The receptionist had the appearance of a porcelain doll carved into the shape of a young woman, dressed in a tailored uniform of muted green and silver trim. Her face bore a permanent, professional smile that never wavered, eyes closed as if serenity was part of her role.
Her dark hair curled in a spiraling cascade behind her shoulders, and the desk she stood behind bore the crest of the Solvish Chapter—a branching path carved into blackened wood, framed with sigil-engraved iron.
A name tag that spelled 'Rian' was embedded on the left side of her chest.
She was probably the second individual in this bastion that Kivas could deem a human with how devoid she was of bizarre looking trait. The first one was Lyenar, the priestess that Charishe was having a beef with.
"Welcome to the Solvish Chapter of the Void Hunter Guild," she chimed. "How may I assist you today?"
Kivas stepped forward with a bright spark in her eyes. "Hi. I have a list."
The receptionist nodded without hesitation. "I am prepared."
"How long has this place been operating?"
"Seventy-three years, eight months, and six cycles."
"Is the Guild open all the time?"
"Yes. Shifts rotate based on distortion stability and priority reports. There is always a representative available."
"What kind of ranks are there? Like, is there a grading system?"
"Void Hunters are ranked from G, the lowest, to S, the highest," the receptionist explained smoothly. "Each grade reflects cumulative trust, capability, and contribution to the Association. Subgrades exist in transitionary tiers."
Classic, ascending letters for the grading system, was what Kivas thought.
"If I'm a Void Hunter, can I get demoted if I mess up a mission?"
"Only if your actions directly compromise bastion safety or result in proven misconduct."
"Do you assign partners?"
"No. Partners, teams, and squads are freely formed. However, long-term contracts may be recommended for large-scale operations."
Kivas leaned on the counter with both elbows. "Is there a special badge? Like a guild license thing?"
The receptionist's smile widened. "Indeed."
"Is it shiny?"
"Yes."
"And cool-looking?"
"That depends on your aesthetic sensibilities."
"I love this place already." Kivas face beamed with reflection. "It is as I remembered how an Adventurer Guild works in a fantasy world I digested."
The receptionist didn't miss a beat. "I'm delighted to hear that."
Samael stood with her arms crossed behind Kivas, her expression unreadable but her eyes glinting faintly. Charishe, lounging against the side of the desk with one foot kicked back behind her ankle, simply looked entertained.
After a few more rapid-fire questions from Kivas regarding quest distribution frequency, loot requisition channels, regional interconnectivity, and soul-bound authorization layers, the receptionist gave a quiet tilt of her head, hands still folded neatly.
"I must say," she offered with a melodic tone, "you are delightfully inquisitive. With such enthusiasm and preparedness, I believe you'd make an excellent addition to our roster!"
Then, without warning, she opened her eyes.
Pale silver irises met Kivas's and then slowly flicked to Samael. Her smile never dimmed.
"You both carry a presence of power," she said. "Our Chapter would benefit greatly from your registration."
Samael's gaze hardened in an instant.
The air turned sharper. Her eyes became slits of concentric crimson, like focused lenses burning a hole into the receptionist's soul.
The receptionist acknowledged the intimidation, then calmly closed her eyes again. "Of course, this is merely a suggestion. The Solvish Chapter holds no authority over personal agency."
Her tone returned to the same airy professionalism as before.
Kivas glanced sideways. "What's a 'Chapter' exactly? Is that just your name for a location?"
The receptionist brightened. "A Chapter refers to the physical guild facility and its internal structure, operations, and local jurisdiction. All Chapters are networked via their governing Association. In this case, the Solvish Chapter is under the Karasu Association."
"Karasu?" Kivas tilted her head.
Karasu means Crow in a certain language Kivas knew in her former life on Earth.
The receptionist merely nodded her head.
"Yes. Known for its extensive information networks and rapid data relay systems. Unlike martial-focused Associations, Karasu emphasizes observation, communication, and broad-scope knowledge sharing.
