The day I was discharged, Mrs. Park called me into her office.
It was a small room, cluttered with medical books and old photographs. A portrait of a man in a hunter's uniform hung on the wall—her husband, she'd told me once. Killed in an A-rank gate thirty years ago.
"Sit," she said, gesturing to a chair.
I sat.
She stood by the window, her back to me, looking out at the street.
"You've been here for four months," she said. "Four months of training. Bleeding. Crying. Pushing yourself past every limit I've ever seen."
"Yes, ma'am."
"I've watched you change. Not just your body—your soul. You're not the boy who stumbled into my clinic with cracked ribs and a death wish." She turned to face me. "You're a man now. A dangerous one."
I didn't know what to say.
She walked to her desk and opened a drawer. From it, she pulled out a small box—wooden, carved with symbols I didn't recognize.
"This belonged to my husband," she said. "He was a warrior. A good one. He carried this into every gate he ever entered."
She set the box on the desk and opened it.
Inside was a ring. Silver, with a small black stone set in the center. The stone seemed to absorb light, drawing it in, holding it.
"It's a storage ring," she said. "Rare. Expensive. He found it in an A-rank gate, years ago." She picked it up and held it out to me. "I want you to have it."
I stared at the ring.
"Mrs. Park, I can't—"
"You can. And you will." She pressed it into my hand. "It's not a gift. It's a tool. You're going to need it."
The ring was warm. The black stone pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat.
"What does it do?"
"It stores things. Weapons. Supplies. Anything you can fit through the opening." She demonstrated, touching the stone. A small portal opened in the air—barely larger than her fist. "It's not big. But it's enough for essentials."
I slipped the ring onto my finger. It fit perfectly.
"Thank you," I said. "I don't know how to—"
"You don't need to thank me." She sat down behind her desk. "Just survive. That's all I ask. Whatever you're planning, whoever you're hunting... just survive."
I looked at the ring. At the black stone that seemed to hold shadows inside it.
"I'll try."
Mrs. Park nodded.
"That's all any of us can do."
The morning I left the clinic, the sky was grey and heavy with rain.
Mrs. Park stood at the door, arms crossed, watching me pack the last of my things into a small duffel bag. There wasn't much—a change of clothes, the water bottle Kael had given me, a few protein bars, and the wooden photo frame from my old apartment. The one with the orphanage children.
"You're sure about this?" she asked.
"I'm sure."
"You have somewhere to stay?"
"I'll find something."
She nodded slowly. Then she walked to me and pressed a small pouch into my hands. It clinked.
"Money," she said. "Not much. Enough for a few weeks."
"Mrs. Park, I can't—"
"You can. You will. And you'll pay me back when you're rich and famous." She smiled, but her eyes were sad. "Take care of yourself, boy. And take care of him." She glanced at Kael. "He's strange, but he seems to care about you."
Kael bowed slightly. "Thank you for everything, Mrs. Park."
"Don't thank me. Just keep him alive." She stepped back. "Now go. Before I change my mind and lock you in the supply closet."
I hugged her.
She stiffened for a moment, then relaxed and patted my back.
"You're a good boy, Arlen Vale," she said quietly. "Don't let the world change that."
"I won't."
I let go, picked up my bag, and walked out the door.
---
The rain was cold against my face.
Kael fell into step beside me, his black coat pulled tight against the wind. He'd suppressed his aura—I could feel it, the way he'd drawn his power inward, shrinking his presence until he felt almost... normal.
"A-rank," he'd said that morning. "I'll keep my power at A-rank. Strong enough to be useful, not strong enough to attract attention."
"You can do that?"
"I can do a lot of things." He'd grinned. "Now let's go. We've got work to do."
---
The Hunter Guild headquarters was a different world.
I'd been here before—the day of my class assessment, the day I'd been declared classless. But that felt like a lifetime ago. The marble floors, the high ceilings, the massive digital boards displaying gate activity... it was all the same, but I wasn't.
Four months of training had changed me. I was taller now—six feet two, same as Kael. My shoulders were broader. My jaw was sharper. My eyes, once soft and uncertain, had hardened into something steadier.
Kael had joked that I'd grown ten times more handsome. I didn't know about that. But I knew I wasn't the same boy who'd stumbled into that B-rank gate.
We walked through the main lobby.
"Fancy," Kael said, looking around.
"It's the central hub for all hunters in the city."
"Smells like money and desperation."
"That's accurate."
We were heading toward the registration desk when the main doors burst open.
---
"Make way! S-rank party returning!"
Guards scrambled. Hunters pressed themselves against the walls. Even the receptionists stood at attention.
I turned.
