On Eliluam, despite its technological advances that go beyond human comprehension, it has one of those flaws that are below human understanding – specifically in the department of photography. Though widespread as a means to capture the gritty, dystopian atmosphere and individual moments, most existing colored pictures are slightly blurred and lack detailed clarity, especially for those on unconventional means of transportation.
In reality, the budget cut by the Moderator forced the higher-ups overseeing unconventional transportation to resort to black-and-white images—deemed cost-effective yet lacking in detail. Consequently, individuals had to rely on distinguishing characteristics such as clothing, height, eye color, age, physique, and aura for identification. Both Blake Griffin and Mr. Blind sported long, white-silver hair resembling noodles, wore identical dark cloaks, and had golden eyes. Despite Mr. Blind’s slightly dull appearance, it was obscured in the images. Their identical facial features practically made them twins. This made the mistake understandable.
‘I’m sorry, Mr. Blake,’ Izel thought briefly. He felt pity for the departed soul, unable to achieve his goals. However, that didn’t mean he should risk getting caught and meet the same fate. Mr. Blake Griffin’s status proved invaluable in escaping this predicament, leaving Izel with no choice but to use it.
“Unbelievable,” Anastasia’s voice shifted as soon as the name ‘The Freelance Organization’ was mentioned. “You were a new member of TFO, the secret organization. The sinister aura I sensed back then… it’s undeniable.”
Did she perceive Izel’s heterochromatic aura emanating from his shortsword during the confrontation with the Acolyte squad leader? Or perhaps she sensed the bloodlust of the Moderator, not him? Whichever the case, Izel considered that the reason for gaining her trust so easily might be one of these. Even the Head of Border Hunters, who had been harboring doubts while double-checking the holographic documents flashing in the air from the ‘Recording Kit’ for more details dismissed any decision to interrogate Izel with a tap of his fingers, nodding in acknowledgment. “Please forgive any rudeness due to the circumstances,” he added.
“It’s fine,” Izel sighed. Yet, he couldn’t help but admire the name ‘TFO’ even more. A shadow organization nestled within the shadows of the First District, it served as a refuge for skilled ‘Ex-hunters’ or those unaligned with guilds on Eliluam. It was the breeding ground for future elite mercenaries, embarking on covert missions and navigating obscure labyrinths.
Just like the inner workings of TFO were shrouded in secrecy, with even mentioning its name prohibited among the populace, and only those within exclusive circles, like Izel frequenting the hidden online black market group, knew of its existence. The name ‘Freelancer’ carried weight, and it was no surprise that others were taken aback upon learning of Izel’s membership—seemingly he must be an elite with exceptional skills.
“He’s a TFO member.”
“At such a young age, that’s impressive.”
“I never imagined I was on the same unconventional train with such a remarkable individual.”
“Me neither. Let me take a look.”
As whispers spread among the passengers and border hunters, they became curious and intrigued about the mysterious teen.
Whatever happened, Izel decided to act more shamelessly. From this moment, he will become Blake Griffin.
“I… “ The Head Border Hunter shook his head, “we will guide you to the exit.” The head border hunter said.
“Fine.” Izel blankly agreed.
“You are one of those who will be the future elite mercenaries, embarking on covert missions and navigating obscure labyrinths within the shadows, how could we let it go? You were wasting your time because of us.” He added.
“It’s fine.” Izel blankly said.
“It is because we are sorry.” The Head Border Hunter apologized as a surrendered wolf.
‘No, moving with you guys is inconvenient,’ Izel briefly thought, using mana to slightly calm down his inner turmoil and accumulated stress, while his stomach kept on growling silently. Of course, he couldn’t say those words, so he accepted with a blunt face.
“Ms. Anastasia, it was a short meeting, but it was nice,” Izel said.
It was a short meeting, but he didn’t think it was bad. She smiled brightly before slightly opening her mouth, as though the event went just as she intended.
“Yes, Mr. Blak–.” At this point, her cherry-red lips hesitated as though about to reveal something secret. “—Blind!” she whispered, loud enough for the blind teen, but inaudible to the others, before saying her final farewell, “See you later if you have time!”
