“Indeed, destiny is set at birth,” the older man agreed, crossing his arms, waiting for the tall boy to hurry and get lost, so they could move on to more important matters.

The door of the guild opened and closed as someone shuffled in.

The three people at the desk turned to see who had just entered. Walking into the room while massaging his head as if he were experiencing a headache was a man with dark stubble wearing plain leather armor. He grabbed food off the platter sitting on the table and shoved it in his mouth, but soon looked like he regretted it as he made barfing sounds.

“Please mister Mas, have some decorum. Hunter Vilda is here visiting our humble branch…” the older man said to the man he called Mas, who was about to be sick all over the nice wooden floors.

Wiping his mouth, Mas looked up at Vilda in surprise and was about to straighten up when he saw Red standing next to her.

“Whoa! Brawling champion, you’re here!” Mas nearly shouted in shock.

“Please, mister Mas, some decorum would be much appreciated…” pleaded the older man, who was apparently used to this Hunter’s antics and was trying his best to quell those quirks in order to look good in front of Vilda.

But to no avail, Mas was taken in by the sight of Red just like how he was when he found Red sitting on the street eating from a dirty burlap bag.

Mas had woken up that morning with a splitting headache and had been ready to be sick at a moment’s notice, but it seemed to all fade away at the sight of the brawling champion. He would never forget what he saw during those brawls for as long as he lived.

Everyone in attendance that night wouldn’t.

It wasn’t everyday that those people actually saw legends unfold before their very eyes. The only thing close to what they saw last night could only be found in stories, but after so long, people became jaded at the idea of these so-called myths. But for that fraction of their lives, they were part of a genuine story, part of a legend.

Mas moved hastily across the room to stand directly in front of Red. grabbing Red’s hand and shook it with appreciation.

He started to speak spastically, “I can’t believe it. I didn’t think I actually met you last night, thinking it was a dream, but you’re actually here! I can’t wait to tell my wife about this.”

“Please, Mister Mas. We have a visitor,” the older man begged, not giving up on trying to calm the Hunter.

Mas looked to his right to find Vilda waiting patiently to be properly introduced.

Mas didn’t give the older man a chance to make introductions as he went straight for her hand too, shaking it more mannerly than he did Red's, and said with respect and a smile, “Oh, miss Vilda, what brings such an esteemed Hunter to this wretched part of town?”

But before Vilda could answer, Mas interrupted her making the older man shake his head behind them, “You’re here to take the champ to the higher branch?” Mas thought out loud.

“The champ?” asked Vilda, who was beginning to feel overwhelmed by Mas’ personality. She tried to keep her composure as best she could at all times, but she was beginning to become stressed.

“Wait, before you do,” Mas said, “I have to do something.”

Before anyone could get another word in edge wise, Mas left the room and out the door without closing it.

“That Mister Mas…” the older man grunted in annoyance, “If I don’t get to leave this place and away from these ruffians, I don’t know what I’ll do…”

“He seemed lively…” Vilda commented, a bit shaken.

The older man looked over to Red who was still standing there and spoke, “Hey kid, are you going to stand there all day? We’re running a business here.”

Red knew that was his cue to leave. He didn’t look at anyone as he expressed a farewell, “Nice to meet you.”

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

Red headed for the open door, a portal to free him away from his anxiety and embarrassment of meeting new people and having the inability to read and write so barren and exposed.

The young man made it to the door, but couldn’t get out since a man who looked like he was in the middle of work, sweating under his bandanna as he was, stood just outside the door frame with an inquisitive look.

“See, didn’t I tell you?” Mas, who was just behind the sweating man, beamed.

“Well, I’ll be…” the sweating man said in awe, “It really is him.”

Red couldn’t move past the two men blocking the door frame, and he was in a vulnerable state of mind where he couldn’t raise any protest about the matter.

“Mora! Mora! Get out here, it’s really him!” The sweating man yelled toward a building's window.

A woman wearing a similar bandanna to the sweaty man peered out the window of an adjacent three-story building to see who was calling her name. As soon as she saw Red, her eyes lit up, and she shouted to a floor above her, “Hey Granu, I’m going over to the Hunter’s Guild. Take over for me, will ya?”

