Chapter 28: Chapter 28: When the Hunter Finds You
I woke up slow, but not broken. The kind of morning where the air smelled like leftover soup and someone else’s shampoo. Mara was still half asleep beside me, hair fanned across the pillow, mouth soft, one hand resting on my chest like she’d called dibs during the night. For a few seconds I forgot the world had sharp edges. Then the ceiling fan clicked, the city hummed beyond the window, and I remembered who I was—someone luckier than smart.
I eased out from under her arm, found my jeans, and tried not to wake her. She stirred once, murmured something about coffee, then went still again. My band pulsed once—quiet, content, smug."Yeah," I whispered. "I know."The system didn’t answer, but it didn’t have to.
By the time I hit the street, the fog had burned off and Arcadia was doing its morning impression of being normal. Street vendors shouted about dumplings, taxis screamed at each other in traffic, and a bus splashed through a puddle like it was auditioning for a disaster movie. My jacket still smelled faintly of her apartment—soap, ginger, and warmth—and I tried not to think about how stupidly good that felt.
A notification blinked in the corner of my vision:
[Optional Task: Report to Guild HQ for assessment within 24h.]
Perfect. Bureaucracy with extra steps.
I stared at the line until the word optional started to look like sarcasm.
"Optional means don’t do it, right?" I muttered.
The system pulsed once, patient.
[System Advisory: Ignoring official assessment requests may result in status anomalies, reward suspension, or narrative desync.]
"Desync," I said. "That’s new. What are we, in a story?"
[System Note: Storyline progression flag active — Arcadia Branch 2.6B. Attendance recommended for continuity.]
I rubbed my face. "So now I’m getting meta-quests. Great. Guess skipping this one means the plot just stops and everyone goes home."
[Confirmation: Probability of stagnation: 78%.]
"Fine. We can’t have the city hanging in a loading screen."
The task window faded, smug as hell.I turned toward Guild Row, half tempted to just skip it anyway and let the paperwork choke itself. The sun hit the glass towers and made everything look like money and lies. Hunters in clean armor walked in pairs, laughing too loud. People stared—not the good kind. More like is that the idiot who keeps walking into A-ranks alone?
I shoved my hands into my pockets and kept moving.
That’s when I felt it. You know that prickling between your shoulder blades, like someone lined up a scope on your back? Yeah. That. I glanced at the shop windows, pretending to study a rack of fake swords. A reflection caught movement in the crowd—tall, black coat, silver black hair. My stomach did a little oh no drum solo.
I kept walking. Turned at the next block. Took a detour past a steamed-bun stall. The reflection followed, smoother than smoke.
So much for subtle."Fine," I muttered. "You win."
I stopped in the middle of the crosswalk. The traffic light blinked red. Cars hissed to a stop. When I turned, she was already there.
Selene Veyra. Still in black combat gear that probably cost more than my rent for the year. Sunglasses she didn’t need. A faint smirk that looked custom-made to ruin concentration. Even in daylight, she had that aura—like she was the thunder the clouds had to ask permission from. People stepped around her without knowing why.
"Morning, rookie," she said, voice smooth enough to sell sins. "You always this hard to find?"
"I wasn’t hiding," I said. "Just practicing advanced avoidance."
Her smirk deepened. "Cute." She stepped closer, stopping just inside my personal space like she’d bought the rights to it. "You didn’t report in."
"I was busy not dying."
"I heard," she said. "Twice now. Two A-rank clears. You’re getting a reputation."
"Bad or good?"
"Depends who’s talking," she said. "Central calls you a headache. The other guilds call you an opportunity." Her gaze lingered, gray eyes catching the light behind her lenses. "And me? I call you trouble I can’t stop following."
She paused—just long enough for her tone to lose its flirt and find something heavier."Word is, not everyone watching you wears a badge. Some of the wrong kinds of people have started asking questions too. So when the old man calls you in... don’t joke your way through it. Listen."
That should’ve sounded like a warning. It didn’t. It sounded like a confession.
"I thought you were done stalking rookies," I said. "What happened to retirement?"
She pulled off her sunglasses, hooked them in her jacket pocket, and let me see those storm-gray eyes full force. "Retirement got boring. And then you showed up."
"Not my fault you have bad taste."
She smiled slow, like a knife learning to flirt. "You think it’s taste that keeps me showing up, Cross?"
"I’m hoping it’s not brain damage."
She chuckled—a real one this time—and the sound turned a few heads. "You’re still mouthy. I like that."
"Occupational hazard," I said. "If I shut up, people start monologuing."
"Some of them deserve it," she said, amusement flickering again.
I tilted my head. "You say old man like I’m supposed to know who that is. Should I be worried, or start shopping for retirement gifts?"
Her smile faded just a fraction. "You’ll see soon enough. He’s the one who decides whether people like you get a leash or a longer runway."
"Comforting," I said.
"Don’t be dramatic, Cross. Everything will make sense later."
She started walking again, coat catching a slant of late light, and I followed—because apparently that’s what I do when someone promises clarity and doesn’t give a deadline.
Selene stepped around me, close enough her shoulder brushed mine. "You’ve got half the city watching you," she said. "Central wants to see what makes you tick. The other guilds want to buy, borrow, or break it. And I—" She stopped, turned back to face me, eyes low and steady. "I don’t know what the hell it is, but there’s something about you that keeps pulling me back. I don’t fuck rookies. I don’t even talk to most. But you—" she looked me up and down—"you make me forget I had rules."
"Maybe it’s a medical condition," I offered. "I can be contagious."
"Yeah," she said. "You are."The corner of her mouth twitched. "Which is why you’re coming with me."
"To HQ? Or somewhere with fewer witnesses?"
She gave me a look that could melt steel. "Both, if you keep talking."
Her gloved hand caught my wrist, firm enough to remind me she could break it if she wanted.
She started walking, and I followed because saying no felt like the kind of choice that ended with me in a body bag or a different kind of exhaustion. The crowd parted without needing instructions. Hunters stared. Some smirked. One whistled until Selene’s gaze clipped him into silence.
We hit Guild Plaza. The Central tower loomed ahead, glass ribs gleaming, banners rippling in the wind. She didn’t slow down. "You made a lot of noise," she said. "Central’s pretending they’re calm about it, but you scared them."
"Good," I said. "Keeps the blood flowing."
"You’re an idiot," she said without heat. "But you’re my kind of idiot."
"I’d frame that compliment if it didn’t sound like a threat."
"Keep earning it," she said, pressing her badge to the door scanner. "They want to test you, see if you’re a fluke or a warning. I’m betting on warning."
"I appreciate the faith."
"Don’t," she said, glancing back once as the door hissed open. "I’m not doing this for you."
"Then why follow me?"
Her smirk softened—barely. "Because I tried to stay away.""And?"
"And I couldn’t."She stepped inside, leaving the door open behind her. "Come on, reckless rookie. Let’s see if you survive."
I looked at the reflection in the glass—messy hair, jacket collar still smelling like Mara, eyes that looked a little too awake—and sighed."Fine," I said to the city. "Round three."
Then I followed Selene into the tower, where trouble already knew my name.