The world of Arcanis was vast, mysterious, and unforgiving. Magic flowed through its very veins, seeping into the earth, the air, and even the creatures that roamed the wilds. From towering spires of crystal that channeled mana from the skies to deep, winding dungeons that seemed to twist reality itself, Arcanis was a land where power was everything. Adventurers, mages, and mercenaries sought fortune and glory by delving into these dungeons, hoping to claim enchanted artifacts and untold riches.

But for every success story, there were hundreds of failures—lost souls, forgotten and buried in the labyrinthine depths, claimed by the dangers lurking below. Over time, the world had stratified into those who could wield magic or conquer dungeons, and those who were little more than bystanders to the extraordinary.

The top adventurers were legends, feared, and revered. Cities were built around dungeons, and the economy of Arcanis thrived on the resources and magic they provided. Yet, the deeper one ventured, the more one learned that the world was not all grand feats and mighty spells. It was full of mystery, corruption, and dark secrets that many would kill to protect.

Jack Winston knew that better than anyone. He had been an adventurer once, one of the best in his field. But now, instead of fame and fortune, he sat in a dingy office tucked into the corner of Grimspire's slums, operating as a private detective. A far cry from his days of slashing through monsters and collecting bounties.

The rain outside pelted the window, a rhythmic drumbeat that seemed to mock his current situation. Jack leaned back in his chair, feet kicked up on his desk. A half-empty bottle of whiskey sat next to an ever-growing pile of unpaid bills. The room smelled like old books, burnt coffee, and just a hint of regret.

"Hard to believe, isn't it?" He muttered to himself, staring at the ceiling.

His office, though small and unimpressive, was filled with mementos from his days as an adventurer. A cracked sword hung on the wall, an old battle trophy from his days in the Ironfang Dungeons. The scabbard was lined with scorch marks from an encounter with a rogue fire elemental—one of his last big jobs before he decided that enough was enough.

Five Years Ago

Jack's last adventure with The Silver Blades was a carefully orchestrated disaster—though no one knew that except him.

The others thought he had just botched the mission, his famed bravado getting the better of him during a fight with the Slime King in the Crumbling Crypt. What they didn't know was that Jack had been planning his exit long before they ever set foot in that dungeon. He had his reasons, reasons none of his fellow adventurers would have ever suspected.

It all started with a treasure chest.

While the others were battling the Slime King, Jack slipped away during a lull in the fight, knowing exactly what he was looking for. Thanks to his seemingly useless skill, Lucky Me!, Jack had a knack for finding things—particularly legendary objects. Most thought it was just a joke, the kind of skill you wouldn't waste time leveling up. But Jack had always known better. Sure, Lucky Me! only gave him a measly 0.1% chance to pull something legendary from a chest, but it had paid off before. And today, it would pay off again.

There it was, tucked behind a crumbling wall, hidden from the others—a chest covered in dust and nearly indistinguishable from the dungeon debris. To any other adventurer, it would've looked like junk. But Jack's instincts were screaming at him, his skill quietly humming in the back of his mind like a loaded dice ready to roll.

He crouched down, cracked it open, and—there it was.

An egg.

Not just any egg. This was the egg—a legendary egg. It shimmered with faint magical energy, almost pulsing in time with his heartbeat. Jack had no idea what kind of creature was inside, but he knew one thing: this was his way out. He could already feel the power radiating from it. A legendary find like this could make him rich beyond his wildest dreams, or more importantly, it could give him something far more valuable—freedom.

He stuffed the egg into his pack, careful not to let anyone see. That's when he decided to pull the plug on his adventuring career.

And what better way to do it than by staging a ridiculous, embarrassing exit?

He waited for the perfect moment, mid-battle against the Slime King, when everyone's attention was focused on the fight. With a dramatic charge, he swung his sword in a way that made it look like he was trying to land a killing blow—but of course, he let the sword get lodged deep in the slime. Then, "accidentally," he got his feet stuck too, kicking and flailing as if the monster had bested him.

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It was perfect. The others would never suspect a thing.

"Help!" he'd cried, all the while knowing exactly what he was doing.

His teammates had laughed at him, as expected, while a novice mage freed him with an overly dramatic gust of wind. When the Slime King finally went down, Jack put on his best disappointed face and pretended to mourn the loss of his sword—now a permanent addition to the slime's gooey body.

Of course, the guild official confirmed it. The sword was a goner, irretrievable. Jack made a big show of it, using the loss of his "beloved weapon" as an excuse to retire from the adventuring life altogether.

No one questioned it. They just figured the Slime King had been his breaking point.

But in truth, Jack had been playing them all. He walked away from that dungeon a "washed-up ex-adventurer," but with a legendary egg hidden in his pack and the chance to live a much quieter, more comfortable life.

