Liam and Menchi walked back through East Town together, carefully avoiding routes that passed the slaughterhouse or fish markets.
No concentrated death zones, Liam reminded himself. That's the rule. Stick to it.
By the time they'd crossed town, he'd finished the entire plate of green-seasoned stir-fried pork. His physical stamina had recovered completely—not just "rested," but peak condition, like he'd slept for eight hours and woken up refreshed.
Menchi's ability combined with her cooking skills, he thought. That's genuinely overpowered. I need to keep her around.
As they passed through the town center, Menchi elbowed him lightly.
"Yeah, I see them too," Liam said, glancing at several men in dark suits questioning passersby.
More than ten days ago, he'd completely withdrawn his bird surveillance from Babimyna's team. Since then, he'd had no direct intel on their movements. But about four days ago, Kakin personnel had started appearing in East Town—"subtly" asking questions, showing photos, searching.
Looking for the missing infant, Liam guessed. The "little prince" whose body was never found.
Judging by their visible frustration, they hadn't made much progress.
Good news for me. Bad news for them.
Ochima's team seemed equally clueless. Over the past few days, Liam had spotted the amateur Hunters Slohe had hired—spreading out through East and West Towns, asking locals about rumors, legends, anything that might provide leads.
They're looking for the tomb, Liam knew from his crow surveillance of Shizuku. The ancient Kakin king's tomb. The one supposedly buried on this island when it teleported here thirty years ago.
What are they going to do if they find it? Turn it into a tourist attraction? Museum exhibit? Seems like a waste of resources.
Liam and Menchi soon met up with Ginta, and the three of them headed toward the building where Slohe—Ochima's official representative—was currently stationed.
On the way, Liam asked, "Ginta, you're not participating?"
"I'll pass," Ginta said. "My assignment was to handle the poachers. That's complete. If Ochima wants to hire me again, they'd need to submit a request through the Hunter Association, get it reviewed by the proper department, have it forwarded to me through official channels..." He shook his head. "Too much bureaucracy. Takes too long."
Menchi pointed at herself and Liam. "What about us? We're professional Hunters too. Don't we need to go through the same process?"
"My fees are high," Ginta said simply. "You two can accept civilian-level compensation. If you're fine with lower pay, you can skip the paperwork."
"Oh!" Menchi's eyes lit up. "I mean, I feel a little undervalued, but this is for experience anyway! Lower pay is fine!"
Liam asked, "Is it only official government jobs that require all this red tape? What about private contracts? If the transaction amount is small, does the Association really have time to review every single one? I can't imagine all the members sitting around waiting for bureaucratic approval before taking work."
Ginta glanced at him, nodded. "You're right. Private contracts are much more flexible. But—" He paused. "—the compensation for government assignments isn't just about money."
Menchi tilted her head. "What else is there besides money?"
Liam patted her shoulder patronizingly. "Oh, little sister. So young. So naive."
"I'm twenty!" Menchi snapped.
"Getting official work is about connections," Liam continued, ignoring her. "Networking with government agencies. Proving yourself to people with power. Today you're impressing some mid-level bureaucrat. Tomorrow, maybe a king or president hires you as a national advisor. Lifetime salary. Pension. Benefits."
He paused for effect. "If I remember right, Botobai—the Dragon Zodiac, supposedly the closest in strength to Chairman Netero—literally works as a government employee for one of the V5 nations."
"Really?!" Menchi's jaw dropped.
"That's correct," Ginta confirmed.
Menchi pumped her fist. "Then this is definitely worth it!"
Ginta continued, "Slohe's people heard about the poacher incident. They know professional Hunters were involved. This recruitment drive is probably aimed at you, Menchi."
"Don't count me out, old man." Liam pulled out his Hunter License. "I'm a professional too."
"We're here," Ginta said, leading them into the building.
The Recruitment Office
Slohe—the balding man Liam had observed from a distance weeks ago—didn't seem surprised that Ginta wasn't participating. The budget for hiring a Zodiac member through official channels versus private contract was... significant. Understandable that Ginta wouldn't take a pay cut.
"So," Slohe said, smiling at Menchi and Liam. "Five days of work. Base compensation: 2 million Jenny, whether you find anything or not. If you discover something relevant, the pay doubles. If your discovery is confirmed as significant—" His smile widened. "—10 million Jenny each."
He slid contracts across the desk. "Sign if you agree to the terms."
"I have a question," Menchi said, picking up the pen. "But they're not important enough to argue about."
She signed with a flourish—practiced, elegant, the signature of someone who'd been famous since age twelve.
Across the room, the five amateur Hunters who'd been working with Shizuku for the past two weeks stared at Menchi in shock.
Same contract. Same terms. Same base pay.
But she just walked in!
We've been working for half a month!
Dago, their leader, felt a surge of resentment. Is it just the license? That's all it takes?
He glanced at Shizuku, who was sitting quietly, expression blank as always.
Over the past two weeks, all five of them had realized something: this quiet girl with glasses was probably the strongest person in their group. Excluding Kanzai, who was in a different league entirely.
She was good. While they'd been struggling—exhausted from surveillance, dodging Blanchett Company security, occasionally getting chased by wildlife when their guard was down—Shizuku had remained completely unfazed. Like she was on vacation.
But now, watching this blatant pay disparity, she showed zero reaction.
She doesn't even care, Dago thought bitterly. Or she's truly that oblivious.
Before anyone could voice their complaints, a small voice interrupted.
"Can I ask a favor?"
The small boy—who'd somehow produced a Hunter License from nowhere—walked up to Shizuku, holding his contract and pen.
"What favor?" Kanzai, who'd been lounging in a corner, perked up with interest.
Liam pointed at the dense block of legal text on the contract. "I can't read this. Could you read it to me?"
Kanzai snorted. "That's easy. Don't bother reading it. Just sign."
Liam looked at him. "You're Kanzai, or Tiger, right? One of the Twelve Zodiacs?"
He glanced back at Ginta. "Are Zodiacs on sale or something? I've met two in a row now. And aren't you guys, like, elite? Why are you taking jobs like this?"
Ginta, caught in the crossfire, said nothing.
Menchi called from across the room. "Am I illiterate?! Why didn't you ask me to read it?!"
"Did you read your contract carefully?" Ginta asked dryly.
"What's wrong with the Zodiacs? Don't Zodiacs need to make money to support their families?" Kanzai seemed to be quite angry. He glared at Liam. "You think I'm like those 'Temp Hunters'? Those guys who pick and choose assigned tasks? I think you want to find trouble, right?"His aura spiked.
The effect was immediate.
Slohe felt the temperature drop and the air grow heavy. Instinctive fear.
Dago and the other amateur Hunters went pale, sweat beading on their foreheads. They could see Kanzai's aura now—massive, overwhelming, terrifying.
This is a Zodiac's power? Dago thought, trembling. This is insane.
Shizuku, studying the contract Liam had handed her, didn't seem to notice anything unusual.
Liam, standing directly in Kanzai's aura pressure, remained completely calm.
"You signed a contract like this before, right?" he asked Shizuku, ignoring Kanzai entirely.
"Yes," Shizuku said.
Liam waited.
Shizuku said nothing else.
Does "yes" mean "yes, but I forgot the details"? Or "yes, I definitely signed one"? Or "yes, but I don't care"?
I really need to crack open this girl's skull and see how her brain works, Liam thought. For science.