"Individuals tied to this Chapter can report phenomena, anomalies, or emergent patterns. Should the information prove useful, compensation will be provided accordingly."
Kivas's eyes sparkled. "So if I find something weird or stab something rare, I can just report and get paid?"
"Precisely."
Kivas turned to Samael with a grin.
Samael raised an eyebrow but didn't argue, smiling in silence.
"So… how do we register?" Kivas asked.
"You simply purchase a Void Hunter Tag," the receptionist said, reaching beneath the counter. "Once you possess and equip the Tag with your soul, your presence will be recorded spiritually through the Chapter's anchor. No paperwork necessary."
Kivas paused. "That's it?"
"That is it."
"No writing down names, birth dates, soul affinities? No retina scan, blood sample, appraisal crystal, magical oath?"
The receptionist folded her hands again. "We respect the privacy of our hunters. Unless you become a threat to humanity, or you are involved in an incident report, your information remains unprocessed—
"Our job is not surveillance. It is facilitation."
Charishe gave a short chuckle. "That's why the mortality rate's high. They don't babysit you, or a high enough bar to deter high-ego dumbassess from trying to make a living and dying."
"We do not," the receptionist agreed.
Kivas looked over her shoulder toward Samael. "But, I don't have money."
"Money doesn't exist!" Charishe said before Samael could. Her smug teasing face was met with a rather scary glare from Samael, so she wryly backed down her enthusiasm. "Not here, at least not in the way you're thinking."
Kivas frowned. "Then how do people trade?"
"The good ol' barter!" Charishe answered enthusiastically, accidentally cutting off Samael again.
Samael ignored that, and proceeded to spoke with the quiet cadence of old memory. "Currency—defined as a shared belief in value—is metaphysically dangerous in Fathomi. When too many souls agree upon a concept and funnel intent into its stability, it births something. A god. Or something close to it."
Kivas blinked. "You're saying... the economy creates gods?"
"It has," Samael confirmed. "Once. And we killed it."
The receptionist interjected gently. "Which is why Curio items are the most commonly accepted trading medium. They are native to Fathomi, born from its unstable will, and thus safe to exchange without invoking external metaphysics. Flexible, inspectable, and dangerous only in intent."
Kivas stepped back and dug into her inventory, pulling two items: the Flask of Imbued Equilibrium and the unused Staring Pearl. She placed them on the counter.
"Both are unused. Still soul-attuned to me, but not activated."
The receptionist examined each one with an expert motion, holding her hand just above them. Glyphs shimmered beneath her palm, pulling faint threads of essence that shimmered with item-tier resonance.
"Both are common-tier but functionally valuable," she said. "We accept these in exchange."
She reached under the counter and retrieved two tags.
Each was shaped like a narrow black hexagon, smooth and cold, embedded with a floating core of shifting runes. The runes pulsed softly. A faint holographic trail curled behind each as the tags were lifted into the light.
At the bottom, a small silver letter "G" gleamed beneath the surface.
"These are your initial Void Hunter Tags. Grade G," the receptionist explained. "The moment you equip it to your soul, this Tag is your identifier, your key, and your pass. Keep it close. Lose it and you'll need to confirm your soulprint at the local forge node and back to the guild."
Kivas accepted hers with wide eyes. "It looks awesome."
"Grades can be promoted through consistent activity, verified accomplishments, or providing value to the Association," the receptionist explained, "Higher ranks unlock better services, higher-risk missions, and access to more restricted intelligence about Fathomi and the wider state of the world."
Samael held hers without comment, tucking it away beneath the folds of her outfit.
After equipping the Void Hunter Tag, Kivas felt a foreign tug on her chest. It dissipated quickly, but lingered nonetheless.
Kivas turned it over in her hand. "So I'm officially a hunter now?"
"Welcome to the Void Hunter Association, under the Solvish Chapter," the receptionist said. "We expect a great contribution to your addition in our fight toward a greater humanity."