XXVI
"It's irrelevant," I said evenly, holding my stance calm and firm despite the tension in the room. My suspicions about the timing of the ambush sharpened, the so-called "safe zone" proving to be anything but.
Crossing my arms, I maintained my composure. "The no-kill rule only applied during the exam itself. This is a stopover."
Silhouette's voice cut through the room like a blade. "Mere sophistry won't get you out of this."
I met his gaze—or the void where his gaze would be—head-on. "I'm not spinning tales. I'm being direct. I killed that woman in self-defense. And if you hadn't restrained him," I added, gesturing toward Gerry, "I'd have done the same to him. He's a threat to me." My voice hardened. "Right now, it's my word against his. Unless you can present irrefutable evidence that I acted in bad faith, I welcome whatever punishment you see fit."
The room was silent, every hunter watching. None owed me loyalty, but my words planted seeds of doubt. Hunters might avoid unnecessary entanglements, but they were also witnesses. Silhouette's reputation and power added weight to this moment.
Gerry's scowl deepened, his tone dripping with disdain. "Is this the honor of the Association? To be swayed by a mere pebble's words?"
Silhouette's gaze snapped to him, a slender finger rising as shadowy tendrils wrapped around Gerry's mouth, silencing him. "Hush," Silhouette muttered, irritation clear. "I'm thinking." His aura rippled, and he muttered to himself, "Such an unpleasant development…"
That's when Wolf stepped forward hesitantly, raising his hand. "Uh, excuse me, sir. I'd like to stand as a witness."
The room turned to him, surprise evident.
Wolf cleared his throat, glancing at me. "I believe Mr. Reynard acted in self-defense. I saw it myself—I have a good eye for these things." He reached into his pocket, pulling out a pair of knives and handing them to Silhouette. "These were used as projectiles. I saw it happen."
Another voice joined in—Sarah. She stepped forward, her expression calm but resolute. "It's as the boy said. This man is innocent."
I kept my focus on Silhouette, my tone sharpening. "The Association doesn't seem concerned with the weak, only acting after the fact instead of preventing harm. If you wanted to stop this, you could have teleported me out of danger. But no, you waited. So, who's really responsible for that woman's death?"
The air grew heavier as Silhouette's aura fluctuated. His shadowy eyes flitted between me and the others before narrowing slightly.
"Well played," he muttered, amusement lacing his voice. With a gesture, the chains binding Selena and Gerry dissolved into mist.
The moment Gerry was free, his fury erupted. Summoning a pair of gleaming daggers, he leveled them at me, his voice trembling with rage. "I won't let this stand! I'm going to—"
Silhouette moved faster than thought, his hand clamping around Gerry's throat. Shadows flickered ominously, the weight of his aura pressing down on everyone in the room. His voice was low, each word making the light pulse in time.
"Don't," Silhouette said, his tone a quiet, menacing command. "Not in my presence. Do you understand, boy? Blink once if you understand."
Gerry's wide eyes betrayed his panic. He blinked once, his reluctance clear.
"Good." Silhouette released him, letting him drop to the floor. Gerry staggered backward, coughing and seething, but made no further move.
Silhouette turned to me, his gaze unreadable. I gave him a curt nod, acknowledging the gravity of the moment.
"Now," Silhouette sighed, summoning a sleek black cane from the air. Tapping it twice against the floor, the oppressive energy dissipated, leaving an eerie calm in its wake. "Congratulations. You've all passed!"
A stunned silence followed, thick with disbelief.
Silhouette frowned, tapping his cane again, his voice demanding. "Applause, if you will."
Reluctantly, the room broke into scattered claps, the sound uneven and hesitant under his expectant gaze.
"Now," Silhouette continued, his tone sharp and commanding, "you have two choices." He gestured to the left. "Here lies the path to your licenses. You may take them and leave, free of this exam."
Then, sweeping his cane to the right, he added, "To my right are luxury suites where you may rest and prepare. But be warned—tomorrow, the true test begins. The no-kill rule will no longer apply. From here on, you risk death."
His voice deepened. "Retreating now is no shame. A license alone will suffice for most. If you are new to aura, I strongly advise against continuing. Pick the path to my left… and you shall live."
