Rain poured over the city, washing the dust off the broken signs and flickering lamps.
Inside a half-lit café at the corner of District 7, three hunters sat around a cracked wooden table.
Lawrence tapped his fingers impatiently.
William, a man with slicked-back hair and a grin that never looked honest, leaned forward.
William: "Seven and a half coins. That's what I'm offering."
Lawrence: "Seven and a half for something that might not even exist?"
William: "It exists. Half-burned painting, hidden in an old museum near the edge. Bring it to me before 12:00 PM."
Nyla: "You make it sound like we're treasure hunters."
William: "Aren't you?"
Lawrence: "We'll take it."
He stood before Nyla could argue.
At the counter, Liner sipped his coffee and smirked at their conversation.
Across from him, Casey entered, wearing an outfit far too formal for the rain.
Liner: "What's with the outfit? Trying to impress the storm?"
Casey: "At least I look like I belong here."
Liner: "You look like you're about to host a funeral."
Casey: "Maybe yours."
Liner chuckled quietly as Nyla and Lawrence left the café, rain swallowing their figures into the night.
The Old Museum
Rain hammered the streets like bullets as Lawrence and Nyla crossed narrow alleys.
A broken clock tower loomed in the distance.
Lawrence: "Aren't you coming? You'll get lost if you lag behind."
Nyla: "As if I want to see this dump."
Lawrence: "Think of the bright side—we're getting paid."
Nyla: "Paid? He's giving you seven and a half. I'm getting half."
Lawrence: "Oh. That's rough."
Nyla: "You're enjoying this."
Lawrence: "A little."
They reached the abandoned museum—its windows shattered, roof leaking rain into the halls.
Nyla: "Feels like a tomb."
Lawrence: "Used to work here, actually. Cleaning floors."
Nyla: "Did you steal anything?"
Lawrence: "Maybe a few cheap gems."
Nyla: "Figures."
Their flashlights cut through the dust.
Nyla: "So, what exactly are we looking for again?"
Lawrence: "A half-burned painting—depicting a woman stabbing a demon."
Nyla: "Sounds dramatic. He'll probably sell it at an auction."
Suddenly, a deep voice echoed from the shadows.
Voice: "A woman stabbing a demon? Sounds like the legend of Luminous and Gabriel."
They spun around.
A tall man stood by the cracked pillars, rain dripping from his golden hair. A massive weapon hung from his back like a slab of iron.
Nyla: "Who are you?"
Lorth: "Just a drifter. Name's Lorth."
Lawrence: "And what brings a drifter here?"
Lorth: "Curiosity… and maybe the urge to cut a few heads."
He drew his weapon—it reshaped itself, mechanical rings twisting into a blade that glowed faintly blue.
Lawrence (muttering): "That's no ordinary weapon…"
Lorth: "Correct. One of the Spirit Arms."
Nyla's eyes widened.
Nyla: "Yeah, I'm out."
She turned to run, but the weapon morphed into a bow. A glowing arrow shot out, chaining her leg.
In one motion, Lorth yanked the chain and swung the weapon into a colossal hammer, smashing her through five corridors in a storm of debris.
Lawrence aimed his rifle and fired—Lorth sidestepped, then blurred forward, kicking him hard across the hall.
Lorth: "Stay down, rat."
He turned back toward Nyla, raising his blade—
A shadow dropped from above. Liner slammed into him, forcing him backward.
Lorth: "Another one?"
Liner: "Don't underestimate who you don't see."
The fight exploded.
Metal clashed with rain and thunder as the Spirit Arm shifted forms—sword, shield, cannon—each impact shaking the weakened floors.
When Lorth's weapon turned massive again, the decayed surface beneath them cracked.
They crashed through two floors.
In midair, Nyla drew a sigil of paralysis, locking onto Lorth.
He hit the ground, immobilized.
Lorth: "Damn it—"
A gunshot tore the silence—Lawrence's bullet grazed Lorth's cheek.
Liner: "Negotiation time. You can talk, or you can bleed."
Lorth: "…Fine. I mistook you for someone else."
Liner: "Who?"
Lorth: "A man named Rhein Hart. I'm hunting him. Heard he was here."
Liner: "That's it?"
Lorth: "He destroyed something dear to me… a library called Remba."
Liner: "Never heard of it."
He lowered his dagger.
Liner: "Good luck finding him."
He walked away into the rain.
Lorth stood silent, confused by the hunter's calm retreat.
Nyla (from afar): "If you're serious about finding that man, you'll find me at The Night Flame Café. But bring money—we don't work for free."
Then she vanished into the mist, following Lawrence