"It's not that I don't want you to come," I said, "but… Orville, why did you ask to come with me?"
It had been seven days since I joined the Hunter's Guild, and most of them had gone much like the first. We woke early, ate something simple, got beaten senseless, scolded by Remus, endured Penelope's biting remarks, lunched, and then got beaten again… By now, it was routine—except for the part about lunch. I still couldn't believe hunters ate three meals a day, sometimes even more! It was outrageous. It made me furious. When I asked why hunters needed so much food, everyone looked at me like I was mad.
At least I wasn't confined to the guild hall all day. I'd feared that at first, but thankfully, I had some time to wander the city during breaks. During training, I even received a small stipend—"for living expenses." According to Nora, it was nothing, but when the coins landed in my palm, I could hardly believe it. There were enough to divide into twelve portions! How could she say it was "nothing"?
Since then, every break I got, I collected my pay and bought food—not for myself; the guild had plenty. No, this was for the people at the rundown shack where I used to live. Just simple, cheap stuff, quantity over quality. Unless the day was unusually short, what remained barely covered a mediocre street meal for everyone.
"Remus kept pushing me to spend more time socializing during breaks," Orville finally answered, glancing around as we wandered between stalls, heading toward the poorer districts of the city so I could find an affordable vendor. After all, I didn't need anything fancy—I was just trying to keep people alive.
"And you chose me? You don't usually talk to me much."
He studied me for a moment.
"...Right," he said eventually. "You don't usually talk to me either. So I chose you."
I nodded. That made sense. Most others chattered endlessly even when there was nothing left to say. Orville probably disliked that too. I had no particular reason to chat with him either, so I didn't. He wasn't especially remarkable or strong, but he performed decently during training… What else could I ask of him? I had to discuss positioning and coordination with Nora constantly. I had to speak with Bentley because he focused only on the enemy in front of him and ignored everything else. And I had to communicate with Penelope because half the time she did nothing unless told. But Orville? He hit his targets when he shot. I never needed to direct him, and outside training, I rarely saw him—he was either practicing or holed up in his room.
Finally, I found a scruffy vendor selling reasonably priced food, and I loaded my arms with supplies. Orville offered to help carry some, which I gratefully accepted. Then, I led him through alleyways deeper into the underbelly of Skyreach—a place like the city's shadow. The environment deteriorated visibly around us, yet oddly, I felt more at home here than ever. Now I stood out, drawing attention. Once, those stares would have sent me running. Now, I met them head-on—otherwise, they'd see me as easy prey.
"Vita," Orville finally said, "are you sure we're going the right way? This area has quite a few... criminals."
"Not everyone homeless is a criminal," I muttered.
He glanced back at an alley we'd passed, where five men were beating someone brutally.
"...Okay. Yeah, those guys are definitely criminals," I admitted.
"Is it safe?" he asked.
"Honestly? Not really," I told him. "Did you bring your bow?"
"...No. Didn't think I'd need it."
"That's unfortunate."
Yet, whether due to my weapon and armor or something else, we reached the shack without incident. I knocked, but the door simply collapsed inward.
"Oh," I murmured.
"Vita!"
Excited cheers erupted from inside as children swarmed me, nearly tripping over each other to hug my waist. I laughed, almost knocked over by their enthusiastic, starving energy. I distributed the food as fairly as I could, painfully aware of how thin they all were. Had I looked like this only a month ago? I was still dangerously thin, but muscle had begun forming. The difference was staggering—and unsettling.
"Hey, kiddo."
I looked up as Rowan stepped over the children, smiling as he hugged me.
"I'm not a kid anymore," I instinctively replied, hugging him tightly. "How have you been?"
"Much better, thanks to you. Who's this? Got yourself a boyfriend already?"
He tilted his head toward Orville, making me blush.
"No! Don't be silly, Rowan! This is Orville—he's our team's archer."
"Hmm?" Orville mumbled, looking up with difficulty suppressing his startled expression. "Oh, uh, yes. Nice to meet you... sir."
"Pleasure to meet you too, 'our team's archer,'" Rowan replied, shaking his hand warmly.
"He means I'm a bowman," Orville clarified, occasionally glancing at the twelve children devouring food. "...Did Vita grow up here?"
"She's been with us for over a year," Rowan answered. "What she did before—that's her business."
"Just about the same as now, except worse," I cut in. "Nothing worth talking about."
"...Worse?" Orville muttered, but I didn't bother answering. It wasn't hard to imagine—just endless loss.
"Actually, Vita, I wanted to talk privately..." Rowan hinted.
"Huh? Oh, okay." I turned to the kids. "Nobody steals from Orville or me, or I'll beat you. Understand?"
A chorus of giggles and "Yeahs!" sufficed as a response. Rowan and I moved deeper into the shack, out of sight, and he cast a soundproof bubble around us.