A hunter wearing a weathered cowboy hat raised a hand. "What's so special about the latter half, anyway? Ain't a license the whole point?"
Silhouette gave a small, knowing smile. "You're partially correct. The latter stages offer more than a license—they're an opportunity to become stronger. Advanced aura applications, techniques beyond standard training. Hidden judges will grade you, part of the president's new initiative. You're the first to experience it."
His gaze swept the room. "But the true prize is the golden pass."
A murmur rippled through the crowd. Everyone knew the golden pass wasn't just a prize—it was a ticket to the highest echelons of hunter society, a gateway to unparalleled resources and missions.
Silhouette's imperceptible smile widened, his shadowy form radiating intrigue. "So, what will it be?"
The room buzzed with muted conversations, the weight of Silhouette's announcement lingering like a storm cloud. The golden pass was a symbol now, but it wouldn't remain that way for long. This was the president's vision—a future where the Association held an unshakable grip on the hunter world. Hunters who once operated independently would see the value in aligning with an organization offering power, prestige, and protection.
Silhouette's sharp tap of his cane cut through the murmur, drawing all eyes back to him. "Decide your own paths," he said, his tone casual but commanding. "I won't bother you more than necessary." His gaze swept over us, lingering just long enough to make each of us feel scrutinized. "With that, it's time for me to go. Until then…"
A swirl of shadows engulfed him, and with a pulse of aura, he vanished, leaving nothing but silence in his wake.
"Goddamn it!" Selena's outburst shattered the stillness. She flipped a table with a feral snarl, sending its contents clattering across the floor. "He just shows up and disappears, like always!" She stormed off toward the path for those continuing the exams, her footsteps echoing her fury.
I understood her frustration. Silhouette wasn't just her father—he was Silhouette, one of the Seven Extremes and the founder of the Black Guard. Known more as a shadowy myth than a man, his enigmatic presence loomed large over both the Association and the world at large.
Sarah approached me, her face hidden beneath her veil. "I guess this is it," she said.
"You're not continuing?" I asked, though I already knew her answer.
"No," she replied simply. "I've gained what I wanted here. Farewell." She paused, her gaze lingering on me. "And remember—you owe me one."
Straight to the point, as always. She turned and disappeared down the hall, leaving me with an unsettling sense that our paths had parted with finality.
I nearly jumped when I realized Wolf had sidled up behind me. I turned to face him, keeping my expression neutral despite the unease prickling at the back of my neck.
Wolf smiled in his usual carefree way, looking every bit the harmless kid. "I'm heading out too," he said, extending his hand for a handshake. "I'd like to keep going, but I don't think I'm cut out for it."
I clasped his hand, but the moment I did, he yanked me closer. The harmless gleam in his eyes vanished, replaced by something sharp and predatory.
"How's your wife doing?" he murmured, his voice low and dangerous.
My pulse quickened, but I kept my face calm. I tried tapping into his aura using Soul Link, hoping for a glimpse of his intentions, but my ability hit a solid wall.
Wolf's grin widened. "Cute trick," he said, as if he knew exactly what I'd tried. He let the words hang in the air before adding, "Join my Troupe."
A chill ran down my spine. The Undead Troupe.
Motherf—
"No," I said firmly, masking my unease. The offer was tempting, I wouldn't deny that. If the Troupe were fully formed, they could wipe out the Elsewhere Cult in one decisive blow. But they weren't there yet—they were still in their recruitment phase, not the force they aspired to be.
Wolf—or whoever he really was—chuckled. "What's the word? Ah~ fool your friends, fool your enemies… nah, who cares, right?"
His grip tightened, a subtle but unmistakable threat. The hunter world was merciless, where strength dictated survival. Backing down now would mark me as weak, and in this world, weakness meant death—or worse.
I activated the disguise attribute embedded in my aura, a remnant of my own hidden power, and began unraveling Wolf's façade.
Gradually, his dark hair lightened to a brown shade. His forgettable features sharpened, his frame shifting from that of a teenager to a young man in his early twenties.
"You look uglier without your glasses," I taunted, throwing in a name to drive my point home. "So, what's it gonna be… Loki?"
For a split second, his smirk faltered, surprise flickering across his face. It returned quickly, but I'd seen enough.
