I stepped out of the bathroom and headed to the captain's car, sliding into the passenger seat of his sleek, two-seater red sports car.
'Is he a businessman like Sensei, or what?' I wondered. 'Probably bought this thing with a bank loan. That's the kind of guy he seems like.'
"You okay?" the captain asked as I settled in. "You looked pale back there."
"I'm fine. Just tired from the trip," I replied.
"Excited to meet your team and start work as an official Muma hunter?"
"Yeah," I said, keeping it short.
He probably didn't know Misa was my sister. Maybe he didn't even know she was a Muma hunter—let alone one of the strongest in the country. She'd always worked in the shadows. Even the mission to take down the MB gang, which she and Sensei pulled off, was so covert that Sensei got all the credit and the promotion.
We didn't talk for the rest of the drive. The silence felt strange, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I was somehow the cause. But the captain was odd too. I'd expected him to be a chatterbox, but he just drove, silent, his eyes fixed on the road, speeding like he was lost in deep thought.
Shira City was stunning—a modern metropolis that somehow clung to its heritage and natural beauty. Skyscrapers gleamed alongside ancient shrines, and lush greenery framed the streets.
After a while, the captain slowed down, turned into a parking lot, and pulled into what looked like a hotel's private garage. 'Are we staying in a hotel before we get our own apartments?' I wanted to ask but I just opened my mouth and closed it again, staying silent.
He screeched into a parking spot, the brakes echoing through the lot, then hopped out, grabbed my bag from the front trunk, and gestured for me to get out. He strode toward the elevator like a man on a mission.
'What's with this guy? Is he late for something?'
I followed, standing behind him as we waited for the elevator. I didn't speak, and honestly, I didn't want to stand too close.
"Surprised we're living in a five-star hotel?" the captain asked, breaking the silence.
"We're 'living' here?" I blurted, caught off guard.
"Yup, for the whole time we're working in Shira City. Breakfast, lunch, dinner—you can order food whenever you want. Indoor and outdoor pools, a gym, 24/7 laundry and cleaning services, all free. We're lucky to be assigned to this new team in the modern part of the city. It's called Kurozawa District, but I prefer calling it The New Town. You'll need to know every inch of it." He stepped into the elevator and hit the button for the seventh floor.
"We're Team Seven in Shira City," he continued. "which has seven districts," "They gave us rooms on the seventh floor. Coincidence or not, I don't know."
"Who's paying for all this?" I had to ask. "Isn't it expensive, especially if people abuse room service or other amenities?"
'Don't tell me Sensei owns this hotel too,' I thought.
"The NIC owns it, National Investment Corporation," the captain said. "Think we're undercover agents, They provide everything we need so we can focus on protecting the city and its people. This is nothing. What they 'don't' want is to raise our salaries. That's what we really deserve—our own mansions and personal staff."
Okay, that's a bit much. It's not like we have a choice but to hunt Muma anyway.
As we neared the seventh floor, he handed me my room key. "Go rest. You can explore the hotel later. We'll meet for dinner tonight to introduce you to the team. Training starts tonight, and work begins tomorrow."
The elevator doors opened, and he looked at me. I stared back, waiting for him to say something.
"What are you doing?" he said. "Grab your bag and go to your room. I've got things to handle."
I scratched my head, embarrassed. "Sorry." I grabbed my bag and hurried out.
The key was a card with the number 707. I followed the door numbers until I reached my room and swiped it open.
I wasn't prepared for this. The mansion we used to live in paled in comparison to this room. The moment I opened the door, it felt like stepping into another world—a refined dream, soft at the edges of my consciousness.
The room was almost uncomfortably spacious, making me feel small in its elegant expanse. The floor was covered in plush, light gray carpet, like the ash of incense my sister used to burn on winter nights. The ceiling soared high, lit by hidden fixtures that cast a gentle glow, like moonlight on still water.
To the right, a massive bed—bigger than my old room at Sensei's house—sat adorned with crisp white linens and pillows arranged with military precision yet soft as if they cradled the air itself. In front of it, a sleek black TV hung on the wall, with a gleaming glass table below holding an array of items I could barely identify, all meticulously arranged in a way that felt oddly calming.
I stepped forward slowly, afraid to disrupt the aesthetic balance. Gray curtains hid floor-to-ceiling windows. I pulled them back, and the city sparkled below, its lights winking like they were greeting me. From the seventh floor, everything felt distant, serene, as if the world's chaos had been left below.
