"It’s irrelevant," I said evenly, keeping my stance calm. I had a strong suspicion as to why they’d timed their ambush now, here, in the so-called “safe zone.”

I crossed my arms, feeling anything but intimidated. "The no-kill rule only applied during the exam itself. This is a stopover."

Silhouette’s voice was cold as he gave a warning. "Mere sophistry won’t get you out of this."

I met his inhuman gaze head-on. "I have no interest in spinning tales. I’m being frank. I killed that… woman in self-defense. And if you hadn’t bound him, I would have done the same to him," I said, glancing pointedly at Gerry, “given he’s a threat to me. Right now, it’s only my word against his, unless you can provide some irrefutable evidence that I acted in bad faith. If you can, then I welcome any punishment you see fit.”

The hunters in the room didn’t owe me any loyalty—they were strangers. Still, I’d said enough to make them hesitate. Hunters might be reluctant to get involved, but they were also witnesses, intentionally or not. They’d have to consider this “investigation” carefully, especially given Silhouette’s power.

Silhouette was formidable—no question about it. A direct fight was out of the question, and he knew it. But a case? That might be my only edge.

Gerry’s scowl deepened, his voice dripping with disdain. “Is this the honor of the Association, to be swayed by a mere pebble’s words?”

Silhouette’s gaze snapped to him, one slender finger rising as shadowy slime wrapped around Gerry’s mouth, silencing him. “Hush... I’m thinking.” He frowned thoughtfully, muttering, “Such an unpleasant development…”

That’s when Wolf stepped forward, his hand raised hesitantly. “Uh, excuse me, sir. I’d like to stand as a witness if possible. I believe…” He glanced at me, clearly struggling to remember my name.

“Reynard,” I offered.

“Yes! I believe Mr. Reynard is innocent, and like he said… it was in self-defense. I saw it myself—I have a good eye for these things.” He pulled a pair of knives from his pocket, handing them to Silhouette with a firm nod. “I saw this pair used as projectiles.”

Then Kara stepped forward. “It’s as the boy said. This man is innocent.”

I folded my arms, keeping my gaze fixed on Silhouette, and let my tone sharpen. “It’s clear the Association doesn’t concern itself with the weak, only taking action after the fact instead of preventing the offense in the first place. Surely, if you’d wanted to stop this, you’d have teleported me out of harm’s way—after all, you’re capable of that. But no, you waited. So, who’s really responsible for that woman’s death?”

Silhouette’s dark eyes flitted from me to the others and back, his expression tightening as if he, too, sensed where the blame could just as easily fall.

“Well played,” Silhouette muttered with a hint of amusement in his voice as he released the chains binding both Gerry and Selena.

The second Gerry’s hands were free, his face contorted in fury, and he summoned a pair of gleaming daggers, leveling them at me with an intense, murderous glare. “I can’t let this stand! I am going to—”

But before he could finish, Silhouette moved with blinding speed, his hand clamping around Gerry’s throat. The room grew still, shadows flickering ominously as Silhouette’s aura pressed down, each word he spoke making the lights pulse in time.

“Don’t,” he warned, his voice a quiet, menacing command. “Just don’t. I don’t care if you want to murder him, but not in my presence. Do you understand, boy? Blink once if you understand.”

Gerry’s wide eyes stared in panic, his face turning a shade paler. He blinked once, reluctantly conceding.

“Good.” Silhouette’s grip loosened, and he let Gerry drop, who staggered backward, coughing and seething.

I met Silhouette’s gaze and nodded, understanding just how serious he was.

“Now, I have derailed too much,” Silhouette sighed, summoning a cane from thin air. He tapped it twice against the floor, and the energy around us shifted, calming to an eerie stillness. “Congratulations, you all have passed!”

An awkward silence followed, thick with disbelief and unease.

Silhouette frowned, tapping the cane again, his voice cool and demanding. “Applause, will you?”

Reluctantly, we all clapped, the sound uneven but persistent under his expectant gaze.

“Now,” Silhouette continued, “you have two pathways before you.” He gestured first to the left. “Here, you may claim your licenses and be free from the exam.”

Then, sweeping his cane to the right, he added, “To my right lies a path that leads to luxury suites where you may rest and prepare. But be warned—tomorrow, the true test of abilities will resume, and it is not just about a license. No ‘no-kill’ rule will be enforced for the remainder of the exam. If you wish to continue, be aware: you will risk death.”

Silhouette’s voice took on a deeper tone. “Retreating now is not shameful,” he warned. “If you’re new to aura, I strongly advise against continuing. A license alone will serve you well enough to start your hunter lifestyle.”

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

A hunter in a weathered cowboy hat piped up, curiosity plain on his face. “What’s so special about the latter half, anyway? I thought a license was all we were here for.”

Silhouette gave a small, knowing smile. “You’d be right, in part. The latter exams offer more than a license—they’re an opportunity to become stronger. During these stages, you’ll be shown advanced aura applications, techniques that go beyond what most hunters learn. Hidden judges will be grading each of you. This ranking system is a new experiment, the chairman’s recent initiative and you’re the first to experience it.”

His eyes scanned the room, locking briefly with each of ours before he continued. “But the true prize of these final stages isn’t the knowledge gained along the way… it’s the golden pass.”

A murmur went through the room. I knew the golden pass was more than just a status symbol—it was a gateway to the highest echelons of hunter society, granting access to resources and missions only the elite could touch.

