"Please, take a seat."
The guild master's voice was calm yet commanding, his hand flicking in a subtle gesture toward the four chairs arranged neatly at the center of his office.
I obeyed, but as soon as I sat, a chill ran up my spine—the metal legs of the chair biting cold against my skin. It wasn't much, just a fleeting shiver, but it lingered long enough to rattle my nerves. For a moment, I was back in another life, sitting down after lunch to the frozen embrace of an office chair beneath the hum of an air conditioner. That sharp, sterile cold.
The memory slipped away, and I forced myself back into the present. My eyes wandered across the room, tracing every detail, buying myself time. I had no intention of staying longer than I had to. Just permission, that's all I needed. Then I'd leave.
Sheena's waiting, after all.
The office was much as I remembered. A wide desk stood proud before a towering window, its glass paneled with fine golden latticework. Sunlight streamed through it, splitting into scattered rays that painted the floor and ceiling in warm gold. The effect was almost sacred—like sitting in the hall of a temple rather than the chamber of an old man weighed down by parchment.
Stacks of papers and ink-stained quills sprawled across the guild master's desk, ordered chaos captured in wood and wax. Two towering bookshelves framed the space, their spines a riot of color and fading letters. I squinted, trying to make out the text, but the elaborate script danced and twisted in the light, mocking me with unreadable beauty.
The air itself smelled of paper and ink, with a faint undercurrent of melted candle wax. It clung to my lungs, dry and heavy, as though centuries of work had soaked into the very walls. A room for decisions, not dreams.
"So, sir, I—"
The words barely left my lips before the guild master lifted his hand. Silence. His eyes never rose, only the rustle of papers shifting beneath his fingers.
Frustrated, I glanced to my right. Ellen.
Until now, I had avoided looking directly at her, wary of distraction. But now that I allowed myself a full glance, I froze.
Her hair caught me first. Silken black, pulled into a neat ponytail that shimmered like polished obsidian. But beneath that darkness were streaks—no, flames—of crimson red, glinting like embers under the golden light. It didn't seem natural. Too vivid. Too perfect. As though some god had painted it strand by strand.
Extensions? No… this world knew no such thing. It was real.
She shifted in her seat, fingers fiddling with her collar, unaware of the trap she'd set for my senses.
What would I give to smell her hair? To feel it slip through my fingers as I gently stroked her head…
I swallowed. My tastes had always been particular. While most men lusted after curves and skin, my eyes lingered elsewhere. Hair—beautiful, untamed, or styled with care—was my weakness. My obsession.
And Ellen's was… exquisite.
Bonk.
"Eh—" I yelped, rubbing my head where something hard had struck me. The guild master stood with a rolled-up sheet of parchment, expression somewhere between annoyance and amusement.
"Ahem." His voice was dry, mocking. "While I can admit the girl is easy on the eyes, if you keep staring like that, you might just devour her whole."
Heat rushed to my face. Shame burned hotter than the golden sunlight pooling at my feet. I averted my gaze instantly, though from the corner of my eye I caught Ellen's cheeks flush as well.
"Now then," the guild master continued, slumping back into his chair with a long stretch, "I knew why you'd come eventually… but not this early." His words trailed lazily, but his gaze snapped back to me, sharp as a hawk's.
"Here's the deal. You'll form a party with Ellen. She'll be your guardian… and my informant." His eyes flickered with something unreadable as he said it. "You see, those with Monster Loyalty… they're rare. Too rare. Most don't survive long enough to be studied, let alone form bonds. Consider yourself… my research."
His words hit harder than expected. Not because they were complicated, but because of what they meant. I was an experiment.
I leaned back in silence, chewing on the bitter thought. Across from me, Ellen seemed equally stunned, though her knitted brows carried curiosity rather than despair. Somehow, that made her even cuter.
The guild master's glare pulled me from my spiral. His silence was a weight, pressing me down until I finally nodded. The tension eased instantly, his lips curling into a faint grin.
"Good. Now, sign here."
He produced two sheets of parchment, their edges still curled from having been rolled. He flattened them on the desk, revealing the application form:
Party Forming Application
Names:
Alias (if any):
Applicable Position:
Rank:
Party Name:
Signature: _______ Proxy Signature: _______
"I'll act as your proxy. Just fill in the details—"
"Excuse me!"
Ellen's voice broke the air like glass. The guild master froze mid-sentence, his head turning with an expression equal parts surprise and patience.
She shifted in her chair, nervous, but determined. "I—I'm sorry to interrupt. But I have something to say. Or… ask."
The pause stretched. Her fingers twisted together, and then—
"It's about my sister." She inhaled sharply, eyes flicking to me, then back to the guild master. "Rochelle. She's an A-ranked adventurer… and my party member. Could she join us as well?"
The silence was heavy. For a heartbeat, the only sound was the scratching of parchment against wood. Then, the guild master's stern face softened.
"Sure," he said simply, his tone warm in a way I hadn't expected. "As long as you do your job, you're free to do whatever you want."
Relief lit up Ellen's eyes, her shoulders easing.
"Then let's get this done," I murmured, though anticipation stirred in my chest.
Because something told me this party… would change everything.