Evening settled over Seoul like cooling metal. Neon blinked through the twilight. The traffic roared and pulsed, crowding the sidewalks with tired workers and glowing eyes from stray beasts perched on rooftops.
Han Seojin walked with his hands in his pockets and his thoughts turned down low. His legs ached. He hadn't eaten since the school cafeteria, and even then he'd barely touched his tray.
His stomach twisted. It had been hours since he'd come out of that collapsed dungeon. Hours since he'd been cleared, scanned, questioned, and released with nothing but a weird cheque for his trouble.
He spotted a noodle bar tucked between a VR pod parlor and a pawn shop. It didn't look like much. Yellow signage, half the letters flickering out. But the smell—salty broth, fried oil, steam—dragged him in.
Inside, it was cramped but warm. Plastic stools. The wall fan barely worked. A tiny old lady ran the counter.
He slid into a corner seat and ordered quietly. Just one bowl of ox bone broth ramen.
When the bowl came, he just stared at it for a few seconds, breathing it in. Steam rose from the milky surface. Floating scallions. Rich, oily surface bubbles. The first real comfort he'd had since this morning.
Then came the voice in his head.
"You're going to sit still and shove wet string into your mouth?"
Seojin didn't even flinch.
"You know what this smells like?" Fenrir grumbled. "Rotten pig water. If this is the pinnacle of mortal dining, I understand why your species is dying."
Seojin stuck his chopsticks in and stirred the broth. He slurped the first bite.
"Shut up. I earned this," he muttered.
Fenrir's voice sounded like a growl wrapped in sarcasm. "You've been walking for twenty minutes, quite the accomplishment. You did so much."
"I also didn't die today," Seojin shot back. "So I get a victory meal."
A low, insulted grumble rolled through his skull like a storm cloud.
He kept eating.
The warmth seeped through his chest. His fingers stopped shaking.
Then came the ping.
A sharp, silent flick above his noodles. A clean white box with gold lettering.
[New Quest]
Objective: Join a Registered GuildReward: +5 Skill Upgrade Points(System Advancement Locked Until Completion)Seojin blinked once. Then leaned back and sighed.
"Of course," he muttered. "Can't just have noodles."
Fenrir gave a smug chuff. "Your system's getting impatient. Even it knows you're wasting time."
Seojin slurped one last mouthful, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and stood.
"Let's go get rejected somewhere fancy."
The Guild Plaza glowed like a luxury mall dropped from space.
High glass buildings with curved walls. Guild banners fluttered in pixel holograms across massive displays. Every other window had a mounted beast behind it, standing still like a gargoyle. Towering golems. Winged panthers. One building had what looked like a mutated whale asleep on the roof, half-phased into the concrete.
Seojin walked into one of the largest buildings, straight through the sliding doors that hissed apart.
The interior was too clean. No scent. No sound except a soft ambient chime. Marble floors. Transparent panels. A long desk shaped like a crescent moon, with glowing keyboards and receptionist stations all lined up.
He approached the nearest one.
The receptionist didn't look up at first. She wore thin glasses, silver nails, and a headset. Her nametag read Min Seori. When she finally noticed him, her smile was polished and polite.
"Welcome to White Bell Guild. Do you have an appointment or are you here for evaluation?"
"Evaluation," Seojin said.
She nodded once and slid a scanner toward him. "Please place your ID chip on the surface and state your registered beast or contract name."
Seojin placed his ID down.
The scanner beeped. Then beeped again. Slower. Then it gave a final longer beep and flickered red.
The screen showed a flat line. Then text appeared:
Bonded Beast: [UNREGISTERED]
Core Compatibility: 0.00% (Previous Attempted Syncs: 4)Seori's expression didn't change, but her eyes definitely did.
A long pause. Then she cleared her throat and smiled again. It was the kind of smile you wear when a customer tries to return used underwear.
"I'm sorry. Did you say you were here for evaluation?"
Seojin didn't flinch. "Yeah."
"There must be a mistake," she said gently. "This system says you have no registered bond, no license, no Beast compatibility, and four prior failures."
"It's not a mistake," Seojin said.
She gave a little sigh.
"I see. I'm afraid we can't offer evaluations without at least a C-tier compatibility record or licensed Beast bond. Guild placements are highly competitive."
"I'm not asking for placement," he said. "Just to—"
She held up a hand.
"I understand. But you should know guilds aren't social clubs. They're not charities either. Without a registered Beast, you wouldn't qualify for our entry-level auxiliary program, let alone the full branch."
Seojin opened his mouth again.
She beat him to it.
"I'd recommend trying independent licenses. Or… perhaps one of the less centralized groups. I hear the Obsidian Fang Guild still accepts applicants like yourself."
Her voice dropped a half-tone. Softer, but definitely condescending.
