Inside, the quiet settled differently now—not heavy, not tense. Just... ready.
Leon tapped his fingers lightly against his thermos, the rhythm casual, but his eyes stayed sharp. Watching. Waiting.
"So," he said after a beat. "Are we running? Fighting? Planning?"
Mirae raised an eyebrow. "He just got crowned National-Level. Can you give it a day before dragging him into more chaos?"
Leon shrugged, grinning without heat. "Chaos doesn't wait."
I leaned my head back against the seat, letting the hum of the road underneath fill the pause before answering. "We're not running."
Leon nodded once, approving. "Good."
Mirae tilted her head. "Then what's next? There's going to be fallout. Power vacuums. The other associations won't stay quiet. And don't even get me started on the international guilds sniffing around."
She wasn't wrong. The press conference had lit a fire, but the real storm was only beginning. Offers, threats, alliances, betrayals—all of it was coming.
Leon shifted in his seat, the playful glint in his eyes sharpening. "You realize what's coming, right?" he said. "It's not just the attention. It's the offers. The gold-plated contracts. The 'unlimited resources' promises. Everyone with a checkbook and a dream is about to start throwing themselves at you."
Mirae nodded, arms folding across her chest. "Some will come friendly. Some won't. Either way, they're going to want a piece of you. National-Level Hunters don't just exist without being tied to something. To someone."
Leon set his thermos down in the cupholder, leaning forward slightly. "Hell, even Black Valor's council was joking about it before I left to meet you. Saying maybe we should 'reclaim our roots' and offer you the highest seat in the guild."
I gave him a sidelong glance. "That desperate already?"
He snorted. "You're worth more than ten guilds put together right now. Desperation's just good business sense at this point."
Mirae cut in, her tone serious. "So. What's your move, Ryzen?"
The car hummed along the broken roadway, the city blurring past, but in that moment everything inside the cabin felt still—like the question itself was heavier than the road, the city, the whole damn world outside.
I let the silence breathe for a moment. Let them feel the weight of the answer before giving it.
"I'm not joining anything," I said, voice steady. Final. "Not a guild. Not a country. Not a council. None of it."
Leon blinked once, slow, then let out a short laugh under his breath. "Figured as much."
Mirae studied me carefully. "You sure? Some of these offers... you could name your price, Ryzen. You could live three lifetimes without lifting a finger again."
I turned my head toward them, meeting their eyes one after another. "If I wanted safety, comfort, or a crown, I'd have stayed in Black Valor."
Leon's expression shifted slightly—not hurt, but... remembering.
Leon looked at me for a long moment, then nodded, slow and firm. Not just agreeing—understanding.
Mirae leaned back in her seat, exhaling softly. "So you're serious. Freelance. Solo."
"I'm not solo," I corrected, a small smile ghosting at the edges of my mouth. "I'm just... unclaimed."
Leon grinned wide at that. "Unclaimed. Damn. I like that."
-
The car slowed as we turned off the main road, the smooth pavement giving way to a quieter, tree-lined street tucked away from the heart of the city.
Unlike the Weapon District, which still bore fresh scars from the battle, this part of City-A remained untouched. The air felt cleaner here, steadier—like the chaos hadn't reached it, and maybe never would. Residential buildings stood tall and pristine, with modern designs, quiet gardens, and secure perimeters. A small haven inside the larger storm.
Ahead, sitting at the end of a private drive, was Leon and Mirae's house.
Leon pulled smoothly into the driveway, the engine cutting off with a soft purr. The house loomed ahead—sleek lines, reinforced structure, but warm in a way only a lived-in home could be. Lights glowed softly through the wide windows, and the front garden was neat, maintained, untouched by the chaos that had shaken the rest of the city.
Mirae was already out of the car before the doors had fully unlocked, stretching her arms over her head with a soft groan. Leon followed at a slower pace, giving the street a quick, habitual scan before heading up the path.
I moved on instinct, already knowing the way.
The familiarity of it all pulled at something in my chest—something old, something steady.
Inside, the house welcomed us with its clean, open spaces and the subtle scent of something freshly brewed—coffee, probably, knowing Leon. No alarms, no tension. Just home.
I didn't wait for small talk.
Wordlessly, I made my way through the hall, passing the sunken living room and the open kitchen. Past the reinforced doors that led to the training wing.
Second floor, end of the hall.
My room.
The door opened with a muted creak.
Nothing had changed.
The bed was still made, the dark sheets neatly tucked. The old desk sat against the window, still clean except for a few stray papers Leon must have dumped there while I was gone. A few training weapons were mounted on the walls—practical, not decorative.
I stepped inside and set my bag down next to the bed, feeling the weight of everything—not just today, but the last few weeks—start to slip off my shoulders.
I sat down on the edge of the bed, letting my head tilt back, eyes closing briefly.