“…”
A hush fell over the air as the bells signaling the door opening chimed softly, stirring the blind teen’s [Sound Reading]. She knew. She fucking knew. Despite knowing all along, she decided to lend a hand. ‘Why?’ Izel mused, ‘What’s her motive?’ There had to be a reason for [Velk border Hunter] like Anastasia Dunaleff, heiress to a prestigious company renowned for producing armor and vests for many famous hunters in the First District, to aid in protecting his identity. Was it genuine goodwill? Izel shook his head; the probability seemed low. Or perhaps she had some ulterior motive? Whatever the case, he couldn’t fathom it, but he trusted time would reveal her intentions. “Yes, hope to see you again,” Izel waved his hand at her, and she reciprocated. Yet, his inner voice whispered a different truth, ‘I’m sorry, but I don’t think we’ll see each other again in the future.’ He pondered briefly; after all, ‘She is trouble.’
TMP! TMP!
All in all, Izel stepped off the magical train’s main exit, despite the repeated, monotonous announcements sounding both loud and distant, the memories of what had transpired throughout the journey in the magical train playing like a stirring film in his mind. A recent farewell still sang a mysterious song in his unstable mind. Though curious, he had no choice but to set that aside for now. Chilly air tendrils billowed around the platform, gently brushing against Izel’s skin, while every passenger’s gaze briefly fixed on him before returning to their own affairs.
“This way, Sir,” one of the Border Hunters directed.
“Make way!” The other Border Hunter shouted to the nearby people, instigating both urgency and curiosity about who they were clearing a path for as everyone hurried about.
“…”
Guided by the [Main Section Border Hunters], Izel, feeling exposed without his bamboo hat and stylish bandana, ventured into the bustling waiting hall. Large screens and vibrant lights filled the space, providing a dazzling spectacle. As ripples from nearby human presences expanded, his breath lightened. The occasional resonating thunder was drowned out, leaving only the frigid scent of magical air-conditioning lingering in the air. It remained the same dazzling spectacle as the first boarding train station. The air hummed with repeated, monotonous announcements echoing through the space. The overall electric glow illuminated dirt-soaked boot steps on the linoleum floor, creating an entrancing and departing, almost slumberous aura.
Observing the relaxed demeanor of the crowd and taking in the somewhat familiar surroundings, Izel’s [Cloud-boots] parted ways with the floor, allowing him to safely navigate through the crowd to the exit of the magical train station as bustling bodily responses and different sizes of ripples and frequencies coming and going, jammed his [Sound Reading]. Izel opened his mouth as he pondered that the security seemed to be maintained reasonably at this station as well. The enchanting aroma of mana teased Izel’s senses, meticulously arranged within this sophisticated building.
“It’s enough to have come this far. From here on, I’ll move on my own. More than that, I feel burdened.” Izel indifferently said.
“Ah, yes!” The guard from the Main Section Border Hunters saluted the latter and then vanished back into the magical train station. Izel greeted him with a light bow, letting out a sigh.
With a misty atmosphere and occasional flashes of purplish eerie lightning between the gloomy, twisted clouds in the skies greeting him, Izel circulated mana to keep the accumulated trauma and fatigue at bay. Despite his frustratingly growling stomach, he chose to persevere with the task at hand. ‘Seriously, it would have been a big mess,’ he thought. He was also grateful the others had momentarily misunderstood him for a moment and… His lips trembled, but if not for the help of the lady-like hunter, he avoided being accused of being an accomplice in terrorism with the acolytes. After that fleeting moment, he let out a deep breath as the drizzle of raindrops fell on his face, flowing down his delicate neck. ‘Now that the trouble is over, I’ll be fine,’ he pondered briefly as he adjusted his black cloak’s high collar over his mouth. Indeed, it was time to take the Hunter ID test and regain his ‘Hunter ID’.
* * *
Anastasia Dunaleff, the top High-Hunter among the [Velk Border Hunters], with 1536th position in the ‘Eliluam Continent ranks,’ put on her armor-cloak’s hood as she remembered the departed Blak—Blind, the teenager who took on the identity of the other deceased man.
‘Izel Ethalt Blind,’ she thought briefly as she navigated through the drizzling rain, occasional flashes of lightning, and resonating thunder. Leaping and skillfully running over tall buildings, her mind drifted back to the first time she saw him. He had struck her as unusual, his overall vibe different from anything she had encountered before. No, he was miles ahead of anything from the past. It was as though his previous life had never existed. Witnessing his bloodlust slowly detonate a barely alive soul, and hearing reports from her subordinate—the best gunslinger on her team—about his unfazed demeanor only deepened her intrigue.
