Jennifer adjusted the frayed cloth draped across her chest as she walked through the bustling streets toward the Monster Slayer Hub. The massive, towering structure dominated the skyline, its slim, gleaming rod piercing the heavens like a beacon.

Her bare shoulders and disheveled appearance drew stares from passersby. Murmurs followed her, but she kept her gaze forward, pretending not to notice.

Near a lively market stall, she paused. The vendor eyed her as she picked up a plain, slightly oversized shirt.

“How much?” Jennifer asked, her tone clipped.

“Two bronze coins,” the vendor replied.

Without a word, she dug into her pouch, dropped the coins into his outstretched hand, and slipped the shirt on over her head. It wasn’t stylish, but it covered her properly.

She muttered a quick “thanks” and moved on.

The stairs leading to the Hub’s entrance seemed endless.

At the top, two guards loomed like statues, their seven-foot frames clad in glinting armor. Their halberds crossed, barring her path as she approached the closed double doors.

“What do you want?” one of them growled, his voice a low rumble.

Jennifer straightened her back. “I want to be a Monster Slayer. I have the mark.” She hesitated, searching her memory. “The… key to eternity,” she finished, hoping that was the right term.

The guard on the right stared at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable beneath his helmet. Then, without a word, he pushed one of the massive doors open with a groan of metal and wood.

Jennifer blinked, taken aback. “You’re not… going to want proof?” she asked, her voice tinged with suspicion.

The guard shrugged. “Don’t care.”

She hesitated briefly, then stepped inside. The doors creaked shut behind her, sealing her in an expansive, dimly lit room. As she walked, rows of lights flickered to life overhead, illuminating a cavernous space filled with scattered chairs and couches. Despite its imposing exterior, the interior felt more like an abandoned lounge than a prestigious hub.

From a side doorway, another guard approached, his gait measured and deliberate. “Sit and wait,” he instructed. “A tester will see you soon.”

Jennifer nodded and found a seat on one of the couches. The cushion sank beneath her weight as she scanned the room. Minutes passed in silence before a woman emerged from a central doorway.

She was dressed in a sharp, modern outfit with a steampunk-like tablet in hand, gears visibly clicking as she tapped on its screen.

“Proof?” the woman asked curtly as she stopped in front of Jennifer.

Jennifer stood, turned her back to the woman, and lifted her shirt to reveal the intricate mark, shaped as a very weird key etched onto her skin. The woman’s eyes narrowed.

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“Make it glow,” she demanded.

Jennifer froze. “How?”

“Focus on it. Just think about it. Concentrate.”

Taking a deep breath, Jennifer closed her eyes and concentrated. At first, nothing happened. Then, a faint warmth spread across her back, and the mark began to emit a soft, golden light.

The woman nodded approvingly. “Legit.”

Jennifer lowered her shirt as the woman took a seat opposite her. She gestured for Jennifer to do the same.

“Name?” the woman asked, her tone casual.

“Jennifer. You?”

“Marcy,” the woman replied with a faint smile. She leaned back, her eyes scanning Jennifer’s face. “Tell me about yourself. Where are you from?”

Jennifer hesitated. “This city, Reyudan,” she admitted. “I live by myself, and have been doing so for the past four years, since I was sixteen. Been surviving how I know how to. Don't have anyone else to rely on, so..." Jennifer shrugs.

Marcy nodded, her expression sympathetic but not prying. “Why do you want to become a Monster Slayer?”

Jennifer’s gaze dropped to her hands. “I want more out of life. My old job was… repetitive. People treated me like trash. Like I was nothing. I… I want to be something. Do something special.”

Marcy regarded her for a moment before reaching into her pocket and pulling out a small card. She slid it across the table.

“This is your progression card,” Marcy explained. “You’ll need to prove your worth. Bring me the heads of ten sharp-claw lizards, and you’ll earn your place here.”

Jennifer took the card, her fingers tightening around it. “I’ll do it.”

Marcy stood, gesturing for Jennifer to follow. “Let’s get you geared up. No point in sending you out there unprepared.”

They walked toward another doorway, the faint hum of machinery growing louder as they approached.

“Do I have to do this alone?” Jennifer asked. "I don't have an issue with it. I just have no idea what I should look for and so on."

Marcy glanced at her. “No. Someone just became a Slayer today. I’ll contact them. They’ll give you the basics and help you get started.”

Jennifer frowned slightly. “What’s their name?”

“Damon,” Marcy replied. “He’s… well, let’s just say he’s a little rough around the edges. But he knows his stuff.”

Marcy led Jennifer down a corridor lined with glowing panels embedded into the walls.

They approached a heavy steel door marked with the words "Armory." Marcy pressed a button, and the door slid open with a hiss, revealing a vast room filled with racks of weapons and armor. At the far end, behind a counter cluttered with tools and scraps of leather, stood an old man hunched over a piece of armor.

“Aercu!” Marcy called out, her voice cutting through the low buzz of the machinery.

The old man looked up, his face weathered but sharp, and a crooked smile spread across his lips. “Marcy! Bringing me another recruit, are you?”

“Jennifer,” Marcy introduced, gesturing to her. “She needs gear. Help her figure out what suits her.”

Mercu shuffled out from behind the counter, wiping his hands on a grease-stained cloth. His sharp eyes scanned Jennifer from head to toe. “Alright then, what kind of fighting style are you interested in? Heavy armor for defense? Or something light? And weapon preference? Long-distance like a bow? Close-long like a spear? Mid-close like a sword? Or short-close?”

Jennifer’s gaze drifted to the shelves lining the room. She paused, her eyes settling on a pair of sleek gauntlets displayed on a pedestal. “Something light,” she said, her voice steady. “And… gauntlets.”

Aercu raised an eyebrow, his expression a mix of curiosity and skepticism. “Gauntlets? You have experience with those?”

Jennifer hesitated, then shook her head. “Not really. I just… I want to kill things with my hands.”

Aercu blinked, taken aback by her bluntness. Then, after a moment, he chuckled, a raspy sound that echoed in the room. “Well, that’s a first. Most people want to keep their distance. Alright, let’s see what I’ve got.”

He disappeared into the back room, his muttering barely audible over the hum of the machinery. When he returned, he carried a pair of gauntlets made of dark, reinforced leather with metallic plating along the knuckles.

“These should do the trick,” he said, handing them over. “Lightweight, but they pack a punch. Try them on.”

Jennifer slipped them on, flexing her fingers. The fit was snug but comfortable.