Far from the civilized cities of the Azian Continent, on the outskirts of Meteor City, stood a small, lonely structure.
It was nothing more than a wooden house—single-story, with a slanted roof and weather-worn walls—but it was maintained with quiet care. Moss crept along its edges, and a narrow dirt path led from its door into the vast forest beyond.
The trees were ancient.
Not tall in the proud way of cultivated woods, but thick, twisted, and layered. Roots split the earth like veins. Leaves formed a dense ceiling, allowing sunlight to fall only in scattered beams.
This forest was not natural.
One month earlier, under Zodiac supervision, Hunters had seeded the area with rare and volatile plant species—organisms that reacted, soil pressure, and human presence. Some were harmless. Others were not.
At dawn, the clearing before the small house filled with people.
Hundreds of Hunter candidates gathered behind wooden barriers and metal gates, their voices blending into a low, restless murmur. Some looked eager. Some looked terrified. Some openly carried weapons, as if daring the exam to challenge them.
The house served as the command post.
From its porch, a single figure observed the crowd with relaxed interest.
Pyon—one of the Zodiacs.
Her eyes moved across the candidates like a scientist studying an experiment.
She stepped forward onto the wooden platform. The boards creaked beneath her feet, but her posture was loose, almost playful. Her gaze swept over the crowd as though they were specimens laid out for inspection.
"Welcome," she said brightly. "You are standing on the western edge of the Azian Continent, just outside Meteor City, inside a controlled forest belt operated by the Hunter Association."
She raised one finger and pointed toward the vast sea of trees behind her.
"That forest is not natural. Every tree, every root, every patch of soil you will step on has been cultivated, transplanted, or engineered by Hunters. Some of it was planted months ago. Some of it is far older."
A few candidates shifted uneasily.
Pyon smiled.
"That makes it ideal for an exam."
She turned back to them.
"This is the 280th Hunter Exam."
A ripple of murmurs passed through the crowd.
"Your first test will determine whether you are allowed to continue."
At her gesture, Association staff stepped forward, each carrying a stack of cards and a small metal container.
"You will each receive a card," Pyon continued. "On that card is an image of a specific plant located somewhere inside the forest."
The cards were distributed quickly. Each bore a detailed illustration—different leaves, different roots, different flowers.
"Before sunset, you must return to this platform with one intact specimen of the plant shown on your card."
She lifted one of the containers.
"You will also receive a preservation capsule. Your plant must be stored inside it. If the plant is damaged, crushed, or improperly removed, it will be considered destroyed—and you will fail."
Several candidates began flipping their cards over.
"Good," Pyon said. "On the back is the correct harvesting method. Some plants must be pulled. Some must be cut. Some must be removed with the surrounding soil. Follow those instructions carefully."
She tilted her head.
"You are allowed to steal."
The mood shifted instantly.
"If another candidate has the plant you need, you may take the plant. Deception, ambush, negotiation, and force are all permitted."
Her eyes sharpened.
"You are not allowed to kill."
A ripple of surprise moved through the crowd.
"Some of these plants are extremely sensitive to blood," Pyon explained. "If blood touches them, they may rot, mutate, or become violently unstable."
A thin smile curved her lips.
"Anyone who kills another candidate will be disqualified immediately."
She clasped her hands behind her back.
"You have until the moment the final ray of sunlight disappears behind the horizon. Not dusk. Not twilight. The final ray."
Her gaze drifted toward the forest.
"What you are not told," she added lightly, "is that some of you have been given the same plant."
Several candidates stiffened.
"And some of those plants exist in very limited numbers. In a few cases… only one."
Silence spread.
She stepped back.
"When the horn sounds, you may enter the forest."
The horn blared.
Hundreds of candidates surged forward, sprinting toward the tree line. Dust filled the air. Leaves shook. Voices rose and vanished between the trunks.
Within seconds, the clearing was almost empty.
Almost.
Five figures remained.
They did not run.
They walked.
Each approached the forest from a different direction, calm amid the chaos. Slowly, they noticed one another.
A tall woman slowed her steps.
A hooded man paused near a fallen log.
A nervous girl lingered at the edge of the path.
A small boy stood atop a rock, blinking.
A pale man leaned against a tree, observing them all.
Five.
They drifted closer, curiosity outweighing suspicion.
Without speaking, each produced their card.
Five cards.
Five different plants.
No duplicates.
Someone let out a quiet breath.
They did not need to fight one another.
Not yet.
From the platform, Pyon watched them.
What an interesting bunch.
Pyon's smile sharpened.