"I have an offer," the hooded man said, extending the pouch toward Kyorin once more.
Kyorin paused, his curiosity piqued but caution holding him back. "And what is it?" he asked, choosing his words carefully.
"Bring me an HF Howler Corer," the man replied.
"What's that?" Kyorin asked, his brow furrowing as he tried to recall if he'd ever heard of such a thing.
"It's a rare core you may get from killing a Tacet Discord of the Howler Group," the man replied plainly.
Kyorin turned away immediately, not wanting to take the risk. "Yeah, nope. I'm not confident in a fight."
He continued asking around for jobs, but the hooded man called after him, "You won't find a better offer than mine."
"I'm not looking to die," Kyorin shot back, aware of the odds stacked against him. Just then, his stomach growled loudly, betraying his hunger.
The man raised a brow, behind their hood. "Hungry?"
Kyorin felt heat rise to his cheeks but mumbled, "Y-Yeah."
"Then why not just ask?" the man said, clearly amused by Kyorin's predicament.
"There's no free food or free rides in this world, right?" Kyorin replied, glancing around.
He watched the patrollers with their synchronized steps, their presence a constant reminder of the tension in the air.
'Everything's on edge,' he thought, recalling the ongoing talk about the war amongst the citizens and the unease that had settled over the city.
Back at the wall infirmary—where he was first brought after arriving in Jinzhou—he'd seen soldiers galloping about like restless horses. At the time, he hadn't thought much of it, assuming the walls were always that busy.
Yet, as he recalled Yangyang's mention of a "war" back at the Gorges of Spirit—when they came across the unfinished statue of Jué—he couldn't help but connect the dots: the city was at war.
"I've heard we're at war. That means every ration is tracked, every supply accounted for," Kyorin stated, his voice steady. "I doubt anyone has sympathy to spare right now."
The hooded man's lips curled into a faint grin. 'Quite sharp,' he mused.
"How about this?" the man suggested, "I'll accompany you."
"Yeah, I'm really not up for getting kidnapped or anything," Kyorin replied, mumbling under his breath, "I think I'm starting to develop a bit of androphobia—a fear of men."
The man seemed a bit perplexed by his rambling but reassured him, "Don't worry, I won't lift a finger."
"How is this any different from the initial offer you gave me?" Kyorin asked, stunned by the absurdity. Wasn't this just a glorified way of saying: "You take the deadly job, and I get front-row seats."
"I won't be holding back my words," the man said at last, his tone final.
Kyorin paused, weighing the offer. He was still hesitant... but time was slipping away. With a quiet breath, he extended his hand. "Fine. Let's do this."
The man, appearing pleased, shook his hand, sealing the deal.
***
With the tests concluded, Rover and Yangyang headed to the nearby laboratory to retrieve her belongings from Dr. Mortefi—one of the staff at Jinzhou's Huaxu Academy and a leading figure in the Department of Safety.
As she stepped inside, she spotted a serious-looking man with vivid red hair and glasses seated in his chair, thoughtfully poring over a file with quiet intrigue.
His posture was composed and professional, the Tacet Mark on his chest gleaming faintly. Red crystalline scales trailed down his arm like a dragon's hide.
"I'm here for the Sundial," Rover announced.
Mortefi glanced up from a report still open on the desk, the name printed in bold across the top: "Lotus."
Without haste, Mortefi slid open a drawer, retrieved the Sundial, and swapped it with the report, tucking the file neatly where the device had been—perhaps for later study.
He held up the Sundial and said calmly, "Here's your Sundial. Intact as it was."
Yangyang examined it carefully, noting that it appeared unchanged. "Mr. Mortefi, can we have the test results?"
"Simply put, it's hollow." Mortefi adjusted his glasses and pointed to a specific section. "Here—try tapping on it. You'll notice it sounds different from a solid object."
"You mean…" Rover began, but Mortefi finished the thought without needing to hear the rest. "It's not just a timekeeping tool; it's an intricate mortise-and-tenon puzzle box."
He continued, "This Sundial is hollow, with an inner compartment. We've already scanned it—there's a small paper scroll inside."