‘It was as though he had taken a life before,’ she assumed briefly as her eyes narrowed. Blind, once an F-ranked hunter and a slow-achiever of the [Cascade Guild], was no more. While the other Border Hunters might not have recognized him due to the distance and the density of his changes, she was confident in her superior eyesight and innate skill—[Mana Remembrance]. No wonder the other Hunters wouldn’t notice unless she explained it to them. Yet, to Anatasia, that would be a waste of time.
In any case, his bloodlust loomed ominously, as the acolyte squad leader, according to the recording kit, was cunningly and easily defeated. And that wasn’t all; despite the suicidal acolytes outnumbering Blind, he effortlessly vanquished them. ‘How did he grow so much in such a short time?’ she briefly pondered, biting her lower lip as she recalled his peculiar outfit.
A black cloak with a high collar draped over a neat inner ensemble hugged his now more androgynous, fairly brown-skinned physique, exuding a reserved and serious demeanor. His long, curly white-silver hair was tied back in a ponytail, with well-trimmed bangs framing his face. His dull eyes mirrored the gloom of the sky outside. Expensive-looking uptowns adorned his feet, adding to the peculiar aura enveloping him, colder than the brisk wind outside. His appearance and demeanor were striking; upon closer inspection, one might have mistaken him for a rich nobody faking being blind, exuding a sharp presence. But above all, what stirred her nerves the most was the subtle spirit emanating from him.
‘At first, I thought if he was cornered, he would cowardly reveal his identity and perhaps attempt to fight,’ she assumed, her white boots dripping with droplets propelling her higher over the towering complexes onto the long and disgustingly wide main road. Raindrops pierced the heavens and the earth, reflecting in her eyes alongside the purplish lightning. The vibe and aura emanating from Izel were reminiscent of what Anastasia felt when facing the Hidden Hunter. She shook her head, coating mana onto her feet in mid-air, leaping even higher as the chilly wind billowed through everything in its path. ‘More like the Tyrant,’ she finished her thought, categorizing Izel’s aura and bloodlust similarly to a certain aggressive Hunter who wielded two different weapons.
Yet, when Izel decides not to reveal his identity and instead takes on the new identity of his deceased traveling companion, she is convinced that whatever transformation he undergoes to gain strength not only affects him physically but also mentally. With a faint smile on her face, she acknowledges that this blind teen didn’t hesitate to leverage the significant reputation of the ‘TFO’ to prolong his survival, albeit temporarily.
However, this was a flawed strategy. Without her intervention, his actions would have led to disastrous consequences. He not only falsified his identity and showed disregard for the dead, but also aligned himself with terrorists responsible for the deaths of numerous people on the unconventional means of transportation. These three crimes alone would have warranted a thorough investigation, despite the lax surveillance of the magical train. Ultimately, he would have been left with no choice but to resort to fighting his way out of the critical situation.
“Phew,” she sighed as the wind brushed across her face. If he killed everyone with that bloodlust, he would be deemed a terrorist, labeled with a bounty of millions of Lupins like Hidden Hunters and Acolytes, and he would be pursued to the end of the world with every resource. However…
“That didn’t happen,” Anastasia whispered, relief washing over her, though she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of ruefulness at the mere thought. Her lips trembled again, curling into a hidden, fishy smile that reflected the eerie lightning crackling above. Indeed, it could have been fun—super fun. She would have tested how much the blind teen had improved.
WHOOSH!
Her somewhat wet long hair billowed in the air as she descended from the skies. She knew no one marveled at fish swimming well or birds flying through the sky. The same was true for how mysterious Izel had become, just like the “TFO,” a blind Hunter with a mysterious background. Her strong sense of déjà vu became certain when she saw and heard his name. Setting that aside, for entering through unconventional means of transportation, he must want to attend something in the [Main section] or do some test, not normal sightseeing stated in his ticket.
‘Hmm’ As her mind delved deeply into thought, ‘Hmm,’ the patter of rain, distant thunder, and flickers of lightning faded into the background. ‘Hm!’ What could possibly drive Izel Ethalt to journey this far? Was it revenge, or perhaps… It suddenly dawned on her. Could this be his attempt at the Private Hunter ID test? Expelled from the Guild a few months ago and stripped of his Hunter ID from his Hunter Kit for failing to prove his worth and value, it seemed clear what Izel intended to do. He aimed to prove himself and regain his Hunter ID simultaneously. With this realization, Anastasia’s initial apprehension melted away, replaced by a faint smile that curled at the corners of her lips. ‘I suppose our encounter is happening sooner than I expected, Izel Ethalt Blind.’
