Next to the repaired majestic court of Camitis, whose entrance was guarded by statues of a man and a woman representing hunters, a slightly smaller building with the inscription Mors in Tenebris et Monstris hid. Although the organization operated on an international scale and de facto protected the entire world, the Camitis branch looked as impressive as the bookstore in the downtown square. But don't judge a book by its cover. It was still the hub of all interaction between hunters and the public. It was MITEM, funded by the taxpayers, established by the joint decision of the United Nations, that was responsible for anything the alter could release into our world. At the same time, it ensured the administrative side of the hunting profession. Every new awakened had to register with MITEM, even though they didn't plan to become a hunter and risk their neck for money, fame, or revenge. It was rare that some awakened ones saw an opportunity in trampling on the weaker “ordinary” people. Investigations no longer involved only DNA, fingerprints, or testimony. In the age of magic and cold steel, the difference between a ball of fire and a beam of light magic was another essential identifier of an offender.
After passing through an automated glass door with a sensor, visitors found themselves in the main hall. In the middle of the ground was a huge MITEM logo with the translation “Death to darkness and monsters” reinforcing the determination to fight the dangers of the alter. The clatter of the high heels of the receptionists scurrying between the stacks of files on the opposite side of the hall mingled with the heavy soles of hunters impatiently treading as they waited for their reward. Some exhausted individuals preferred the comfort of chairs regularly spaced at tables for up to five other people. At the front of one of the lines at the reception, Dea was standing in tow with Akally.
“What do you mean it can't be done? I filled everything in,” she raised her voice to the woman in the black suit.
A middle-aged blonde woman with curly hair barely reaching her shoulders, with a practised smile and a calm voice, that got less friendly, repeated her answer again: “We're sorry, but you don't meet the organization's requirements to create a permanent team.”
“What requirements? I'm a near-D-rank hunter, I've made over twenty expeditions into the alter, and I'm over eighteen years old,” she blurted out in one breath.
“Yes, your experience could make up the difference between your current rank and the rank needed to make the team. So is the fact that you are twenty-fo-”
Dea glared at the woman as she was about to say the number.
“…over eighteen,” the woman corrected with pursed lips and narrowed eyes, “but you need another member to make the team,” she turned her gaze to the red-haired boy.
“What? It can't be him? According to the bylaws, the responsibility falls on the head of the team when they accept a member.”
“These bylaws do not apply if the member in question is a minor,” she countered Dea's argument.
“According to section 16, in special cases, a minor who has the status of a hunter is considered an adult and is allowed to sign and approve documents instead of a legal representative,” the learned hunter supported her claim.
The receptionist sighed: “Does this seem like a special case to you? According to information, the mother is still alive, and the creation of a private team falls under normal administrative processes.”
“B-But…” the girl stuttered as she tried to think of a new argument.
“If you have nothing else, I can't do anything for you. I'm sorry,” the woman shook her head, not liking to disappoint the young couple.
Before Dea and the redhead turned to leave, the blonde with a practised smile for another hunter was grabbed by the shoulder by a woman over a decade younger with wavy milk chocolate hair: “She can't do more for you, but I could.”
“Miss Val-” she interrupted her subordinate by putting a finger to her lips.
“Come to me, we'll discuss this in private.”
Akally and her proud friend followed the woman into one of the rooms at the side of the hall. Immediately after opening the door, the young man remembered his first, not entirely voluntary, visit to MITEM. A metal table with two chairs on each side and a logo of a horned skull pierced by a sword and arrow in a white-painted room felt slightly gloomy. The employee motioned for them to sit down. With her hand, she pushed back a strand of light brown soft hair, that fell on her face, behind her ear. Akally got a chance to get a better look at her. Two shiny emeralds drew him to her with an enchanting look, her smooth maidenlike skin was decorated with full crimson lips. A black suit in the form of a jacket, with a coat of arms on the right side of the fully developed chest, and a black skirt above the knees, highlighting the firm round buttocks, could not hide her seductive figure. Although Dea was beautiful, she was no match for this brunette in the eyes of a seventeen-year-old boy.
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“I don't really like formal speech. Between us you can call me Sidy.”
The young man snapped. He quickly stood up and bowed: “I want to thank you once again for your help.”
The girl next to him flinched in fright. Sidy giggled: “So you still remember me after two months, that's good.”