Jack had thought it would be simple.

He had the egg, a legendary find that could make him rich beyond his dreams. All he had to do was sell it to the right buyer, someone wealthy and reckless enough to pay a fortune for something as rare as a legendary creature egg. He'd already mapped out his plan: disappear from the adventuring life, lay low for a while, then quietly cash in.

But life in Arcanis had never been that easy. Things started to go wrong the moment he tried to make the sale.

Three Weeks After Resigning

Jack sat in a dimly lit tavern, nursing a tankard of ale. Across from him sat a man dressed in fine robes, his fingers adorned with rings of enchanted gemstones. The kind of buyer Jack had been hoping for—wealthy, powerful, and more than a little greedy. The man's eyes gleamed as he looked at the egg Jack placed on the table, carefully wrapped in cloth to keep its shine hidden.

"This is it, then?" the man asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Jack nodded, keeping his face impassive. "It is. Legendary, just like I promised."

The man reached out, his fingers trembling as they hovered over the egg. Jack had seen that look before—the hunger for power, for status. He knew the buyer was hooked.

But just as the man's hand touched the egg, something happened.

The air in the room grew thick, as if all the mana in the area had been sucked into a single point. The egg pulsed, its glow intensifying. Jack felt a sharp jolt in his chest, a tug that made him sit up straight, heart pounding in confusion.

The buyer recoiled, snatching his hand away. "What the hell is this?" he snarled, his eyes wide with panic.

Jack frowned. "What do you mean?"

"It won't let me take it!" the man shouted, standing up from the table. "The egg... it's bonded to you. Only you!"

Jack stared at the egg, the realization hitting him like a punch to the gut. Bonded? No. That wasn't possible. He hadn't signed up for this. He had only wanted to sell the damn thing. Besides, there was less than a 1% chance of an egg being bonded to the first person touching it. And he was that one lucky or unlucky person.

"You didn't tell me it was bound to you!" the man hissed, drawing attention from other patrons in the tavern. He stood up, fury and disappointment twisting his face. "This was supposed to be a clean deal."

"I didn't know," Jack muttered, but his explanation was met with a look of pure venom.

"Find another buyer. Someone willing to risk an egg that's already claimed," the man spat, throwing a handful of coins on the table before storming out of the tavern.

Jack spent the next few weeks trying to sell the egg, but each attempt ended in failure. No matter how many buyers he approached, the result was always the same: the egg had formed a bond with him. A contract. No one else could touch it, let alone buy it, without feeling the same eerie rejection.

The worst part? He had no idea how to break the bond. The legendary egg was his now, whether he liked it or not.

Jack had considered using the egg for himself, of course. The thought crossed his mind every time he looked at it—what kind of power could a legendary beast give him? Maybe it was the key to unlocking a new chapter in his life, one where he wasn't just a washed-up ex-adventurer turned private investigator.

But the more he thought about it, the more he realized why it was a terrible idea.

Raising a legendary beast wasn't like hatching a common pet. It wasn't just about watching the egg crack open and marveling at whatever mythical creature stepped out. No, raising a legendary creature was a massive, long-term commitment. It required resources—vast amounts of money, magical materials, special food, and constant training. Even elite adventurers and rich nobles struggled to maintain legendary beasts, and they had entire teams of mages and beastmasters at their disposal. Jack had... well, himself. And his apartment wasn't exactly suited for raising anything, let alone a creature that could potentially grow to the size of a house.

There was also the risk factor. Not all legendary beasts were useful. The world of Arcanis was littered with stories of adventurers hatching what they thought would be a world-altering dragon, only to find they were stuck with something far less impressive. A legendary chicken that tasted amazing but did nothing else. A giant tortoise that moved so slowly, it was more of a garden decoration than a weapon. Not all legendary creatures were war machines, after all. Some were just rare because they were strange, unique, or simply hard to find.

What if he invested all that time, money, and effort into the egg, and it hatched something utterly useless? Jack wasn't willing to take that gamble. He wasn't in a position to raise anything, let alone something that might end up being a glorified pet or a food source. 

There was also a part of him that simply didn't want to be tied down to something so unpredictable. The life of a private detective was already chaotic enough, with cases dragging him into dungeons, shady deals, and magical mishaps. Adding a legendary creature on top of that, one that might need constant care or might cause untold problems just by existing? No thanks.

The egg, while tempting, was too much of a risk. Jack had hoped to sell it off, get rich, and disappear into a life of quiet comfort. But now that the egg was bound to him, he was stuck with it.

And he wasn't about to pour his dwindling resources into a gamble that could hatch a legendary disaster.