With mana coursing through her boot, she propelled herself through the air, soaring over the towering roofs of vibrant complexes and sleek factory chimneys nestled among the skyscrapers, towards the Cascade Guild. Despite the weather’s best efforts, everyday life in the city carried on, undeterred. The air was thick with the cacophony of urban sounds – the hum of traffic, the chatter of public safety radio frequencies – enveloping the city in a blanket of societal noise pollution.
* * *
In the heart of the Main Section—[Numbers] to be precise, towering and vibrant buildings stood among lofty complexes and factories, perfectly aligned at each intersection. Izel headed towards the bustling downtown region in a sleek taxi car where the majority of people congregated. Sound ripples bounced about as his fingers massaged the soft, dark leather chair with white patterns. He briefly pondered its smell, reminiscent of leather. Despite his unfazed demeanor, the four-seater car was equipped with luxurious, yet mysterious mechanical devices akin to those found on a magical train. Its magic-powered engines emitted almost no vibration, even at high speeds, with only a faint tendril of mana sensed in the air from unknown outlets and exhausts.
As the electronic sounds echoed and occasional thunder rumbled, the previously concealed exterior gradually revealed itself. Within the dimly lit interior, a plethora of mechanisms and buttons adorned the vehicle’s front, while the steering wheel boasted a unique rectangular shape. At the helm sat a black-haired man, his faint smile hinting at both enjoyment and focused direction of the car.
Izel’s plan to slip into an alley and vanish upon departing the magical train station was thwarted from the outset. It seemed as though a few Border Hunters, clandestinely patrolling the area amidst the changing weather, were determined to oversee his departure or maintain security against potential threats from hoodlums or gangs. Initially dismissing it as excessive, Izel was convinced upon realizing it was part of the [Main Section]’s security protocol.
Another reason for his caution after leaving the station stemmed from the transportation method fixated on welcoming the newly recruited ‘TFO’ member, indicating the ‘TFO’ might have heard about the high-quality manpower of acolytes and Hidden-Hunters involved in the unconventional train attack. In other words, TFO hoped Mr. Blake Griffin might still be alive.
‘But it was a relief they left when he didn’t show,’ Izel briefly thought. He had stolen his dead traveling companion’s identity to survive, hiding in a dark alley away from surveillance until the dark transport departed. Finally, he stealthily boarded a new transport heading to the [Cascade] Guild.
‘I’m safe,’ he let out a deep breath, taking in the chilly scent of the air conditioning. Aware of the secret surveillance imbued in this ride, he mused, ‘… At least after I get out of this car,’ he finished his thought. If he tried any unnecessary actions with an excuse, he’d raise suspicion. He just needed to act normally and discreetly. Even if he succeeded, he thought, he would never assume someone’s identity to survive just a little longer. He let out a sigh and decided to slowly escape his predicament rather than vanish, as the Head Border Hunter might still be trying to monitor him.
‘For now, I’ll refrain from anything that might arouse suspicion.’ Izel concluded, as the fast-moving car slowed, a gut feeling told him he had arrived at the [Cascuade] Guild. The dim scenery outside shifted, confirming his intuition. Moments later, the driver’s voice broke the silence with a smile. “Sir, almost there.”
Pulling down the dark-tinted window, Izel felt the drizzle and chilly breeze brush against his face. His [Sound Reading] picked up a cacophony of waves, ripples, and bodily responses, each bouncing off surfaces in their path. From electronic hums entangled with raindrops to distant thunder, the blind teen absorbed every detail of his surroundings.
The towering skyscraper loomed ahead, adorned with the vibrant logo of the [Bureau]. Eerie purplish lightning occasionally illuminated its sleek glass facade. Around it stretched a vast expanse of neatly paved roads and evenly planted green trees, adding to the refined beauty of the scenery. Despite the gloomy atmosphere, the Cascade Guild’s buildings stood tall and imposing, casting a shadow over the landscape. ‘This… hasn’t changed one bit,’ Izel thought briefly. The scale of each structure was impressive, making it difficult to gauge their exact size and height.
‘Perhaps it could be the tallest building in the entire [Main Section],’ Izel briefly pondered, his thoughts interrupted by a distant bodily response as the dark tires of the taxi maintained a steady pace towards the main building amidst the water-soaked paved road. Standing tall in the misty distance at the front of the Guild, a black-haired security Hunter held a dark umbrella. The air buzzed with magic, countless duplicated circles stacked upon one another until their original shape was obscured and could only be sensed. ‘Crazy,’ the blind teen remarked. There won’t be any groups with an intent to attack the Guild without a second thought, but if there’s really a group like that, it will turn to dust and disappear in a second.
