XXIX
I woke up to the sight of the clock flashing 10:00 AM. My heart skipped a beat—had I missed something crucial? The exam schedule was still unclear, and the uncertainty gnawed at me.
Why hadn't I asked? Sometimes, I could be such an idiot.
Grabbing my phone, I noticed several missed calls from Selena. A message waited, and knowing her, I braced myself for whatever chaos she'd stirred up.
I just broke into your room, saw you were still sleeping, felt you up real good to find your phone and contact number, and then I texted you this. Awesome. And you better wake up before lunch, or I'll sack you until the next exams. —Selena.
I burst out laughing. That was so her. Shaking my head, I saved her number with a mental note: Emergency calls only—because she'll make sure it's one.
Still smirking, I pulled myself together. If today's exam was anything like yesterday's, I'd need to stay sharp. And with Selena around, procrastination was not an option.
Once I was dressed and ready, I flagged someone down for directions to the cafeteria. My stomach growled in agreement—it was definitely time to eat. Following the directions, I finally reached the bustling cafeteria.
I didn't hold back. Pancakes drenched in syrup, a burger loaded with toppings, fries, salad for balance, and a strong coffee to kick-start my brain.
Halfway through my meal, Selena dropped into the seat across from me, a drumstick in hand and amusement flickering in her eyes.
"You eat like a horse," she said dryly.
"Thanks," I replied, unfazed. "Care to explain how you kept tabs on me after I disabled the tracking function on my tarot card?"
She grinned, biting into her drumstick. "Bugged your phone. And your clothes."
I sighed, pulling out my phone and handing it over. "Take them out."
With a smug expression, she extracted a tiny tracking device from the phone case. "For the record, I also left laser sensors, traps, and drones in your room. Just doing my job as your bodyguard."
I chuckled. "Subtlety really isn't your thing, is it?"
"Subtlety's for amateurs," she said, taking another bite. "You're welcome, by the way."
"Thanks, bodyguard," I muttered, sipping my coffee.
Selena was a marvel. Her disguise attribute let her compress objects, making her a walking arsenal. She could pull weapons from thin air and still look nonchalant about it.
"So," I asked, popping a fry into my mouth, "any idea where the next phase of the exam is?"
She paused, wiping her hands. "They're keeping it quiet, which usually means something big. My guess? Terrain change—maybe a hostile facility or a survival scenario with limited resources."
I nodded. That sounded about right. The first phase had been child's play compared to what lay ahead.
Selena's eyes gleamed with excitement. "It'll probably be in the field this time. None of that staged lobby nonsense. Real action."
I smirked. "If by action, you mean grueling, then sure."
This next phase would test everything—strategy, endurance, aura manipulation. It was the real deal, separating the hunters from the pretenders.
"Any word on the new challengers?" I asked.
Selena leaned back, her grin widening. "Almost all of them are threats. But the one to watch out for? The Spear God."
I raised an eyebrow. "The Spear God?"
The title alone carried weight. He was the son of Ranas, one of the Seven Extremes and the Fighter's Pillar. The Spear God was practically royalty in the hunter world.
"Big shoes to fill," I remarked.
Selena nodded. "Ranas is rumored to be on his last legs. Everyone's watching his son, hoping to either challenge him or prove themselves worthy of the throne when the old man's gone."
I let that sink in. The Spear God wouldn't just be a participant—he'd be the ultimate benchmark. Facing him wasn't just a challenge; it was an opportunity to rise.
Selena leaned forward, her tone conspiratorial. "Think you can take him?"
I met her gaze, my smirk returning. "Guess we'll find out."
"I like the confidence," idly remarked Selena.
The Hunter's Association president was rumored to be the closest contender to claiming the title of the next Extreme Fighter. If Ranas truly was nearing the end of his reign, the competition for that throne was bound to ignite in ways that would shake the entire Hunter world.
I polished off the last bite of my brunch, savoring the coffee that followed. Selena motioned for me to follow her.
"We're taking the bullet train," she explained as we exited the cafeteria. "The next exam venue's a week away."
I frowned, keeping my thoughts to myself. A whole week of travel? That wasn't just unusual—it was ominous. Whatever lay ahead had to be monumental, dangerous, or both.
Selena walked ahead, rattling off the names of the other contenders we'd face. "Big Dwarf, Iron Fist, Palm Reader," she listed casually, each name rolling off her tongue as if she'd memorized them long ago.
I wasn't impressed. Fearsome nicknames were a dime a dozen in the Hunter world, and none of these struck me as particularly noteworthy.
And then she said a name that made me stop in my tracks.
"Come again?" I asked, my voice sharp.
She glanced back at me, her expression puzzled. "Some guy called Diamond Black."
I gulped. Diamond Black.
A name like that carried weight—and not the good kind. But then I remembered something that kept me from panicking outright. He owed me a favor. How many was it, again?
I pulled out my notebook and flipped through its pages until I found the entry. Sure enough, there it was. One favor. I grinned, more to reassure myself than anything else.