Akally sat down: “Sidy helped me become a hunter. I didn't know it then, but she was the one who sent the hunters to save me.”
“If I've learned anything during the time I've been working here, it's that it's better to be prepared for the unlikely. In my position, I don't have the authority to send an entire team, but two hunters who are willing to listen to my recommendation are no problem.”
“It's not the only thing she's done for me. I guess that's why you got involved now.”
She clasped her hands and supported her head with them: “You're right. Your girlfriend tried, but the bylaws are clear. This is not a special case. It's unusual for a hunter to be part of a newly formed team after their first mission, but in a world where a lizard with a flaming tail burns your house down, it's not that unusual.”
A blushing Dea cut in on their conversation: “First of all, I'm not his girlfriend. This boy with milk still running down his chin has plenty of time before he starts dating. Second, I doubt you'd drag us here if you wanted to tell us what that lovely lady from before already did.”
“You're not only pretty but also smart,” she winked at her, “you're right. But it won't be easy. I pulled a few strings because of the redhead when he wanted to become a hunter without completing the basic course.''
The huntress scanned her companion from head to toe: “Yeah… it makes sense now. After all, you're probably not such an idiot, you're just uneducated.”
“Doesn't that mean the same thing by any chance?” he asked, his eyes darting from side to side as he processed her words in his head.
“That's not important. What's the plan?” Dea cut him off.
“F-ranked juvenile hunter with only one recorded expedition. There is no room for special treatment. Even worse, he had already been excused from participating in basic training. I don't know how close you two are, but you should know that Akally's mother has Cross's disease.”
Through the young man's stony neutral gaze, the girl saw a hint of sadness. He had long reconciled himself to the fate of his last loved one, but hearing those words again still struck him deeply somewhere inside.
“My mother wants me to finish my studies and have a happy life. When I came to her with the idea that I could be a hunter, I had to promise to finish my studies. I finished my second year a month and a half ago. Sidy arranged that I could go to a suitable alter at any time, but I have to finish the course later. Until then, I am and am not a hunter at the same time,” Akally explained dejectedly.
“These were special circumstances. MITEM is willing to make a concession here and there. Hunters with healing abilities are few and far between. Additionally, Akally volunteered. It was in everyone's interest to make him a hunter. However, the creation of private teams does not bring anything to MITEM. If you are not a member of MITEM, we cannot force you to go to the alter or defend civilians,” Sidy added to Akally’s explanation.
“We wouldn't let innocent people die, would we? Besides, the alter is the hunter's only way of profit.”
“That's where you're wrong, girl,” continued the beauty, “when you're faced with the decision to lay your neck down for someone when you have a vision of huge earnings in front of you, people often resort to selfishness. MITEM allows you to create teams to reduce mortality. Nothing more comes of it.”
“Isn't it in your best interest to keep Akally on the team to reduce the chance of losing your investment?” Dea suggested.
“If it were up to me, yes. But I have to convince my superiors to make an exception. I need leverage to show why he should get special treatment again,” she shrugged.
“We don't need a reason now,” the redhead chimed in again, “we will play the long game. Teams are formed to reduce mortality. So, I'll give them a reason to try to keep me alive.”
“Newbie, they don't decide here if you deserve to live,” Dea tried to encourage him. She looked at Sidy to nod in agreement, but the MITEM worker didn't raise an eyebrow. The girl realized that Akally was right. Why should MITEM care about increasing a rookie's chances of survival?
“You said you'd give them a reason so you could get privileges. I hope it's damn good because you won't get another chance,” the woman warned him in a deadly serious tone.
The young man placed his hand on Dea's shoulder: “It's right in front of you.”
Sidy looked at the pair of hunters blankly. An experienced huntress who doesn't trust others wants to start a team to take in a single rookie after his first trip to the alter. Why would she so much want an F-rank hunter on the team without the experience and knowledge that the others have? What's different about him? Despite the boy's proud smile, the girl next to him sadly rubbed her neck with her hand. The pensive brunette's eyes darted from side to side. She suddenly stopped and hid her face in her palms. Small giggles began to be heard, which grew into loud, almost hysterical laughter. She slammed her hand into the steel table top so hard that it left the mark of her tender fist. She looked at Dea like a hungry lion looks at an unsuspecting gazelle: “So tell me, how was your return from death?”