"Really?" "Yeah, it should have been up to three months now, and ever since I noticed him, I've always seen him every other day." "Wow, how serious is an athlete to take training so vigorously?" Two men standing in front of a shop that read Stance Seam, on the board hung atop it, engaged in conversation as they watched the receding figure of a youth, in a deep blue hoodie and sneakers, race his way along the road, the hoodie bouncing around his neck. The focused face of Hal Rodgraim came into view as he performed the running aspect of his daily task; his red hair, which was a stark contrast to his deep blue sweater, made his features sharper. It had been two days now, since he went to the arcade. It had been two days since he met with the system, and talked with the lady from the gaming center. Today was Thursday, and Bethany would be coming home. 'At least the house wouldn't be so boring anymore.' Hal thought, as he ran back towards his home. Anytime from now, the daily

Baun!The muffled sound of horns from trucks sounded through the glass wall that separated the interior of the cafe from the road, along which pedestrians plied the sidewalk.Round brown tables were neatly arranged all around the interior space.Right by the left end of the glass sat two men opposite each other, a little square-shaped table, different from the others, separating them.This was Hal and Tom Garfield from the Second Division of the Vanguard guild. It was a little past one in the day, and Tom was meeting with Hal to convince him to join his guild."Good afternoon Hal, how's it going?" Tom said quite faintly, his look holding a hidden bit of worry."..." Hal responded with a nod of the head, urging Tom to go on."Uh, can we start this again?" Tom asked, after a brief second of hesitation, his look becoming sharper."Sure." Hal briskly replied.With that said Tom adjusted his suit, then introduced himself."My name is Tom Garfield, and I'm in charge of the Second Division o

After his major episode with Tom, Hal headed towards home. The just-concluded meeting was his only reason for leaving the house today, except for his daily task, which he had long completed in the morning, that is. The evening streets were calmer now. The rush of traffic had thinned, leaving only the occasional honk of a car and the distant chatter of pedestrians. The neon signs from small shops bled colors into the sidewalks, painting patches of crimson, violet, and blue. Hal walked steadily, his hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable, though his mind was anything but quiet. As he moved, Hal’s thoughts naturally replayed the scenario that had occurred between him and the agent from the Vanguard Guild. 'Ah, after the way I acted towards that man, boasting about my potential, wouldn’t it be wise to keep low for a while?' "Tsk!" He clicked his tongue softly. 'I mean, with all I said, and from my little observation on him, that agent seems like someone with a lot of exper

"A Red Gate, what in the name of the heavens is going on here?" The CEO of the Vanguard Guild, Elliot Vorden, ran straight to the location as soon as he received the urgent call. The complexion of Robert could only be said to be ashen. "I also…" "I'm going to see it myself." Elliot Vorden walked past the Guild employees who looked like they had just escaped hell. It really is a Red Gate! Elliot Vorden's own expression hardened instantly after seeing the crimson surface of the Gate. This was an extremely dire situation, as a Red Gate was nothing to joke about. What exactly was a Red Gate? A Red Gate was a type of Gate that connected to an entirely different world, not some cavern. Experience had it that the situations in a Red Gate were always extreme, with time itself flowing differently inside. The monsters were always powerful and rare, often belonging to entirely different species—encounters could range from winged beasts to armored predators, all within the same domain.

Leon Magnus’s confident stare and the way he carried his broad shoulders radiated a kind of strength that demanded attention. His presence alone seemed to anchor the Hunters’ nerves, urging them to believe that as long as he led, they would find their way through this cursed dungeon. After the skirmish just moments ago, he wasted no time pressing his point. They had to move forward, searching for the dungeon boss that, as he declared with pride, would die by his own hands. His voice boomed with such certainty that it felt less like a suggestion and more like a proclamation carved into stone. He called upon the others to join him, to march behind him in this so-called noble quest. His words promised victory and safety, a swift return home if they trusted in his leadership. The Hunters exchanged wary glances, hesitation flickering in their eyes, before one by one they voiced their willingness. “Let us walk together!” “At your service.” “Let’s do this!” “I’m with you!” Their re