Loki O. Loki. The boss of the Undead Troupe.
I'd crafted him as a villain who thrived on theatrics, his initials—L.O.L.—a mocking testament to his chaotic nature. He was absurdly strong, his backstory tangled in layers of deception and tragedy.
"I have a job for you." I said plainly, realizing the perfect opportunity right in front of me.
Loki's hand shifted, dissolving into mist that slipped free from my grasp. "What job?" he asked, his tone light but his eyes sharp. "And what about payment? Just so you know, my people aren't cheap."
I grinned. "The payment? Information about your biological father's identity. You're curious, aren't you?" I leaned in slightly. "Now, ask me—what's the price of such information?"
Loki's smirk widened, but I caught the glint of intrigue in his eyes. This was a game, and he loved games.
"Alright," he said, his voice silky. "You have my attention. Let's hear it."
"How does a bet sound to you?" I asked, keeping my tone casual yet firm.
He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What are the stakes?"
"How about you decide," I replied, taking a coin from my pocket and spinning it between my fingers. "While I decide the game we play."
Loki chuckled, a low, almost predatory sound. "Hearing you sound so confident tells me the game will be rigged in your favor."
I grinned, feigning nonchalance. "That depends. Why? Do you play using luck? Or is this a skill issue?"
His eyes narrowed at the jab, but the amusement never left his face. "Fine," he said. "Let's play. If I win, you join my Troupe and tell me everything you know about… Silhouette."
I frowned. "I can't risk subordinating myself to you, but I am willing to wager my knowledge of Silhouette."
Loki tilted his head, studying me carefully. "And if you win?"
"If I win, I want you to kill someone for me," I said evenly.
Loki's smirk faltered for a moment before returning. "That's a tall order. Who's the target?"
"That's for me to reveal later," I said. I wasn't naive enough to think he'd agree to take on the Elsewhere Cult just with this gamble, but it was a start.
He considered my words, then nodded. "Alright, what's the game?"
I held up the coin. "Simple. A coin toss."
Loki's eyes sparkled with interest as he stepped closer. "Let me examine it first."
I handed the coin to him without hesitation. It wasn't an ordinary coin—it was an accessory, decorative rather than currency. It had a head and a tail on each side, but that didn't matter.
Loki scrutinized it, flipping it between his fingers and running his thumb along its edges. "Seems fair," he said finally. "I'll toss."
"Best of three," I added, to which he nodded.
Loki flipped the coin into the air, catching it deftly and slapping it onto the back of his hand. "Guess."
"Tails," I said without hesitation.
Loki lifted his hand, revealing the tails side. His frown deepened. "You got it right…"
I had used Soul Link, a weak connection that barely registered, to catch a glimpse of his intent. But Loki wasn't slow to catch on. The moment he realized what I was doing, he severed the link, cutting me off completely.
He flipped the coin again, catching it and slapping it onto his hand. "Guess."
"Heads," I said confidently.
"Wrong." Loki smirked as he revealed the tails side once more.
I stepped forward, snatching the coin from his hand before he could react. "My turn."
Tossing the coin into the air, I caught it and slapped it onto the back of my palm. "Guess," I said, keeping my tone neutral.
Loki's eyes narrowed as he studied me. "You do know I have very good eyesight."
"Guess," I repeated.
He smiled, clearly enjoying the game. "Tails."
I removed my hand, revealing a smiley face on the coin.
Loki's smirk faltered as he grabbed the coin, flipping it over to find a sad face on the other side. He burst into laughter, shaking his head. "How?!"
I didn't bother explaining. From the start, I had borrowed Selena's aura to alter the coin's appearance, shifting it into different images each time.
"You lost," I said, tucking the coin back into my pocket.
Loki's laughter subsided, replaced by a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Alright, then. Who do you want me to kill?"
I met his gaze, my voice steady and cold. "The Elsewhere Cult's Prophet."
Loki's smile widened, but this time, it wasn't one of amusement—it was something far more dangerous. "Now that's a challenge," he said. "Consider it done… but don't think for a second that I won't collect on my end of the deal someday."
"Fair enough," I replied. "Just deliver to your end of the bargain."
~026