The sound of an old television in the corner of the restaurant broke the quiet morning air.
"The Vanguard Clan has cleared an S-Rank Dungeon in just forty-two minutes! No civilian or Hunter casualties were reported in this raid!"
On the screen, a group of uniformed hunters walked out of a slowly closing dungeon gate. Their names, rankings, and achievements flashed across the screen like celebrity advertisements.
An elderly customer sipping tea clicked his tongue.
"Kids these days… no need to struggle finding work anymore. Train a little, become a Hunter, and money just rolls in. Rich before thirty."
Another customer chuckled.
"Or dead before thirty."
The news anchor kept smiling, as if the casualty numbers in the corner were nothing more than routine statistics that appeared every week.
In this world, the appearance of dungeon gates had become part of everyday life. Hunters were no longer legends but professionals measured by rankings and numbers. To become a Hunter, a person could register directly with the association after passing a basic aptitude test. The path was faster, but far crueler. No mentors, no protection, only numbers and results on the field.
Some people chose to enter Hunter academies first. There, they were trained to fight, taught dungeon tactics, and shown how to survive when everything went wrong. Academy graduates usually gained access to guild networks, better equipment, and more stable career opportunities. At least, that was what the promotional brochures promised.
In the end, whether through an academy or the direct route, the Hunter world remained the same. Rankings determined a person's worth, and a small mistake could mean the end of everything.
Inside a small restaurant at the edge of the city, everything felt far more ordinary.
Behind the counter, a restaurant employee lowered the volume of the television without expression. He stood still for a moment, as if thinking about something, before returning to work.
The soft splash of water could be heard as the shop door opened.
A customer left, and moments later another person held the door open before rushing inside. She walked straight to the nearest table by the counter.
The place was small, Asian-style, tucked away on a quiet street few people visited. Not exactly popular, but well-loved by locals who wanted familiar, comforting flavors.
"One special chicken noodles and an iced coffee!" the woman ordered without hesitation.
Jason, the employee, raised an eyebrow slightly.
"Hmm? Not your usual order?"
"My mood's terrible. I need noodles right now."
"Oh."
Silence lingered for a few seconds.
Adelia stared at him in disbelief.
"How cold! Your dear friend is feeling down and that's all you've got? Just 'oh'? Now I feel even worse!"
Jason looked at her flatly.
"Me? Your dear friend?"
"Huhuhu, Master!" Adelia turned dramatically toward the kitchen. "Your employee gets meaner every day. At this rate I won't come back anymore!"
A relaxed, deep voice came from behind the kitchen wall.
"Lady Adelia, feel free to hit him if necessary."
Her expression brightened instantly.
"Master! You really understands me!"
Her hand lightly smacked the top of Jason's head.
"You're interrupting my work," Jason said with a sigh.
"I'm stressed," Adelia replied quickly. "And you look like someone ready to listen to my problems."
"That is not the expression I'm making."
Adelia rested her chin on her palm.
"Let me guess. You're not asking, but you still wanna know. So I'll just tell you anyway."
Jason said nothing. That was apparently enough permission for her.
"It's about the academy again," she continued. "Remember that lowest-ranked class I told you about? Things have gotten worse. People are calling them the 'Class of Failures' now. And their homeroom teacher, Mr. Liam, resigned this morning. Rumor says he couldn't handle them anymore."
"That's bad," Jason said as he placed a bowl of noodles in front of her. "Did they find a replacement?"
Adelia pointed at herself with a tragic expression.
"Behold, the next victim. Starting tomorrow, I'm their temporary teacher."
Jason paused, then pulled out a chair and sat across from her.
"You're doomed."
Adelia glared at him.
"Couldn't you at least try to encourage me instead of making me feel worse?"
"I'm being realistic."
"Huhuhu… what does the academy expect from someone who's only taught for three years? Even Mr. Liam gave up."
Jason shrugged.
"Maybe they're being realistic too and think you're suitable for it."
Adelia narrowed her eyes, then suddenly grabbed the sleeve of his uniform as he tried to walk away.
"Jason."
"No."
"I haven't said anything yet."
"I already know where this is going."
"I need your help."
Jason's face instantly shifted into pure refusal.
"I work tomorrow."
"I need you the day after tomorrow. For field practice day."
"I work then too."
From the kitchen, the Master spoke again without being asked.
"You can take the day off."
Jason slowly turned his head.
"Oh, so everyone's conspiring now."
"I'll pick you up at six in the morning," Adelia said quickly before he could protest. "Don't forget to shower and wear something neat."
"But…"
"Woah! These noodles are always good looking. Wonder how it taste."
Adelia immediately slurped her noodles like the conversation was finished.
Jason stood there silently for a few seconds before returning to the counter with a long sigh.
In the corner, the television played another segment about famous hunters. The volume remained low.
It all reminded him of his past.
And the day after tomorrow, he would step back into the place where memories he had buried with great effort still lingered.
All Jason could do was hope that nothing happened… nothing he didn't want to face again.