The door swung shut behind him with a soft thud. Jun stepped into the dim little house and called out in a voice that was almost casual, like he was used to this greeting and answer.
"I'm home."
Silence swallowed the words. No clatter of pots. No jangling keys. Not even the small, familiar footfall that said someone had been waiting.
He waited a heartbeat. The house smelled faintly of cold stew and the last of the day's smoke. Nothing moved.
Is she so mad at me that she won't even say anything? he wondered, forcing a grin that didn't reach his eyes.
"Jina, I'm home."
Again—nothing.
A cold little thread of worry tugged at his gut. He moved through the kitchen. Empty. The hearth cold. The plates stacked neatly, but untouched. He went to the storage chest, checked the little shelf where she kept her herbs and bandages. Bare.
He pushed open the bedroom door.
The mattress was still made. The little doll on the pillow faced the wall. The window was ajar. The only thing missing was Jina.
Jun's chest squeezed hard enough to make him choke. Where did she go? Did something happen? Th—
A metallic whisper—too close to be a breeze—cut the question short.
Something flashed from behind him: a blade, sharp and fast.
Instinct took over. Jun rolled, the steel humming past where his neck had been a heartbeat earlier. The blade sliced air, a silver scream in the quiet room.
Clang.
The black sword blossomed into his right hand without a word—no summon, no call—just the weight of cold iron in his grip. Power thrummed up his arm.
He turned, sword raised, the tip catching the candlelight.
A man stood in the doorway wrapped in a dark cloak. The hood hid most of his face, but his voice was high and theatrical, as if he were welcoming Jun to a private show.
"Your sister!"
Jun froze on the spot. The name hit him like ice. He forced his voice back down, steady, stabbing with each breath. "Who are you?"
The man's smile was a slow, blade-like thing. "Oh, come on. You're not in the place where you can ask me the questions. I'll ask the questions. And you'll answer."
Jun's voice came out tight and small, but hard. "Where is my sister?"
The man laughed—soft, amused. "She is fine."
Jun's jaw clenched. The doubt was coiling tight. "How am I supposed to believe you that she is fine? First show me my sister."
The man's tone shifted to mockery, amusement dripping from every word. "Oi, You're only D rank, aren't you? How dare you try to negotiate with me?"
Jun felt the world narrow. He had to buy time. He had to play along. If the answer to where Jina was lay beyond force, he needed to survive long enough to find that force.
The man's grin widened like a predator tasting blood. "Anyway, I'll take you to her. I can at least fulfill you last wish. After all—"
His smile split into something darker, venomous. "YOU TWO SIBLING WILL DIE TOGATHER, HAHAHA."
The laugh broke the room like a curse.
Without another word, the cloaked man turned and moved toward the door. Jun's muscles coiled. He followed—blade ready, heart pounding—not because he trusted the man's promise, but because he could not risk letting the stranger out of his sight for even a moment.
Their footsteps slipped into the night. The house—a place of warmth and small, fragile safety—shrunk behind them as the door closed with a soft, final click.
The tall doors of the Handol Hunters Guild creaked open, and the evening light spilled across the marble floor. Armand strode inside with the weight of authority, Aldric at his side. Behind them, the group of weary C– and D–rank hunters followed, their steps heavy after the long day.
As they crossed the main hall, Aldric adjusted his cloak and spoke in a low but urgent voice."Vice Guild Master, there is something I forgot to report because of the urgency."
Armand's sharp gaze flicked to him. "What is it?"
Aldric's tone dropped lower, cautious, as if the walls themselves might be listening.
"Yesterday, someone was asking questions about Lucian Jun. The man was from a noble family, so we didn't have any choice but to give the information."
Armand stopped in his tracks. His brows furrowed.
"Huh? That's strange. Why would someone from a noble family ask about a commoner? Isn't he the one who recently became a D–rank hunter?"
"Yes," Aldric replied immediately, his face grim. "That's exactly what looks suspicious to me. If Hunter Jun were a high–rank hunter, that would've been understandable. But not only is he a low–rank hunter… he's also just a commoner. So—"
"Investigate this matter."
The words from Armand cut like steel, his voice cold and decisive. His eyes gleamed with something between suspicion and concern.
Aldric gave a short, respectful nod. "Understood."
The guild hall, usually full of chatter, seemed quieter in that moment. The air hung heavy, as if the name Jun had already begun weaving threads of trouble into the guild's fate.
The path out of Handol narrowed as Jun and the cloaked man walked beneath the darkening sky. Villagers' lamps glowed like fireflies in the distance, then disappeared as the two figures reached the rocky fringe beyond the last houses. A swallowing quiet settled over the place where the earth met the woods.
At the cave mouth the cloaked man stopped, turning to Jun with a slow, theatrical bow. "Welcome," he said softly, as if the echo would carry his words deeper. Then he stepped inside.
Jun followed. The cave breathed cold air that smelled of damp stone. The torchlight from inside painted the passage in flickering orange, throwing the man's hooded silhouette long against the walls.
When they reached the chamber, Jun saw her at once—Jina, lying on the cold ground. She didn't appear wounded; no blood, no torn clothes—only unconscious, her small chest rising and falling shallowly. Seeing her like that hit Jun with a blind, white-hot fury.
His hands curled into fists. His head dropped, shadows crossing his face. His voice was low and hard. "Hey, who are you? Are you from that family who was behind my mother's death?"
The cloaked man shrugged, amusement wagging at the edge of his tone. "Oh, what a cold voice? What if I say yes? Are you gonna kill me or something?"
Jun's jaw tightened. "Yeah, it's depend on your answer."
The man's grin spread thin. "Come on, man. You shouldn't bluffing in front of a man who already know about your rank. You're Just a D rank hunter—what can you do to a C rank hunter?" His voice thickened with menace. "Don't be too arrogant because I'm behaving well with you. If you run your mouth again, I'll cut your tongue first."
A low chime sounded—silent to anyone else but crystal clear to Jun.
[URGENT QUEST.]
[KILL THE MAN IN FRONT OF YOU.]
[TIME LIMIT: 5 MINUTES.]
[QUEST FAILURE: DEATH.]
Jun's lips pulled into a small, dead smile. He answered the man with a voice as cold and flat as iron. "Is that so?" The system is saying me to kill him. But if I kill him how am I supposed to know which family is behind this? And if he already sent a massage to the family than it'll be a pain in the ass. I can't kill him immediately. I have five minutes. So I'll try to know which family is behind this within the time.
The cloaked man bristled, fingers tightening as he stepped forward to finish his taunt. "Didn't you hear me what I tol—"
He never finished. Jun moved.
The world narrowed—only motion and intent—then the air was gone between them. Jun's body blurred; purple mana streaked like lightning along his arms.
"Dagger shape!" he said.
The black sword obeyed and reformed in his right hand, collapsing into a cruel, compact dagger. Jun's arm sliced forward in a single, precise motion.
—SHHKK!—
The cloaked man's right arm was gone in a red spray. The sound was sharp and final.
He screamed—half fury, half shock—as blood geysered into the dim cave light. Jun followed with a savage kick. The man flew backward, skidding across the stone until he struck a wall and rolled in a heap.
Jun's eyes glowed faint purple, a sleeve of storm around them. He stood over the ruined cloak and spoke, voice low and threaded with lethal calm. "Now, tell me. Who's gonna cut who's tongue?"