This new system was the chairman’s way of future-proofing the Association’s hold over the hunter world. Right now, the golden pass wasn’t anything vital—more of a badge than a requirement. But in time, that would change. More unofficial hunters would start to see the benefits of aligning with the Association, especially under a chairman as young and ambitious as ours, someone who seemed to know exactly what he was doing.

Silhouette tapped his cane once more, the sharp sound pulling us back to attention. “Now, feel free to decide your own paths… I won’t bother you more than necessary.” His dark gaze swept over us, lingering just long enough to make an impression. “With that, it’s time for me to go. Until then…”

With a burst of aura and a swirl of shadows, Silhouette vanished, swallowed by the energy as if he were never there.

“Goddamn it!” Selena flipped the entire table, sending everything on it scattering across the floor. “He just appeared... without a word!” she snarled, storming off toward the path for those continuing their exams. Her footsteps echoed with a fury that matched her mood.

I couldn’t blame her. I understood exactly where her frustration came from—Silhouette was her biological father, after all. One of the Seven Extremes, he represented the Trickster’s Pillar. Most people didn’t know him as a hunter; he was far better known as the founder of the Black Guard, a powerful, government-adjacent paramilitary group almost on par with the Hunter’s Association itself.

Silhouette was certainly an oddity. Despite being one of the Seven Extremes—the strongest hunters in the world—he was probably the least known among them. And that was just how he wanted it.

Kara walked up to me, her expression remained hidden under her veil. “I guess this is it,” she said.

“You have no plans of continuing?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.

“No,” she replied simply. “I’ve acquired what I wanted here, so it’s time for me to go. Farewell.” She paused and glanced at me for a second longer. “And remember, you owe me one.”

Typical Kara—straight to the point, and always leaving with the upper hand.

As I watched Kara disappear down the hall, I nearly jumped when I realized Wolf had managed to sneak up on me. I turned around, keeping my face calm, but inwardly, I was on edge. There was something about Wolf that had always felt off. I could never quite put my finger on it, but he wasn’t what he seemed.

He looked like a harmless kid as usual, smiling in that easy, carefree way of his. “I’ll be heading out too,” he said, extending his hand for a handshake. “Sheesh, I’d like to keep going, but I don’t think I’m up for it.”

“You’ve been a big help.” I clasped his hand, only for him to tighten his grip and yank me closer. The harmless look in his eyes vanished, replaced by something sharp and predatory—the gaze of a full-grown wolf.

Wolf leaned in and murmured in a low, dangerous whisper, “How is your wife doing?”

I tried to tap into his aura using Soul Link, hoping to get a read on him. Nothing. My ability hit a solid wall, blocked entirely.

Wolf’s grin widened. “I’ve seen enough of what you can do… cute trick.” He paused, letting the words hang in the air before he added, “Hey, how about joining my Troupe?”

A chill ran down my spine. I’d never noticed it before. That was how good he was.

The Undead Troupe.

Motherfucker.

“No,” I said, keeping my tone steady. The offer was tempting, I’d admit that. If the Troupe had been fully formed, they’d stand a real chance at wiping out the Elsewhere Cult. But they were still in their recruitment phase, not quite the force they aspired to be. “Your teammate Kara seemed oblivious to your games… You sent her on a task, and then what? Why couldn’t you trust her with a simple errand like getting a license?”

Wolf—or whoever he was—let out a chuckle, unbothered. “What’s the word? Ah~ fool your friends, fool your enemies… nah, who cares, right?”

I could feel it—the subtle but unmistakable threat in his grip. He could snap me in half in an instant if he wanted to.

The hunter world was ruthless, where strength dictated survival. If I backed down now, he’d see me as weak. And in this world, that meant being used… or worse. So, I made my move. I activated the disguise attribute I had, the last remnant of my own hidden power, and began to unravel his façade.

Gradually, Wolf’s dark hair faded to a brown shade. His forgettable face became sharper, more defined. He grew a few centimeters taller, shifting from a late teen’s appearance to that of a young man in his early twenties.

“You look uglier without your glasses,” I taunted as if I could do much more than just unravel his illusions. I even threw in a name, driving home my point. “So, what’s it gonna be… Loki?”

For a brief second, his expression faltered. The smirk returned quickly, however, but I saw the unmistakable flash of surprise.

Loki O. Loki. That was the name of the boss of the Undead Troupe.

In my novel, he was the kind of villain who thrived on theatrics and the art of pretending to be weak. His backstory was… let’s just say it was complicated. Those initials—L.O.L.—might sound ridiculous to the unknowing ear, but in time, the mere mention of them would send a chill through anyone marked by the notorious Loki.

I’d based him loosely on the God of Mischief from Norse mythology, so naturally, he was strong—absurdly so.

“Since you refused my offer, then I guess there’s nothing I can do.” Loki started to pull his hand back, but I tightened my grip, holding it firm. It was a reckless move, maybe even suicidal, but it was as good a chance as any to test him.

“Let go,” he said, letting a sliver of killing intent seep through. I felt it prickle along my skin, but I ignored it.

“What do you think of a job for me?” I asked.

With the current state of the Undead Troupe, taking down the Prophet would be impossible. Sure, they could hit a few Elsewhere Cult bases, but it would be a waste of time. The cult would just rebuild, using resources from their Nightmare Realities: realms where they harvested gold, jewels, artifacts, and even captured hunters.

Loki’s hand shifted, becoming a mist that slipped free from my grasp. “What job? And what about payment? Just so you know… my people aren’t cheap.”

I grinned. “The payment? Information about your biological father’s identity. You’re curious, aren’t you? Now, ask me… what’s the price of such information?”