Ren stood before the Guild Registrar, a weathered-looking woman with silver hair and a tired gaze. The air smelled of ink and old parchment, the room filled with the low hum of Shikari discussing missions, payment, and their next moves.

  The registrar barely glanced at him before reaching for a crimson crystal, pressing it to his palm. A faint glow surrounded his hand as his Mandate Signature was imprinted onto his identification card.

  [ Mandate Signature Confirmed ]

  [ Shikari Registration: Approved ]

  [ Rank: Bound (?) ]

  A metallic plate slid onto the desk—a Shikari Card, his official proof of status. It was black, the color of the lowest rank, Bound, marking him as a fresh recruit.

  “Here,” the woman said dryly. “Congratulations, you’re officially a Shikari. Try not to die.”

  Ren scoffed, flipping the card between his fingers. “Wow. That’s the most motivational speech I’ve ever heard.”

  She ignored him, already moving on to the next recruit.

  As he stepped away, Isamu was waiting for him, leaning against one of the guild’s support beams. The man gave him a lazy grin.

  “So,” Isamu said, arms crossed. “You made it, rookie.”

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  Ren smirked. “Were there ever any doubts?”

  “No, but watching you struggle would’ve been hilarious.”

  Ren rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. So, what now?”

  Isamu’s expression turned serious as he gestured for Ren to follow him outside. The two walked through the bustling city streets, the evening air thick with the scent of grilled skewers and burning incense.

  They stopped at a quiet alley, where Isamu turned to him.

  “You’re in the Guild now, but you’re still at the bottom,” he said. “And if you want to survive long enough to matter, you’ll need more than just talent.”

  Ren raised an eyebrow. “You offering to be my mentor or something?”

  Isamu chuckled. “Hell no. I’m not cut out for that. But I do have a proposition for you.”

  Ren crossed his arms. “I’m listening.”

  Isamu leaned in slightly, his voice lowering.

  “The Guild isn’t just about killing monsters or making money. At its core, it’s about understanding the unknown. The higher you go, the more you learn about the world—the things the Divine Court doesn’t want people to know.”

  Ren’s eyes narrowed at the mention of the Divine Court.

  Isamu smirked, noticing his reaction. “Yeah, I figured you’d be interested. You’re not the type to just take orders, Ren. You want control over your own fate. And the Guild… well, it’s one of the few places where you can actually carve out your own path.”

  Ren exhaled slowly. “And what’s your angle in all this?”

  Isamu shrugged. “Call it a hunch. You’re different, Ren. And in this world, people like you either rise to the top or die trying. I just want a front-row seat to see which one you’ll be.”

  Ren smirked. “Guess you’ll just have to stick around and find out.”

  Isamu chuckled, pushing off the wall. “That’s the plan, kid. Now, let’s get something to eat. You owe me a drink.”

  Ren scoffed. “You literally gave me money last time.”

  “And I’m expecting a return on my investment.”

  Shaking his head, Ren followed Isamu out of the alley, the city stretching before him. He was one step closer to his goal, but there was still a long road ahead.

  And Ren never took his eyes off the horizon.