林风走出小酒馆， night air ruffled his clothes slightly as if trying to dry him out after the drunken haze. He rubbed his temples, the lingering throb from last night's cheap wine reminding him of his foolishness. It was third time this month he had crawled into this dimly lit den of liquid oblivion, each visit a fresh stab of regret.

"Damn it," he muttered under his breath, pulling his threadbare coat tighter around his shoulders. Streetlights cast long shadows across the cracked pavement, making his footsteps echo eerily in the dead end of the alley. He checked his pockets again, the handful of copper coins clinking weakly against his palm. These meager earnings barely covered tonight's share of cheap ale and stale bread - if he was lucky enough to find work tomorrow.

A sudden commotion from the open market ahead made his heart skip. People huddled in small groups, murmuring excitedly, pointing at a striped banner unfurled atop a makeshift stage. A chalk-painted sign nearby read: "Super School Open Enrollment! Future Heroes Welcome!"