly designed to evaluate his memory and cognitive functions. After several rounds of questions, patterns, and checks, the doctor finally concluded that Julian genuinely had amnesia.
The cause, he said, was obvious. Multiple blunt-force impacts to the head, just as the injuries suggested. After examining the rest of Julian's injuries in detail, he added that it was likely the work of older children, probably around thirteen. None of Julian's bones were broken, which suggested that whoever had done it had not gone all-out with lethal intent, more like a brutal beating than an attempt to kill.
Julian had to spend the night at the police station while they tried to track down his parents or find some place for him to stay.
By the next day, after searching public records and coming up with nothing for "Julian Iron," they started the process to classify him as a ward of the state and place him in an orphanage.
The closest institution willing to take him was a place called Saint Mathews Home for the Lost. It turned out to be surprisingly decent. The building was in good condition, the staff seemed earnest, and the children there looked well-fed and healthy. They had the small lines at the corners of their mouths that came from frequent smiles and laughter, which said more about the orphanage than any brochure could.
The rules were not particularly harsh either. No fighting, no stealing, basic respect and cooperation. That was about it. For Julian, following them was easy. He was naturally well-behaved and, in this new life, even more withdrawn than usual. He spoke very little.
The caretakers simply assumed his quiet behavior was a side effect of his head trauma and did not push him to socialize with the other kids. They let him be, checking on him but not hovering.
...
It was only after a full week that Julian finally got enough privacy to risk using the system properly. He sat alone in his small room, the door shut and the curtains drawn, and decided that this was as good a moment as he was going to get to claim his starter pack.
He could feel excitement buzzing in his chest, but he still double-checked the makeshift lock he had set up on the door, just to be sure no one walked in on him. Satisfied that he would not be interrupted, he focused on the translucent panel only he could see.
Let us see if this was worth the wait, Julian thought, mentally selecting the Y option to accept the starter pack.
[YOU RECEIVED]
50 Galleons
1 small ingot of goblin silver
1 temporary access to the Spectral Forge
1 Crafting Style Roulette Ticket
1 Purifying Potion
On the floor in front of him, five objects shimmered into existence, appearing out of thin air.
A small pile of gold coins stacked together in a neat little heap.A short silver bar, about two inches long and half an inch on each side.A ticket that glowed with shifting rainbow colors and gave off a faint mist.Another ticket, this one red with a white roulette wheel drawn on its surface.And finally, a corked test tube filled with a green liquid.
...
That was... underwhelming, Julian thought, exhaling in mild disappointment. He shook his head at himself. He had built this moment up in his mind as something grand and dramatic. Trumpets, glowing light, maybe a booming voice. In reality, the items had just appeared quietly, without so much as a spark.
Alright, then. What exactly is all this stuff? he wondered, reaching down to pick up one of the golden coins. He turned it between his fingers, examining the design and weight with intense focus.
He could not quite explain it, but something about the coin felt different from regular money. There was a subtle sense of power or significance radiating from it. He could not pin down what it was until a small screen flickered to life next to it.
[Galleon: The highest denomination used by wizards or witches in this world, worth seventeen Sickles or four hundred and ninety-three Knuts.]
Well, that is convenient. Also a bit of a headache, Julian thought with a wry frown, already feeling his brain twist itself into knots as he tried to calculate the exact ratios between Knuts, Sickles, and Galleons.
What are these other things good for, then?
Another set of descriptions appeared one after another.
[Small goblin silver ingot: A jeweler's ingot of goblin silver. Goblin silver holds enchantments very well and is many times stronger than normal silver.]
[Access ticket: When torn, sends the host to the Spectral Forge that exists in the Wraith Realm and is fully stocked with any equipment a smith could ever want.]
[Roulette ticket: When torn, summons the related roulette wheel for a single random prize based on where it lands.]
[Purifying potion: A potion created for the sole purpose of removing impurities in one's magic circuits that build up over time from inactivity.]