Slowly, faint steam mixed with mana escaped throughout the car as its tires came to a stop. They were now only a few steps from the main building entrance.
“Finally at your destination, sir,” the driver said with a faint smile reflected in the driving mirror. As though his intuition was correct, the security Hunter opened the car’s door just before Izel could, immediately bowing slightly toward him.
TMP! TMP!
Izel handed the fee from his cloak to the driver without hesitation as the rain drizzled down and gently got out of the car. “Thank you, and have a nice day.”
With a firm JAM!, the security Hunter sealed the door shut. The sleek car rolled up the dark-tinted glass window and moved on. Nodding slightly, the tall security handed over his umbrella to Izel as he walked away. Blankly, Izel stood there, a bitter smile creeping across his face. A familiar feeling and wavelength pierced his ears. It was strange to return to a place so similar after just a few months. The scent in the air was familiar: arid, luxurious, and moist, making his nose sting as droplets trickled down his cheeks.
‘It’s been a while,’ he mused, drifting into memories of yesteryears. There was a time when he arrived here, brimming with dreams of becoming a formidable Hunter with worth. Yet, reality diverged from his aspirations. Presenting his written ‘Hunter ID’ with an 83.7%, he acknowledged that his blindness imbued his writing and reading with a unique perspective. ‘But my practicals,’ he reflected, the chill wind brushing against his exposed face, ‘that’s where the true test lay.’ Recalling the examiner’s words, he had been vying for the top spot in the written Hunter’s ID test. However, his practical assessment was enough to shatter his brilliant score. “As a blind teen with a stick,” he murmured, the sting of past disappointment lingering in his thoughts.
He also heard similar feedback on various aspects of the practical Hunter ID test—such as barrier creation, agility, lopsided stats, health, and reflexes—the disappointing results further shattered his hope. The only change came when the examiners inquired about his passion for taking the Hunter ID test. After he shared his story of growing up alone since his parents left him at a young age, one of the kinder examiners suggested starting from the basics—[Basic Swordsmanship], followed by [Mana Coating]—which were fundamental skills on Eliluam, enabling him to build a better foundation… Overall, as eerie lightning flashed, Izel sighed as he was glad he took their advice, But… ‘It’s taken so damn long to get here.’ He felt a flood of emotions, long confined within the fortress of dungeons, threatening to spill out. But there was no time to dwell on the past. With the resonated rubble of thunder, Izel knew he had to focus on the challenges ahead.
As he ascended the few steps toward the main entrance of the Guild, something. No, the waves of someone sliding open the main door jammed his [Sound Reading], making Izel to a halt. It was an identical bodily response – the heartbeat, breathing pattern, and even the walking steps of this approaching figure were unmistakably familiar to him.
“I see you’ve arrived early, Velkist Cambomir,” Izel mused aloud as he slowly turned around to face the approaching entity. It was none other than a muscular 27-year-old man with sharp reddish-brown eyes, donning a white shirt under a long frock coat that accentuated his broad shoulders. Faint yellow tendrils and mana sparkles emanated from him, dissipating the chilly breeze and the drizzle of raindrops, barely touching his nearly packed silk-crimson hair tied in a ponytail with neat bangs. His mature temperament and authoritative vibe were palpable.
“Or should I say,” Izel continued, the occasional purplish lightning flashing, revealing the handsome man before him, “it’s been a while, Guild Leader of the First District [Cascade] Branch.”
Velkist Cambomir, a legend and former High-hunter First Stage, one of the successors of the Cascade Guild, one of Eliluam’s major guilds, rubbed his luxurious tilted-orb-like watch and forced a smile as thunder resonated through the gloomy clouds. “Haha, don’t be too formal; it hasn’t been that long. I can see you’re not using a stick today.”
“You noticed. I guess it just feels like a long time because I’ve been through some strange things lately,” Izel replied bluntly, his hands stylishly in his pockets as drizzles dripped down his [Cloud boots].
“Strange things?” Stunned, Velkist asked.
“Yep.” The blind teen in front of him nodded slightly, his golden eyes closed.
Velkist Cambomir’s sharp eyes scanned Izel’s body language, breathing pattern, and mana, appearing curious about what had happened to him to reveal these new changes and his overall vibe. This was to be expected, of course—it was the normal response.
Plus… he’s probably wondering why Izel is so insistent on taking this Hunter ID test with these minor changes. Did he even think that just changing his outfit and walking without a stick would prove his worth?
