Ren exhaled, his body still aching from the brutal fight with the Essence Beast. But despite the exhaustion pressing down on him, his mind was sharp.

  He knew his answer.

  He met Isamu’s gaze, unwavering.

  “I want to survive.”

  A flicker of something crossed Isamu’s face—approval, maybe. Understanding.

  Ren didn’t say anything more. He didn’t need to. He wasn’t about to go on some righteous crusade, wasn’t interested in playing the hero or following some grand prophecy. He had lived his entire life scraping by, clawing his way through every challenge.

  That wasn’t going to change just because the Mandate had chosen him.

  He wasn’t a savior. He wasn’t a warrior of justice.

  He was Kurozawa Ren. And he would do whatever it took to stay alive.

  Isamu smirked. “Smart answer.”

  Ren scoffed. “I don’t give dumb ones.”

  Isamu chuckled, but there was something knowing in his eyes. “Survival, huh? That’s a goal I can respect. But tell me, do you know what you’re surviving against?”

  Ren frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Isamu gave him a small, almost lazy shrug. “You said you want to survive. But the world’s bigger than just you, kid. Bigger than this city.” He gestured to the night sky. “You can only survive for so long without knowing what’s out there. So… do you have any questions?”

  Ren didn’t hesitate. “Yeah. I want to know everything.”

  For the first time, Isamu looked genuinely impressed.

  “Everything?” he echoed, tilting his head. “That’s a lot to ask for.”

  Ren crossed his arms. “Then start with the basics.”

  Isamu chuckled again. “Alright. Let’s start with something simple: the world you live in.”

  Ren narrowed his eyes, listening closely.

  “You already know about the Boku,” Isamu began. “But do you actually know what they are?”

  “They’re criminals,” Ren said immediately. “They work in the underworld. Mercenaries, smugglers, slavers—whatever makes them money.”

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  Isamu nodded. “Mostly true. But the Boku aren’t a single organization. They’re a concept. Think of them as unlicensed mercenaries, people who take jobs outside the law. Some of them are just sellswords, hired muscle for the highest bidder. Others?” He shrugged. “They’re the worst kind of scum.”

  Ren absorbed the information. It made sense. He had seen Boku who were nothing more than desperate men looking for coin, and others who were worse than animals.

  “Then there’s the Shikari,” Isamu continued. “Which, whether you like it or not, you’re now a part of.”

  Ren tensed slightly at that.

  Isamu smirked. “Relax. Being a Shikari doesn’t make you a saint. It just means you’ve been chosen by the Mandate. That’s all.”

  Ren frowned. “Then what’s the difference between Shikari and Boku?”

  “Control,” Isamu answered. “The Boku have none. They do as they please, taking jobs wherever they can find them, legal or not. The Shikari?” He tapped his chest. “We have rules. Structure. We don’t work for just anyone—we answer to the Clans.”

  Ren’s brows furrowed. “The Clans?”

  Isamu nodded. “The real power behind the Shikari. There are several of them, each one overseeing different regions, different domains. They assign jobs, handle disputes, and enforce the law among Shikari.” He paused, then added, “They’re also the ones who decide if a Shikari has overstepped their bounds. If a Shikari breaks the law, they send people like me to deal with them.”

  Ren clenched his jaw. So that was how things worked.

  The Clans weren’t just organizations—they were the ones in charge.

  And if the Boku were the lawless, then the Clans were the ones who dictated what “law” even meant.

  “But,” Isamu continued, “not all Shikari belong to a Clan. Some, like me, operate independently.”

  Ren arched a brow. “And how does that work?”

  Isamu smirked. “That’s where the Guild comes in.”

  “The Guild?”

  Isamu nodded. “Think of it as the middleman between the Clans and the government. The Guild takes requests from both—anything from bounty hunting to monster extermination—and distributes them to unaffiliated Shikari or even skilled Hunters who aren’t tied to a Clan.”

  Ren considered that for a moment.

  “So the Guild handles freelance work?”

  “Essentially,” Isamu confirmed. “Most Shikari stick to their Clans, but for those who don’t want to be tied down, the Guild is the best way to make a living.”

  Ren exhaled. It was a lot to take in, but it finally gave him some clarity.

  The Boku were lawless mercenaries.

  The Shikari were those chosen by the Mandate, usually working under Clans.

  The Clans controlled the Shikari, deciding what was allowed and what wasn’t.

  And the Guild? The Guild was a neutral ground, a bridge between the Clans and the government, providing jobs for independent Shikari.

  It was a system of power, order, and survival.

  Ren clicked his tongue. “So where does that leave me?”

  Isamu gave him a knowing look. “That depends. Do you want to work for a Clan? Or do you want to be your own man?”

  Ren hesitated.

  He had always been alone. Always fought for himself. The idea of working under someone else—being controlled—made his skin crawl.

  But at the same time…

  The Clans had resources.

  If he joined one, he would have access to more knowledge about the Mandate, more ways to understand what was happening to him.

  Still…

  “I’ll think about it,” Ren said finally.

  Isamu chuckled. “Good. That’s a decision you shouldn’t rush.”

  Ren exhaled, running a hand through his hair. His mind was spinning with everything he had learned, but at least now, he had somewhere to start.

  He wasn’t the only one.

  Others had been chosen by the Mandate before him. Others had survived, built their own paths, found ways to live with it.

  And if they could do it—

  So could he.