Rover gave a small, inward nod.
"However," Mortefi added with a hint of frustration, "it's missing a crucial component." His expression tensed slightly, clearly bothered by the imperfection. "Once the missing part is in place, the internal wheels should rotate properly to unlock the mechanism."
Rover, impressed by the meticulousness, remarked, "Impressive analysis."
Maintaining his calm demeanor, Mortefi replied modestly, "Automata Mechanics isn't my area of expertise. I specialize in developing Tacetite Weapons, but the core principles between these fields share a common foundation."
"Still," Rover insisted, "you're quite the expert."
Mortefi waved the compliment off with a detachment of a seasoned professional. "There's someone far more knowledgeable in Automata Mechanics than I am."
"If this had been a Tacetite Weapon," he said absentmindedly, "I'd have solved it much faster." There was no boast in his tone—just a quiet nod of respect to the craftsmanship involved.
"Install the missing component, then rotate the wheels to the correct positions," he explained, "and you should be able to solve the puzzle and access the scroll."
He paused. "The problem is, I have no idea what the missing piece looks like."
"Maybe we can brute-force it," Rover joked, smiling.
Mortefi played along, nodding with mock seriousness. "That's always an option. If you don't mind the scroll being shredded by the Sundial's internal defense mechanism."
Rover grimly let out a chuckle, then asked, "Shall we go ask the real experts in this field?"
But Mortefi shook his head. "That won't be necessary. I can help you with this—I just need some time to think it over."
Just then, his Terminal beeped with an incoming call.
"One moment," he said, glancing at the caller ID. He looked slightly surprised before answering, "What is it?"
His expression shifted—softened—as he listened. "You certainly are well-informed… Yes, beautiful data indeed. Good taste."
Yangyang leaned toward Rover. "Rover… Mr. Mortefi's expression seems to have softened, don't you think?"
"Yeah," Rover whispered. "He looks like a purring cat now."
Yangyang smiled, her voice warm with gratitude. "We haven't even asked him to help us assemble it…"
"…and he's already started," Rover finished with a nod. "I guess Academy people just love solving puzzles."
Yangyang glanced at the doctor, thoughtful. "It looks like Mr. Mortefi needs some time to focus. Maybe we should give him space to concentrate?"
Rover agreed, and the two quietly decided to return later.
***
Near Jinzhou's wall, the guards handed the hooded man his Terminal. He glanced back at Kyorin, who stood absentmindedly staring up at the towering structure.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"He must be awed by the wall," one of the guards said with a grin.
"Yeah," another chimed in. "It's the product of decades of research—a real marvel."
"It's protected the city for countless cycles. As long as you're inside, you're safe," added a third with quite pride.
After a bit more lingering, Kyorin's eyes peeled away from the wall.
He turned to the soldiers and asked, "Any Howlers nearby?"
The nearest guard frowned, clearly puzzled. "What do you mean?"
Kyorin quickly shifted topics. "Does the city sell sheep meat? You know, since the gates are open to visitors."
The soldiers exchanged glances, now thinking he was a little strange. "Well… if it's in stock, then yeah."
Seemingly satisfied, Kyorin gave a small nod and walked off with the hooded man.
Curious about his earlier mumbling, the man asked, "Mind sharing your insights?"
"Pay for them," Kyorin replied flatly.
"Tch. Cheapskate," the hooded man muttered—but didn't press further. He didn't think the information was worth paying for anyway.
They exited through the city gates, and the hooded man spoke first. "Alright, begin the search."
Rather than venturing far, Kyorin started snooping around the perimeter of the outer wall. The hooded man raised a brow. "Why are you poking around the walls?"
"I'm searching for Tacet Discords," Kyorin replied casually. "Shouldn't any nearby threats have already been dealt with?" the man asked, slightly skeptical.
"With fewer soldiers on patrol—and such unwavering confidence in that wall—do you really think the city's forces feel obligated to eliminate every stray creature outside?" Kyorin replied, picking up on subtle tactical oversights.
The hooded man narrowed his eyes, thoughtful. 'Well… it seems he's more meticulous.'