"The Templar Order wants me to spy on the Backbender Gang," he said flatly.
"Oh," I whispered. "Oh no… That's bad."
"Yeah, really bad. I don't know how they found out about my connection. Honestly, I suspect they might not know—they're just intimidating me. We owe the Backbenders… mainly because their leader wants me and Lynn to take riskier jobs. In this part of the city, trained mages are valuable—and Lynn is particularly skilled. I don't think it's worth the risk, but now the Templars want me to accept the job, infiltrate the gang, and report back."
I frowned.
"Do you have a choice?"
"Not sure," he replied. "Maybe. But they're the Templar Order . If they wanted, they could make my life miserable in non-violent ways—and likely will. The envoy they've sent is decent enough, but I'm not naïve enough to think he makes the decisions. The main temptation is… well, the payment is generous."
I hugged him tightly.
"...Whatever you decide, I'll try to help. Our first hunting mission should start in about one or two weeks, but I'll be here until then."
"Thanks, Vita," he absentmindedly patted my head. "I just don't know what to do. It's dangerous… but refusing the Templars is also risky."
"What benefits do we get from working for the Templars besides money? I can handle the financial side."
"...Not many," Rowan frowned. "The Templars might ensure the kids' safety, but if I suddenly receive mysterious support, I'll become a useless spy. The shack itself is rented from the Backbenders, so if the kids move, they'll notice. It's just…"
"...Who are we more afraid of," I continued, "the Templars or the Backbenders?"
"Not exactly," Rowan said. "I mean, obviously the Templars are scarier. They're far more dangerous. But if they get angry, they might just harass me endlessly instead of dragging me into an alley and killing me."
"So what's the issue?"
"I dislike the Templars, fear them. But I hate the Backbenders. I want revenge—for the sake of it."
I smiled slightly.
"Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? Just promise me you won't die."
He chuckled.
"Alright, I promise, Vita."
I nodded. Only one thing remained.
"What about Lynn? How does she feel about this?"
"She's out working. She's clearly hesitant," he answered. "Don't tell her I told you—but she's actually as scared of the Backbenders as I am, maybe even close to how much I hate them. Their gang has some formidable members, even by Lynn's standards… And, of course, if they discover our betrayal, the kids lose everything. Possibly forever. They claim it's debt, but everyone knows the real leverage they hold is these children."
"Oh."
"Yeah," Rowan replied. "But… wow, Vita, you've grown so fast. Watching you, we can't help hoping all the kids could have such opportunities. You understand?"
"Yeah," I agreed. "The Hunter's Guild feels like a completely different world."
"Then you should return to your world."
Rowan patted my arm, dispelled the bubble, and we walked out together. The children surrounded Orville, asking endless questions about the Hunter's Guild.
"Well, kids, I've got to go," I declared proudly, savoring the word. "Orville, check your pockets—we're leaving."
I started walking back, cautiously alert, my senses sharpened like peeled potatoes. Walking itself was excellent training—I had to memorize every detail of the streets. Nothing could be missed. I imagined the entire world like Rowan's cup game: every detail crucial, yet each detail also distracting from others.
"We all laughed, you know?" Orville interrupted my focus—almost irritating, but no, multitasking was better practice.
"Laughed?" I asked.
"When Bentley told us you took so much food and ran off, we all laughed. Even Penelope chuckled. We thought it was hilarious."
"Oh."
"Yeah… Sorry, I didn't realize how important it was to you."
"It's fine."
We walked in silence for a while. To avoid crowds, I took a long detour through alleys. Annoying, considering how many people shared the path.
"Are you really sixteen?" Orville asked. "Penelope insists you can't be."
"Penelope can go to hell," I snapped reflexively—her spreading the lie annoyed me more than it should have. "As far as I know, I am sixteen."
He nodded.
"Okay, sorry for doubting. Seeing you now, things make more sense."
I nodded back, refocusing on the alley. Something felt off. Those strange turns we took—two others followed identically. Too coincidental.
"I think we're being followed," I warned.
Orville raised an eyebrow.
"Followed? By who?"
"Two people."
One soul felt soft as velvet—deceptively inviting, yet oily beneath. The other was slick and semi-transparent brown, like grease clinging to everything.
"Hmm, well, I don't have my bow, but I can still cast spells. Vita, what do you want to do?"
"We should try to shake them. I don't like how their souls feel."
Orville gave me a concerned look.
"What?"
"Uh, I mean, according to my ability. One feels oily, the other extra oily. Not like cooked meat—more disgusting. This way."
I turned into an alley, but no matter how randomly I twisted, they stayed behind, mimicking my turns. These two must've had abilities similar to mine. The alley was nearly empty, though reaching a busier street might give us a chance—the problem was this was a rough neighborhood, and escape would take time. Still, I had an idea to stop them following us.