The bathroom—no, it wasn't a bathroom. It was a sanctuary of purity. Smooth stone walls, a sink carved from a single slab of marble, and a mirror that lit up as I approached. A faint lavender scent filled the air, as if the room knew I was exhausted without me saying a word.
I wasn't the kid running through the mansion's halls anymore, but I also wasn't used to this kind of modern luxury. It was a strange feeling—nostalgia for the past, awe at the present, like standing on a bridge between two worlds that didn't belong to each other… and neither did I.
I stood there for a moment, taking it all in, and muttered to myself, "I'm back to living like nobility."
Before my sister got sick, she rarely came back to the mansion. Servants cooked, cleaned, and a driver took me to school. I was young then. But after her death, all that luxury vanished. I lived with Saya first, then with Sensei, who lived modestly, like he wasn't wealthy at all. That's why I never suspected a thing.
And now, I was back in luxury.
I took a shower, threw myself onto the bed, and opened the Echo app after connecting to the hotel's Wi-Fi.
I'd already hit a thousand followers. Unbelievable.
[Congrats on 1,000 followers!] Yumi, the train attendant , messaged me.
[Thanks to you,] I replied.
[What're you up to? Drawing?]
[No, just lying in my hotel room.]
[I just booked a room too. Staying here tonight, then heading to the capital tomorrow. Back to Arashima the day after.]
[That's a lot. Over nine hours of work a day?]
[They pay well, though. Hoping for a promotion to flight attendant. Most passengers get off in Arashima, but we have to continue to Shira since it's the last stop.]
[They should make a separate line.]
[Right? That'd be so much better. Anyway, rest up. Let's chat later.]
After talking with Yumi, I posted all the sketches I'd done on the train in one post. They all featured the same girl from my first drawing, maybe forming a story. Then I tossed my phone aside.
My mind started drifting to things I didn't want to think about, so I grabbed my tablet and started drawing. I couldn't sleep— Muma hunters can't sleep.
I drew the first psychic world I'd entered, still vivid in my memory. We'd trained in children's psychic worlds at first, I was thirteen, it was a terrifying amusement park filled with monsters. It was horrifying.
As I finished the sketch, a message notification popped up.
[7:00, come down to the restaurant. We'll be there. We're going for a walk afterward, so dress for it.]
'A walk? Seriously? Why do we even have to go on a walk? This captain's probably gonna be an even bigger pain in the ass than Sensei was back in my first year.'
---
I took the elevator down to the restaurant, which was as lavish as expected. Scanning the room, I spotted the captain waving from a distance, sitting with someone.
I walked over, nerves creeping in. Meeting new people in one day was exhausting for an introvert like me.
The guy with the captain was a bit taller than me, with broad shoulders and a sharp, chiseled jawline. His short, effortlessly neat hair and lightly tanned skin gave him the look of a soldier fresh off duty. He stood, offered a firm handshake, and said, "Hey, I'm Hayama Kotaro."
"Reiji Kurosaki," I muttered as I sat down, tense and hoping he wouldn't try to start a conversation with me.
"Hayama's older than you," the captain said. "Just turned eighteen. He's been a Muma hunter for a year in Arashima. He'll be deputy leader—my second-in-command when I'm not around. But don't call him captain. The girl won't join us for dinner. You'll meet her at training."
'The girl?' So the last team member's a girl. Why isn't she coming? Does she not want to eat with guys, or is something else going on?
"You trained under Takeshi Sensei, right?" Hayama asked.
"Yeah," I said.
"I heard a lot about him in Arashima," Hayama said. "How he took down an entire gang single-handedly."
'He fought with my sister. Why does no one mention that?' I wanted to scream it.
"Did you know Takeshi Sensei has a sister? You've heard of her, right? They call her the Queen of Predictions," the captain said to Hayama.
"Yeah, I've heard of her," Hayama replied.
"She fought with him. She played a bigger role," the captain added.
'No, she didn't. She was out of the country. It was my sister who did. Takeshi told me himself.'
Also, Saya hates being called the Queen of Predictions. She finds it cringeworthy. The nickname stuck after she predicted several earthquakes abroad and went there herself, stopping Muma in time to prevent worse disasters and greater losses. Since then, her word was law. No one doubted her predictions, thanks to her extraordinary spiritual energy control and senses.
And she's beautiful. I wished I was closer to her age—maybe I'd have a shot. Thanks to her, my taste in women skewed older.
"What's our first training, Captain?" Hayama asked. "Are we jumping into a fight tonight?"
"No missions tonight. I've read about your abilities, but I want to see what you can really do. We'll spar—me against you, and Kurosaki against Kirishima. We'll sort out the rest after that."