“What? What on the goddess' green fields are you yapping about?” A voice replied from another window of the building. From a window one floor up, an old man's head wrapped in a bandanna appeared. He turned his gaze to the Hunter's Guild and saw Red and exclaimed, "No way, Mora. I'm on my way to the Hunter's Guild myself!"

More yelling erupted in the neighborhood, and more individuals began to make their way over to the Hunter's Guild building. Red became confused and began to panic, but he was unable to get beyond the doorframe. Mas forced him back in and tipped him onto a sofa, as the sweating man from before started serving tea.

The older man at the guild receptionist desk protested, but he was all but ignored by the trio having their tea.

“Settle down, Mister Euness,” Mas said, waving the older receptionist away, “We’re just having a spot of tea before Red heads out.”

“This is a place of business,” Euness tried to say, but was once more entirely disregarded.

People started to pour into the Hunter’s Guild with all manner of backgrounds. Some being laborers, others clerks, and a few unlicensed mages came to see what all the commotion was about.

Euness tried to keep order, but it was an unfruitful task.

“Hey, Red Rumble, congratulations champ!” a man entering the building cheered.

Other people coming in started chirping their own salutations and felicitations toward Red.

“Red Rumble, you’re the best brawler of all time!”

“Please, Red Rumble. I just have to shake your hand.”

“Red Rumble is becoming a Hunter? Well, there’s not a brawler in this world that could match up to him, is there? It’s probably for the best.”

People around Red began to question him, such as if he could beat up anyone without a weapon and how fast or strong he was. Red wanted to shut them all out as he was upset, but something within him ignited into life, leading him to speak up.

“How strong? I’m a bear of a man, young and hungry. I can’t see anyone without a weapon being able to even land a single hit!” He declared with much more gusto than he had spoken thus far at the Hunter’s Guild, almost as if he had turned into a completely different person.

People "ooed" and "awed" at his words.

“What about the Hound? He almost had you in that fight, didn’t he?”

“The Hound?” Red chuckled, amused, “If that dog fought me at my best, he would’ve been taught to play dead much faster than when I taught it to him the last time!”

The crowd’s mood began to rise noticeably after hearing him start to speak more.

"I heard the Hound was the greatest in all the gypsy camps on this side of the country," one onlooker added, having only heard of Red Rumble from people who witnessed last night's gypsy brawls.

“You’re looking at the best here right now,” Red said as he put two arms up and flexed his muscles.

The crowd began to cheer. Red's demeanor truly belonged to a kind of man who had brought down the whole of the gypsy camp’s brawlers.

“Mister Rumble,” a man at the door spoke up, “How can you fight like that? Never in my life have I ever seen anyone move the way you do, and I was once a brawler myself.”

“The gods have sculpted the mountains. They have poured water into the seas. But their greatest miracle was,” Red thumbed towards himself, “making me.”

The crowd began to stir into a frenzy, lit up from Red’s brash talk.

As they started to become more animated, Euness, the receptionist, started to become alarmed and concerned that they might start making a mess of the premises. After noticing that the Hunter's Guild receptionist was starting to become anxious and realizing that any harm to the waiting area would probably be deducted from his own pay, Mas clapped his hands to draw everyone's attention.

Mas loudly addressed the crowd, “I’m sorry everyone, but the Hunter’s Guild has to get on with our business, and I’m sure you all have your own work to do as well.”

People made sounds of disappointment since they wanted to speak to the rambunctious youth for a while longer, but they eventually gave in and started to depart. Before long, everyone had left, leaving only four in the waiting area of the Hunter’s guild.

Mas sipped his tea as he said, “I really can’t believe you’re here, Red Rumble. I was absolutely certain that you were a high noble from the upper districts that wanted to have a bit of fun in the gypsy brawls.”

“Well,” Red said, still being influenced by his memories of the boxer, spread his arms wide, “Seeing is believing.”

Mas chuckled, trying to soak in as much of the moment as he could. It was impossible to predict how far the young man in front of him would go. Red appeared to be destined for great stages like those where gladiators fought unarmed in front of the world's elites.

Thinking of the unarmed fighting world made Mas curious.

“Why are you becoming a hunter?” He asked after thinking, “The unarmed fights in the Sylvan Coliseum or even the Marbled Dome are more fitting of a place for someone like you.”

“He isn’t going to be a Hunter,” Euness interjected.