After carefully circling around the walls—just as Kyorin had suspected—they came across a pair of baby Viridblaze Saurians.
Without hesitation, Kyorin slid out his hairpin, which extended into a full-length sword with a metallic whisper.
He unsheathed it with a steady breath, recalling his stances and movements. Then, with swift intent, he charged the Saurians head-on.
As for the hooded man, he simply stood back, and watched.
Fibonaccian spirals, mimicking the unfurling of a lotus, arced through the air as Kyorin swung his blade downward, catching the trio off guard. He had already dealt a fatal blow to one, despite its thick skeletal frame refusing to give way.
"Keh," he grit his teeth, forcing the strike through as he drove the blade forward, finally severing its head from its body. The TD's body crumbled producing a small core of sort.
Kyorin glanced at the hooded man, who gave a slight shake of his head. "That's an MF Core," he said flatly.
Kyorin clicked his tongue in annoyance. 'Tch... What is this? Some Gacha?'
But there was no time to dwell—a fireball streaked toward him.
He shifted quickly, sweeping his weapon to deflect the fireball as he stepped back, though a few loose strands of his hair sizzled in the heat. His hand trembled slightly from the impact, the lingering heat still pulsing along his fingers.
'Their attacks don't seem that fatal—as long as they can be avoided,' Kyorin noted, observing the arc of the fireball.
Its path followed a hyperbolic curve, much like a shot from a catapult, and there was a noticeable pause before each burst.
He considered closing the distance—but his eyes locked onto the agitated flick of the Tacet Discord's tail. It moved like a whip, lashing against the ground with a sharp, high-speed swat that cracked through the air.
'I need to get rid of that first,' he thought, tightening his grip on the blade.
Putting his legs to work, Kyorin circled the Saurian, closing in from behind. He slashed at the tail, severing it cleanly. The creature let out a shrill cry, writhing in pain.
'Alright, time to— !?'
A shiver ran down Kyorin's spine—every hair on his body standing on end… or rather, burning. A searing heat had begun to wrap around him, spreading fast.
He sidestepped instinctively, but his robe caught fire. Without hesitation, he tore it off before the flames could crawl further across his body.
Spinning around, Kyorin spotted the source: another Viridblaze Saurian—but this one was bigger.
'That's a huge one, wait—can Tacet Discords reproduce?' he wondered, before immediately dismissing the thought—stupid question. A fireball nearly engulfed his face, snapping him back to the moment.
Kyorin swung his sword to deflect it, but the sheer heat radiating from the blast made him groan in pain. 'Tch… my sword's going to melt.'
Crack—
A faint, unsettling sound split the air—his blade was fracturing. The once-stable form of the weapon shimmered, vibrating faintly as if the very atoms holding it together were beginning to fall apart.
"—!!?" Shock overtook Kyorin's face as his blade began to crumble in his hands. Panic surged through him like a flood.
The hooded man watched with a cold, unreadable gaze, thinking, 'Maybe I saw it wrong…'
Thump—Thump—
Yet, even as fear pressed in, Kyorin's legs moved on their own. He lunged forward—toward the baby Saurian—and struck.
"Hmm," the hooded man hummed, eyes narrowing.
In the next instant, the creature collapsed, and a yellow-and-black core popped free from its remains.
Kyorin snatched it up and hurled it toward the hooded man without a word. The man's hand moved on instinct, catching it reflexively. Once he caught it, the man examined the core and muttered, "This isn't an HF Core."
Then, spinning on his heel, Kyorin flung his breaking sword at the larger, enraged Saurian's attack. The blade shattered against a surging fireball, buying him only a second.
Without hesitation, Kyorin turned and ran—racing past the hooded man as the enraged Saurian roared and lunged after him.
Grrr—
A low, guttural sound rumbled through the air—then silence, sharp and sudden. In the next instant, the Saurian was shredded to pieces, its body collapsing into charred fragments.
A dark blur—like a shadow peeled from existence—had torn through the beast before merging seamlessly back into the hooded man's figure.
Calmly, the man approached the remains, crouched, and retrieved what he'd been after: a glowing HF Core.