With a secret, reverent smile, Izel who anticipated this bodily response mused that it’d be way more fun not to tell him. It might sound a little petty, but he had no plans to be kind to this man, especially with all the disrespect and humiliation he’d endured before being stripped of his ‘Hunter ID’—he even peed on himself in public, traumatized by shock, despair, and fear for the first time. So, he knew exactly what kind of person this damned man ‘actually’ is.
With all that happened to him in the Fortress of Dungeons and Unconventional Means of Transportation, Izel wasn’t so petty as to seek revenge on everyone who’d wronged him, but he’s not so compassionate as to pretend that none of it ever happened. That was one of the reasons he still felt much guilt when he killed the ‘Dealer’ since ‘he’ didn’t cause him any mental or physical harm or humiliation but was just fighting for survival—kill or be killed. Having a super soft heart, he also mourned his other companions who were killed by his ‘own’ party mate, and Mr. Blake who died unexpectedly on the magical train shortly after they got to know each other—that he soon had to leech on his identity for survival.
A moment of silence settled over the chilly air, the gloomy clouds swirling amidst themselves as sparks of lightning danced in between, lending a vibrant yet misty atmosphere.
Velkist Cambomir noticed the blind teen in front of him had no intention of speaking, so he moved on with a sigh. “Well, I guess that’s not important right now. You said you wanted to take the Hunter ID test, right?”
Izel nodded carefreely, If you help me, I’ll pay you the amount we agreed on,” he added.
“Sure. As long as you’re committed and prove that worth that makes you so confident enough to call and pay me,” Velkist said, his tone suggesting he didn’t expect the outcome to change. “Ah, and remember, you can only skip the theoretical written part of the Hunter ID Test and the interview. Is that okay with you?” Velkist reminded him of the terms of their agreement. He knew that was the only reason Izel had sought his help.
“… I know,” Izel responded, taking a deep breath as a chilly breeze brushed across his rain-soaked hair and clothes.
“Then let’s go in. I’ve already made the necessary arrangements,” Velkist said, concluding their conversation before turning around, with Izel following suit, clutching the briefcase tightly.
— — — —
STEP! STEP!
As they strolled through the main black tilted-double slide door of the [Bureau], the long passageways reflected eerie lightning while the breeze drizzled on the well-adorned glasses. Their steps echoed through the partially empty space with minimum decor but average lighting from overhead lights. They occasionally encountered passersby who bowed slightly upon seeing one of the successors of the top faction on Eliluam. ‘Hmm,’ Izel briefly thought as Velkist didn’t return the gesture, instead walking upright.
Before long, they entered the private hall, antique and vibrant in its own unique way with neon lighting and dark- well-polished seats shattered about, unlike the others. A few well-connected hunters with verbose backgrounds working under the Bureau chatted among themselves here and there, hoping to select private raids or check their rank after taking the Hunter ID test on the colorful dashboard on the wall. This area was different from the public hall, which was partially full of hunters queuing to take the ‘Hunter ID Test’. Izel could feel and decode the loud and wide ripples and frequencies of the loud chatter and compact bodily responses from somewhere, letting out a deep sigh as he proceeded. In any case, Velkist, who led the way, stopped at an empty employee’s counter and pressed his index finger on an orb-like device. With a beep and haptic feedback, it wheezed out.
“This is Velkist Cambomir from the Cascade branch in the Exodus section. I’m here as a sponsor for a Hunter ID Test.”
BEEEEP!
After a long vibration, a sharp voice spoke out of the speaker, “Alright. Just a second.”
Izel guessed that the untruthful man hadn’t lied about the arrangements. After speaking to the orb-like device, seemingly to the voice behind it, a middle-aged woman in a suit with an attractive face and neatly packed contrasting black hair, further accentuating her strong image, emerged from behind the well-made counter.
“Hello, I’m Mia Von Viedudam, and I’ll be your inspector for today.”
Familiar mana tendrils danced around her, catching Izel’s attention. Not only that, but an ambiguity-free scent he had sensed before—a bodily response, and an identical voice among a wavelength of the latter’s pitch he had sensed on the magical train.
“…!”
‘Anastasia Dunaleff?’ Izel thought, aghast. It didn’t take long for the pieces to connect in his mind like puzzle parts. His expression couldn’t get any worse. ‘This is… trouble?’ Indeed, trouble he had hoped to avoid for much longer. His left hand gripped the briefcase handle tightly. ‘Goddamit!’
—