Seven hunters walked through the doors. Their armor was scuffed, smoking faintly—the residue of a hard fight. But they moved with the easy confidence of people who had just won.
The leader was a man in his forties, broad-shouldered, with a neatly trimmed beard and a massive greatsword strapped to his back. His eyes were calm, assessing. He walked like a general.
Beside him walked a woman.
She was tall—same height as me, which was rare. Her silver-white hair was pulled into a high ponytail that swayed with each step. Her armor was crimson and gold, elegant but practical. A longsword hung at her hip, its hilt carved like a phoenix in flight.
Her face was beautiful. Sharp cheekbones, full lips, deep blue eyes that held the calm of someone who had seen too much to be surprised anymore. Her skin was unmarked—no scars, no blemishes. Perfect, but not in a fake way. In a real way.
She walked beside the leader like an equal.
The Celestial Five, I thought. Except there were seven of them.
I'd heard of them. Everyone had. The government's elite S-rank party. Paid by the state to clear the most dangerous gates.
Behind them walked the others:
A mage with dual-colored robes—red on one side, blue on the other. Fire and ice. A rare combination.
A Beast Transformer—male, tall and lean, with sharp features and amber eyes. He looked completely human. No fur, no claws, no animal features. But I'd heard stories about him. When he transformed, he became something out of nightmares. In the guild hall, though, he just looked like a handsome young man with unusual eyes.
An assassin who seemed to flicker in and out of existence, barely visible even in the open. His footsteps made no sound on the marble floor.
A tanker whose shield was taller than most men, covered in claw marks and scorch marks. His arms were thick as tree trunks.
And a healer—female, with kind eyes and a gentle smile. She carried a grimoire instead of a staff. The book was thick, bound in dark leather, with silver clasps. I'd heard that grimoire-users were more powerful than staff-users. More versatile. More dangerous.
And floating on a pedestal of light between them was an object.
A crystal. Deep purple, the size of a human head, pulsing with energy that made my skin prickle. Even from across the room, I could feel its power.
S-rank item, I realized. They brought back an S-rank item.
The lobby buzzed with whispers.
"Is that what I think it is?"
"A Void Core. They're worth billions."
"The Celestial Seven cleared an S-rank gate? Alone?"
"No casualties. Not even injuries."
The vice-leader—the silver-haired woman—stopped at the registration desk. The receptionist stammered something about protocols and paperwork. She waved a hand.
"Just process it. We have other gates to clear."
Her voice was calm. Commanding. Like she was ordering coffee, not handing over a treasure worth more than most people's lifetimes.
I watched her until she disappeared into a restricted corridor.
Kael nudged my arm.
"You're staring."
"I know."
"She's pretty."
"She's S-rank."
"Those aren't mutually exclusive." He raised an eyebrow. "You know her?"
"No. But I've seen her on broadcasts. She's... famous."
"Famous and pretty. Dangerous combination." He tugged my sleeve. "Come on. We have our own business."
I followed him to the registration desk.
---
The registration desk was the same one I'd approached four months ago, when I'd come for my class assessment. The same tired-looking woman sat behind it, her hair in a loose bun, dark circles under her eyes.
She didn't look up when I approached.
"Name and purpose," she said flatly.
"Arlen Vale. I'm here to register a new hunter."
Her fingers paused on the keyboard. Slowly, she raised her head.
Her eyes scanned my face. My shoulders. My height. Something flickered across her expression—recognition, then confusion, then disbelief.
"Arlen Vale?" she said. "The classless supporter who was reported dead?"
"That's me."
Her mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.
"You... you look different."
"I've been training."
"Training doesn't do that." She stared at me for a long moment. Then she shook her head and looked down at her screen. "The records say you died in a B-rank gate four months ago. Your file was closed."
"I got better."
She looked up again, her eyes narrowing. "You can't just 'get better' from a closed death file. There's paperwork. Investigations. The Association doesn't—"
"I'm standing here, aren't I?"
She was silent for a moment.
Then she sighed—the same tired, world-weary sigh I remembered from four months ago.
"Fine. Not my problem." She tapped her keyboard. "I'll reopen your file as 'status pending investigation.' Someone will contact you later. For now, what do you need?"
"I need to register a new hunter."
She glanced at Kael, who had been standing quietly beside me. Her eyes widened slightly—he had that effect on people—but she didn't comment.
"Name?"
"Kael."
"Last name?"
"Just Kael."
She typed. "Class?"
"Warrior."
"Age?"
Kael smiled. "Old enough."
The clerk's eye twitched. "I need a number for the records."
"Put twenty-nine."
She typed. "Affiliation?"
"None."
"Party?"
"He's with me," I said.