Diamond Black was terrifying, sure. But having that favor in my back pocket was enough to keep my nerves steady—for now.
In the Hunter world, you learned quickly that psychopaths weren't just common—they were practically a job requirement. If you couldn't stomach violence, couldn't spot someone truly insane, or couldn't fake insanity yourself, you wouldn't last long.
Take Loki, for example. He loved to act the part of a lunatic, reveling in theatrics and mischief. But that was all it was—an act. A mask he wore to get under people's skin and achieve his goals.
Diamond Black, though… he wasn't pretending. He didn't hunt cryptids or rogue Hunters like the rest of us. His targets were "Devils."
In our world, Devils weren't just cryptids—they were something far worse. They drew out the darkest impulses in people, fostering psychopathy and chaos wherever they went. And Diamond Black hunted them with a single-minded obsession.
That obsession made him a dangerous ally and an even more dangerous enemy. The last thing I wanted was to end up in his crosshairs or, worse, one of his "tools" in the hunt.
That was why I kept my distance whenever I involved him in my work. And why I planned to burn through that favor sooner rather than later. The longer I held onto it, the more likely it was to backfire.
Sometimes, I considered cashing it in for money, just to get it over with. But that would undermine the mystique I'd worked so hard to cultivate. A favor from Diamond Black wasn't just leverage—it was a badge of privilege in certain circles.
Selena noticed my hesitation and cocked an eyebrow. "What's the problem?"
I forced a grin. "No problem at all."
She gave me a skeptical look but didn't press further.
We walked.
The train platform was chaos. It was packed shoulder-to-shoulder with people, their attention focused on a commotion near the center. A loose circle had formed, and at its heart stood two men who couldn't have been more different.
The first caught my eye immediately. His long dark hair was tied back in a neat ponytail, and his clothing—a red robe over crisp white pants—exuded elegance. The fabric shimmered faintly, clearly expensive, and the oriental style only enhanced his refined aura. He carried a spear slung casually over his shoulder, but it was his presence that truly set him apart. His handsome face, a mask of restrained annoyance, barely concealed the sheer authority radiating from him.
I didn't need an introduction to know who he was. Shen, the Spear God.
The other man was his complete opposite. His coarse leather jacket looked ready to fall apart, and his faded shirt and fraying jeans suggested he hadn't cared about his appearance in years. His face was rugged and unshaven, grime clinging to his features like a second skin. If Shen embodied precision and control, this man was chaos incarnate.
The tension between them was palpable.
"Apologize," Shen said, his voice calm yet commanding.
The beggar scoffed, his smirk oozing mockery. "Apologize? For what? Calling you what you are? A talentless bastard kicked out of his own house. Now you're here, scraping for a spot in the Association because you've got nowhere else to go."
The insult hung in the air like a thundercloud. Shen's jaw tightened, his hand gripping the spear more firmly.
I sighed, already feeling the heat of the brewing storm. This wasn't the kind of start I'd envisioned for the journey. Selena, ever the curious one, had already approached a burly hunter standing near the edge of the crowd.
"What's the story here?" she asked, her tone casual but edged with interest.
The man shrugged, his arms crossed as he watched the scene. "That beggar? Been mouthing off since Shen got here. Seems like he's looking to get himself killed."
I followed his gaze, studying the so-called beggar. His ragged appearance might've fooled most people, but I wasn't convinced. There was a sharpness in his eyes, a deliberate quality to his movements. This wasn't some random vagrant; he knew exactly what he was doing.
And then the beggar spat—right on Shen's shoe.
The collective gasp from the crowd was deafening.
Shen didn't move. Not at first. His eyes flicked down to his soiled shoe, then back to the beggar, who had already turned his back with casual indifference.
That was a mistake.
Shen moved like lightning. In a single fluid motion, he unslung his spear and swept it in a precise arc. The beggar dodged just in time, the spear slicing through the air where his head had been moments before.
The crowd scattered, giving the two men space as Shen advanced, his every step deliberate.
"Fight me, then," the beggar taunted, his grin widening. "Show me if you're more than just your daddy's disappointment."
Shen didn't reply. His spear twirled, the blade gleaming as he launched a series of rapid strikes. The beggar evaded with surprising agility, his movements almost playful as if he were toying with Shen.
Selena nudged me. "What do you think?"
I didn't answer immediately, my eyes locked on the unfolding fight. The beggar's scrappy appearance belied his skill. He wasn't just dodging—he was reading Shen's moves, anticipating them with an almost eerie precision.
"This guy's no ordinary drifter," I muttered.
"No kidding," Selena said, her voice low. "Think he's testing Shen?"
"Maybe," I replied. "Or maybe he's just trying to make a point."
The fight escalated, Shen's strikes growing faster, more aggressive. But the beggar remained untouchable, slipping through the gaps in Shen's attacks like water through a sieve.
Finally, Shen paused, his spear poised but unmoving. The beggar stood a few feet away, his grin still intact.
"Done already?" the beggar teased.
Shen's eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"
The beggar chuckled, brushing imaginary dust off his jacket as he spat on Shen's shoe.
~029