He tucked it away into his Terminal without a word and then followed Kyorin, who had stopped just short of the city gates.
"Haah... Haah..."
Kyorin panted, chest rising and falling sharply. Relief mixed with frustration in his breathless expression.
'At that moment…' He recalled his heartbeat—the same rapid thrum he'd felt during the fight alongside Rover against that strange Tacet Discord. But unlike then, this time...
He glanced down at his hand and clenched it. "Still weak."
Though he'd managed to steady his erratic heartbeat, Kyorin still needed an enhancement to pull through—something that frustrated him. It was part of him, yes, but he still lacked full control over it.
That alone irritated him.
'I need to master myself—and my powers,' Kyorin resolved. 'I can't rely on what I don't understand, nor can control.'
He glanced back just as the hooded man approached, arriving with a calm, unhurried air. Despite Kyorin running with everything he had, the man had closed the distance without even seeming to try.
"This isn't the HF core," the man said, holding up the core Kyorin had tossed to him. "But…"
He reached into his coat and pulled out another one. It looked similar at first glance, but this one had more black mass clinging to the golden center. "This is the HF core—the one that came from the larger Saurian."
'He took down that big guy in such a short time?' Kyorin was initially stunned, but quickly shook it off. Considering the man's strength, it wasn't entirely unbelievable.
"Do you wish to trade?" the man asked.
Kyorin blinked, caught off guard. He eyed both cores, something clicking in his mind. Hesitantly, he asked, "Can I ask you something?"
The man replied calmly, "If you're not interested, we can call off the deal." He clearly didn't want to discuss why he had offered the trade.
Though he could reveal it, he was considering using the exchange as a way to back out—because what Kyorin had was a higher-grade core: an FF core.
'Now then,' he thought, looking at Kyorin. 'Knowledge or money—what will you choose?'
Yet as he met the young man's gaze, as clear as a summer sky, Kyorin's lips parted.
"How do I get strong?" Kyorin asked a different question.
The man seemed mildly surprised. "I thought you'd ask about the cores instead," he mumbled.
"Why do you wish to be strong?" the man asked, a note of genuine intrigue in his voice. Kyorin gave the same answer he'd once given the medic. "To be strong."
The man, unlike the medic, didn't press further—but he did asked out of formality, "No other purpose or desires attached to it?"
"None," Kyorin replied simply.
The man gave a faint smile, as if he'd just made up his mind about something.
Then, with a quiet seriousness, he said, "To become strong… you must have the resolve to chase the sun in the morning, and be ready to die by the evening."
"I'll remember that," Kyorin said with a polite bow. Then, straightening up, he added, "Can we trade now?"
"Don't you want to know the difference between the cores?" the hooded man asked.
Kyorin shook his head. "My goal is to earn money. Knowing the difference won't change that. Besides..."
He locked eyes with the man, his voice flat and laced with distrust. "If I ask, you might treat the answer like currency—raise the price or walk away entirely. What use is knowing if it risks the deal? I came for the reward, not a lecture."
The man let out a hearty laugh. "Haha! You're far more straightforward than I expected. Good." He handed over the pouch filled with Shell Credits.
Then, without pause, he passed a card to Kyorin. "Join my faction, budding Resonator."
Kyorin glanced down at the card. The words "Ghost Hounds" were printed on it. His brow lifted slightly. "Who exactly are you?"
"Just a wandering mercenary," the man replied, finally lowering his hood.
Snow-white hair spilled down his back like a cascade of winter, and piercing blue eyes shimmered with a silent intensity. A Tacet Mark stretched horizontally across his temples.
"I am Calcharo," he introduced himself. "Leader of the Ghost Hound Mercenaries."
Kyorin stood stunned. Questions buzzed in his mind—'Why me? What does he see in me?'—but he pushed them down.
"I-I'll consider your offer, Mercenary Calcharo," he said at last.
Calcharo nodded. Though Kyorin was still untried and bruised, Calcharo recognized in him a quiet determination—a tender shoot of resolve he was eager to watch flourish.
To be continued...