The clerk looked at me. At my E-rank status on her screen. At Kael's unregistered status.
"You're E-rank," she said.
"I know."
"And he's unassessed. For all I know, he's E-rank too."
"Then assess him."
She stared at me for a moment. Then she stood up.
"Assessment room is down the hall. Third door on the left. I'll process the results when you're done."
---
The assessment room was smaller than the one I'd used for my class evaluation. Just a circular platform and a crystal that glowed with pale light.
Kael stepped onto the platform.
"Remain still," a voice said over the speaker—the same bored male examiner from my assessment. I wondered if he ever left this room.
The crystal spun. Colors bloomed—red, gold, silver. The red was deep, almost black. The gold was bright, blinding. The silver shimmered like moonlight on water.
The crystal stopped.
A moment of silence.
Then the speaker crackled.
"Rank: A. Class: Warrior. Affinity: Fire and Shadow."
The clerk's voice came through a different speaker, stunned. "A-rank? We haven't had an unaffiliated A-rank in years."
Kael stepped off the platform and walked back to me. He looked completely calm.
"Is that acceptable?" he asked.
The clerk appeared in the doorway, her tablet clutched to her chest. Her eyes were wide.
"Acceptable? An A-rank hunter is always acceptable. The Association will want to—"
"He's with me," I said again. "Not the Association."
She looked at me. At Kael. Back at me.
"E-rank hunters can't form parties with A-rank hunters. The gap is too large. The regulations—"
"Then register him as my companion," I said. "Not a party member. Just... a hunter who happens to accompany me."
She frowned. "That's not standard."
"Is it illegal?"
A pause.
"No."
"Then do it."
She sighed—the same tired sigh. "Fine. But you're restricted to dungeons no higher than C-rank. An A-rank hunter in a higher dungeon would attract too much attention. And you, as an E-rank, have no business in anything above D-rank anyway."
"That's fine."
She typed on her tablet. "Kael is registered. His temporary ID will be ready in an hour. You can wait in the lobby."
She paused, looking at me one more time.
"You really have changed," she said quietly. "Four months ago, you were a scared boy with no class. Now..." She shook her head. "I don't know what you are now."
"Neither do I," I said.
She walked away.
We sat on a bench near the entrance.
The lobby was quieter now. The Celestial Seven had gone, taking their S-rank crystal with them. A few lower-ranked hunters milled about, checking job boards, drinking coffee, pretending they weren't staring at Kael.
Kael stretched his legs out in front of him and leaned back.
"So," he said. "We're registered. I'm A-rank. You're E-rank. We're companions, not party members."
"That's what the form says."
"And we're restricted to C-rank dungeons."
"Because of me. The Association doesn't want E-ranks dying in higher gates."
Kael turned his head to look at me. His golden eyes were curious.
"So what now?"
I leaned back against the bench. The wood was cold through my jacket.
"Well," I said, "first, we need money. I'm broke. Mrs. Park's money will last a week, maybe two."
"Agreed."
"Second, I need to learn how to fight. I've built my body, but I don't know how to use it. Not really."
Kael nodded. "Fair point. Training your body is one thing. Training your combat instincts is another."
"Third, I need equipment. Weapons. Gear." I looked at my empty hands. "I can't punch monsters to death."
Kael snorted. "You could try. It wouldn't go well."
"So we need to clear some dungeons. Get loot. Sell what we don't need. Buy what we do."
"And the revenge?"
I was quiet for a moment.
"The revenge can wait. I'm not ready yet. Not really."
Kael smiled.
"Good answer," he said. "Patience is a weapon too. Sharper than any sword."
"I learned that from you."
"Did you?"
"You said revenge is about strategy. Patience. Knowing when to strike." I shrugged. "I was listening."
Kael laughed. It was a warm sound, genuine.
"Look at you. Actually paying attention." He stood up. "So. C-rank dungeons. You want to clear some?"
"Yeah."
"Even though you don't know how to fight?"
"I'll learn."
"By doing?"
"By doing."
Kael shook his head, but he was still smiling. "You're going to get yourself killed."
"That's why I have you."
"To save you?"
"To teach me." I stood up. "You said you've been bored for centuries. Now's your chance to do something useful."
"Useful? I'm insulted."
"You'll get over it."
He snorted. "Fine. Let's go see what C-rank gates are available."
---
We walked toward the job board.
"Hey, Kael?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks. For staying."
He was quiet for a moment.
"Where else would I go?" he said. "You're my summoner. I'm not leaving."
"I know. But still. Thanks."
He bumped my shoulder with his.
"Don't get soft on me, Arlen. We've got dungeons to clear."
I almost smiled.
Almost