The Hunter Guild building had already fallen behind, yet the noise inside still echoed in Raijin's ears—
the sound of boots against wooden floors,
quests hanging on the notice board,
and the gazes of strangers.
In his hand was the Temporary Rank B tag.
No joy.
No pride.
Only exhaustion.
He had just stepped outside when a voice called from behind.
"Wait!"
Sofia.
Raijin heard it, but his steps didn't stop.
As if stopping was never part of his nature.
Sofia didn't give up. She ran up to him, breathing fast.
"You helped us a lot," she said.
She opened her pouch. The shine of gold was clear under the sunlight.
Raijin immediately pulled his hand back.
"No," his voice was flat. "I didn't do anything."
He walked forward—then stopped on his own.
"I wasn't in my senses back then.
Whatever I did… it wasn't calculated.
It was just anger piled up inside me."
Sofia looked into his eyes.
She saw no excuse there—only a person carrying too much within.
"We don't know what you were feeling at that moment," she said softly.
"Anger, fear, or pain.
We only know that you saved our lives."
Saying that, she quickly placed ten gold coins into his hand and turned away.
Raijin said nothing.
He looked at the coins, closed his fist…
and walked on without turning back.
"First, a room," he thought while moving.
"Then food."
His gaze fell on himself.
His clothes were torn in several places, dust and dried blood clearly visible.
"And clothes too."
His eyes shifted to his sword.
Rusty, the edge nearly gone, the grip loose.
It wasn't really a sword…
just something he had picked up out of necessity.
From the place where everything had broken.
The city streets were wide, wooden and stone shops lined both sides.
The clang of hammers against iron, the scent of spices,
people talking, laughing, bargaining.
Watching all of it, his mind drifted back without permission.
The same road.
The same atmosphere.
The same moment…
when Sora had called from behind.
"Coming?"
That day, the path had been new and his heart light.
Today, the path was the same—
but his heart was heavy.
Lost in thought, he stopped before a shop.
A clothing store.
The moment he stepped inside, the scent of fabric filled the air.
Clothes hung neatly on wooden racks, sewing tools lined the walls,
and behind the counter stood a middle-aged man.
Raijin didn't talk much.
He examined the clothes, testing the thickness of the fabric with his hands.
Sturdy leather boots.
A simple pair of pants.
A white shirt.
Thank You For Reading This Chapter.
Author: Mohammed Zaid Saifi