"Lift me onto this wall," I instructed, heading toward a low dividing wall just high enough to climb over—an earthen barrier separating the alley from private property.
"...Why not you lift me over?" Orville grumbled.
"I'm lighter! Hurry, give me a boost!"
He helped me climb the wall. Once atop, I turned and reached down for Orville, my legs dangling on the other side. As soon as I pulled him up, I spotted Friggs and Squeegs approaching. The two assassins? Really them? Why were they following us?
"Get down," I whispered.
"What?"
I rolled my eyes, pushed him lower, and when he looked up to protest, I placed a finger to my lips. I didn't know what they wanted, but I couldn't let them see my friend clearly.
I crouched uncomfortably on the wall, limbs dangling on both sides. Looking down from this angle was awkward. As Squeegs and Friggs approached, I forced myself not to glare. For assassins, they weren't so bad—they'd once given me good food and allowed me to absorb a delicious soul. Still, better safe than sorry.
"Well, well! Isn't it little Vita!" Squeegs called, arms wide as if to embrace me. "You didn't mention you were one of Lynn's brats!"
"You didn't ask!" I shouted back. "It's not a secret!"
"We were just surprised," Friggs smoothly replied. "We know Lynn quite well—we could call ourselves colleagues. Her employer occasionally hires us."
The shorter man, Friggs—his soul felt like velvet—was far better at feigned politeness… but still unsettled me.
"Wish you luck," I called. "Why are you following me?"
"We were just curious!" Squeegs grinned. "You look so much healthier than last time—hardly recognizable! Doing well for yourself, Vita?"
"Doing alright," Friggs added. "People wonder if that's related to Rowan's overdue payments."
I shrugged uncomfortably on the wall.
"Sorry, guys—I spent the money on food. Are you here to scare me, or is there something else?"
Squeegs frowned, but Friggs burst into laughter.
"Squeegs, I told you! I like this girl! We should've taken her with us back then."
"We just wanted to confirm you're the worthwhile investment your 'boss' claims—rather than a reckless brat squandering funds."
"Got it," I said. "I'll remember. I'll leave some money for your boss. Though I won't have much until I start monster hunting."
"Damn it," Squeegs cursed. "Monster hunting? You're risking death for quick cash? Did you know if you die, they don't provide relief for relatives?"
"I wouldn't be so sure, Squeegs!" Friggs laughed. "I'd bet on her. Hunting's noble work—and suits someone like her perfectly."
"...Someone like me?" I slowly asked.
He smiled.
"Of course—a killer. You've got the grit to survive. Vita, when's your first hunt?"
I frowned.
"...Probably within two weeks, though I can't decide."
"Three weeks then," he said. "You'll prove yourself a worthy investment by then, Vita."
My frown deepened.
"Fine." I said. "And Rowan isn't my father."
I jumped off the wall beside Orville. Honestly, it probably didn't stop them permanently, but they didn't follow further—at least for now. Orville opened his mouth, but I silenced him with a gesture and quickly distanced us from Friggs and Squeegs. I monitored them until they vanished from my perception before relaxing slightly.
"...Alright," I said. "Now you can talk."
"You owe money to the mafia?" he whispered.
"Not exactly," I said. "But… basically. More accurately, they think I'm responsible for someone else's debt—and if I don't help repay, they might target people I care about."
He gave me a strange look.
"You're awfully calm about this."
I shrugged.
"It's not that big a deal. I planned to help repay anyway. They didn't need to threaten me."
"But they did threaten you. Aren't you worried?"
I frowned, thinking about their soul strength—it wasn't significantly stronger than mine.
"...I might be able to handle them."
He watched me silently as we walked.
"They called you an assassin. Have you killed anyone?"
"Yeah."
"How many?"
"One." I lied. "Unless you count rats. More commonly, I've seen how many people die."
"How many?"
I thought as we finally reached the bustling street, the city growing pleasant again as we left my old district behind.
"...Don't know. Hundreds, maybe." I admitted. "Sometimes you hide somewhere to sleep, and the person beside you never wakes up. Sometimes illness takes someone—and drags away everyone they knew. Sometimes you walk the streets and see someone stab another in an alley. It happens often, really."
Orville slowly nodded.
"...Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.
I shrugged. Part of me wanted to—but I shouldn't. Grigg deserved to stay buried with me.
"Life where I grew up was tough," I rephrased. "When I asked why hunters eat so much, I wasn't joking. I didn't know most people ate three meals a day. I just..."
I trailed off, unsure how to continue.
"...Honestly, knowing places like yours exist in the same city is terrifying," Orville whispered. "No one should live like that."
"Then feel free to send extra money and food to my family," I muttered. "Though not too much food. I've seen people suddenly rich from luck, then overeat themselves to death."
"...Mind if I come with you tomorrow too?" he asked.
I studied him for a moment, watching his slight discomfort.
"Just remember to bring your bow next time."