Because Serein's life was dull and solitary, Clara would sometimes show up on weekends to drag her out of her den.
Either for a casual outing, or for yet another arranged meet-up with men Clara had come across on social media.
Serein disliked it every single time, yet somehow she never found it in herself to resist Clara's pull.
This particular meeting was set in a polished, high-end café downtown. Their companions today: two supposedly successful businessmen in real estate, somewhere around their early thirties.
One was Nick, with blond-brown hair, his eyes practically screaming scoundrel. Every time he wanted a waiter's attention, he would snap his fingers, arrogant and crude. Serein found him insufferable on sight.
The other was Kelvin, black hair, outwardly calm. Yet his brand of calmness carried unease, for each time he spoke he would turn the gemstone-studded ring on his finger—part boast, part calculation.
Surely Clara wasn't so short of men that she had to scrape from the bottom like this.
The conversation dragged. At least for Serein. It always did. These kinds of men only had eyes for Clara; she was nothing more than an accessory on the table.
One couldn't really blame them. Clara wasn't only a Hunter, a profession sitting at the pinnacle of this world's hierarchy.
She was also dazzlingly beautiful: hair like molten gold pouring over her shoulders, a figure sculpted in perfect curves, and a smile that shone warm and genuine to everyone she met.
A stark contrast to Serein, muted and colorless, sipping at her coffee in silence.
And then there were those ridiculous balloons dangling on Clara's chest. Serein bit down on her straw and growled under her breath, petty frustration leaking through.
Being sharp and battle-seasoned, Clara didn't miss it. Mistaking her friend's growl as sulking from being sidelined, Clara looped her arm through Serein's, pulling her into the conversation.
"Our Serein is very capable too, you know. She just bought an apartment at Skyline Residences."
Serein pinched Clara's arm lightly, urging her not to bring it up. That was nothing to brag about. She'd only managed half the down payment; the rest was debt.
The two men finally seemed to remember Serein's existence.
"Ah, wonderful." Nick muttered, not bothering to mask his disinterest. He wanted Clara alone, not this third wheel. A half-hearted smile tugged at his lips. "Skyline is quite pricey."
"Which floor is your apartment on?" Kelvin asked more smoothly, disguising his intent with a warm tone.
"The third." Serein forced a laugh. The floor said everything about the price. Barely above the lower bracket.
As real estate men, they immediately understood. Nick rolled his eyes, disappointment plain, before shifting his attention right back to Clara.
"Do you enjoy Italian cuisine, Miss Clara? There's a great place nearby I could take you to."
"If it's Italian, I happen to know the owner of a famous place myself," Kelvin chimed in, riding the tide.
Polite or not, neither man's target was Clara.
Once again, she was cast aside, and honestly she didn't mind. If anything, being ignored was preferable. She had no interest in building a home with any man.
Her home, she would build alone.
Just then, her phone rang. She looked up to excuse herself, then realized no one was paying her any attention anyway, so she slipped away in silence.
Clara noticed, started to speak, but was immediately tugged back into chatter by the two men across.
The restrooms were too crowded, so Serein diverted, slipping out the café's side door into a narrow, empty alley.
The number on the screen was unknown. She hesitated, then raised it to her ear.
"Hello?"
"Oh, you actually picked up." A reckless, mocking voice.
Serein frowned. "Who's this?"
"You're Serein Caddle, aren't you?" He ignored her question, tossing one of his own.
Her guard shot up. Her circle was so small it could be counted on one hand. The number of people who had her contact information was even fewer.
"Who are you?" She pressed, her pulse quickening, chest tightening.
The line crackled with laughter—wild, familiar.
"I know you're a Guide. If you want your wallet back, come to the address I'll send."
He hung up before she could react.
Her phone buzzed again—a message.
Serein lowered the device, hands trembling as she opened it.
34 Tarus Street, Alco District. 6 PM.
Her breath caught as though someone had stolen it from her lungs.
Eight years of hiding. Eight years of running. A hollow, meaningless peace she had built for herself, shattered by a single call.
Who was it? Who had uncovered her secret?
Fear and disorientation cracked her defenses. Her levo bled out, pulsing through her veins in spasms.
She braced a hand against the wall to steady herself, forcing deep breaths as her own levo writhed against her restraints, lashing to break free.
Calm. Think.
She replayed the call in her head. He said he knew she was a Guide. He said he had her wallet.
Last night she had her wallet at the convenience store. That was when she'd slipped, when her levo leaked. And after that, her wallet had gone missing.
The trainee Hunter?
No one else fit.
So what did he want? Money? Likely.
He was just a trainee. Surely he couldn't do much to her. At least that's what she told herself.
Either way, she had no choice. If he exposed her identity, the threat would be far worse.
Clamping down on the levo still pricking through her skin, she wrestled it back inside, her face twisting with pain.
A few seconds later, she was composed again, masking everything, as if nothing had happened.
Phone pocketed, she turned on her heel and headed back into the café. Clara mustn't know. Clara would insist on coming along.
Inside, Nick and Kelvin were still chatting away. Clara's seat was empty, she must have gone to the restroom.
Serein only wanted this charade over, so she could leave.
"She's a B-rank Hunter." Nick was saying to Kelvin—careless, not even bothering to lower his voice.
"You know the privileges the government grants Awakeners."
Serein's lip curled. Nothing new there. Special privileges for those who risked their lives in dungeons were countless: free healthcare, tax exemptions, even preferential treatment for their children's education.
That was why so many ordinary people dreamed of marrying an Awakener, to share in those benefits.
This meeting had gone on long enough. Serein was ready to pull Clara out.
Kelvin was more cautious. He leaned in, murmuring something to Nick that she couldn't catch. Nick, dissatisfied, clicked his tongue.
"Think about it, we could buy property under Awakener pricing, then resell at market value. We're talking forty percent profit."
Serein froze mid-step. Close enough now to hear every smug word spilling from Nick's mouth.
These bastards weren't just freeloaders. They were parasites, feeding on the lives of others.
Her steps quickened. She was going to shut them up before Clara returned.
"If you don't want in, fine." Nick snapped, frustrated at Kelvin's hesitation.
Then, without pause, he reached across the table, quick as a viper, and dropped something into Clara's glass.
A smooth, practiced motion. Too smooth, too precise to be his first time.
Her stomach lurched.
That bastard, he was drugging her.
The pressure that had been simmering since yesterday detonated. Fury surged through her, unstoppable.
Serein stormed toward their table.
***