"They take in all kinds. Misfits. Experimental types. Failed Bonds. That sort."
Seojin closed his mouth. He stared at the scanner.
Seori smiled again, back to business. "Would you like a flyer?"
He shook his head.
"Very well. Thank you for visiting White Bell."
He turned and walked away. Quietly. Calm.
As he hit the door, Fenrir grunted in his mind.
"She's lucky I'm in storage right now."
"Not now," Seojin muttered.
"I'd have eaten her. Slowly."
"Seriously. Not now."
But he was grinning just a little. Tight, at the edge of his mouth.
That guild name echoed in his head.
Obsidian Fang.
He tapped it into his phone and brought up the map.
Small-time. D-rank. Located on the edge of the old tech district.
A dozen reviews called them "eccentric" or "unorthodox."
One review just said: "They accepted me and trained me up even though I didn't have a bond at the time. "
Seojin stared at that line for a second. Then started walking.
"Let's go meet the weirdos," he said.
Fenrir growled low.
"They better have better food than broth."
The Obsidian Fang Guild didn't look like much.
Actually, it looked like a condemned internet café.
Seojin stood outside the narrow building, staring up at the cracked black sign, only half-lit from within. A faded fang emblem loomed over peeling glass. Someone had spray-painted a curse word across the front once, but it had been lazily scrubbed off.
He checked his phone again. The address matched.
A soft hum in his head came from Fenrir.
"This is where you're putting your faith?"
"No one else is taking applications from 'cursed nobodies,' remember?"
"Then I suppose I'll enjoy watching you get turned away again. You've gotten very good at rejection."
Seojin rolled his eyes and pushed the door open.
It creaked. Loudly.
Inside, the air was stale. A slow ceiling fan spun like it had arthritis. There was a front desk, but no one at it. Behind the desk, a couch had been dragged sideways to block out the back hallway. Crushed snack wrappers and a rolled-up newspaper sat in a pile by the desk's corner.
And behind that desk, in a recliner seat, lay a woman snoring like the world had ended and no one told her.
She was wrapped in a lumpy purple blanket. Her gray hair was tied in a bun that had long since given up holding form. Her chin was tucked into her chest. Drool slipped from the corner of her mouth.
And on her head, resting like a hairy crown, was a fat little bat-like creature with oversized ears and black, oily fur. It had its wings curled like a cloak and looked more alert than she did.
"Hello?" Seojin said.
No response.
He stepped forward. Cleared his throat. Knocked on the desk.
Nothing.
The bat opened one eye. Its ears twitched. Then it let out a squeaky bark and launched straight into the air — then crashed into the woman's head like a missile.
"GYAH—!"
She bolted upright, swinging one arm blindly in the air as the bat zipped around her face. She batted at it, missed, and yelled something that sounded like an ancient curse and a grocery list combined.
"You overgrown lice-ridden jacket, I said not the face! How many times—?!"
The bat chittered and flapped back onto her head like nothing had happened, looking smug.
She blinked, squinted toward the desk — and froze.
"Oh."
Her voice dropped from banshee rage to grandmother charm instantly.
"There's a person here."
Seojin nodded, holding up both hands like he was trying not to spook a wild animal.
"Yeah. Uh. Hi."
She cleared her throat, leaned forward, and squinted harder.
"You a delivery boy?"
"No. I'm here about the guild."
"Oh."
She reached for a chipped mug and took a sip of something that may have once been tea. Then smacked her lips thoughtfully.
"You're a kid."
Seojin opened his mouth to respond, but she waved him off.
"I know, I know, I got two of you already. Damned high schoolers think they're going to be S-rank legends. Alright, let's hear it."
Seojin hesitated.
"I'd like to join your guild."
The woman stared at him flatly for a long moment. Then she pointed at the wall behind him. He turned to see a mess of faded polaroids and yellowing papers stapled into corkboard.
"You see that?"
"Yeah."
"Every single idiot on that wall begged to join. Wanna guess how many are still alive?"
Seojin looked back at her. "…A lot?"
"Two."
The bat snorted from her head. She reached up and flicked its nose.
"Shut up. Your fault some of them quit."
She leaned back in the chair and gave him another look.
"You got a Beast?"
Seojin nodded slowly.
"Let's see it, then."
He glanced down, breathed out once, and flicked his hand. A ripple of violet light swept out from his fingers, and with a low echo of static, Fenrir materialized beside him in his compact, cute form.
The moment Fenrir stepped forward, the air in the room shifted. It dropped two degrees.
The woman's mug shook. The bat snapped upright, eyes wide, wings flaring in alarm.
Fenrir sat with his tail wrapped neatly, unblinking. Silent.
The Guild Master's face didn't shift at first. She leaned forward, studying the small form like it was a riddle.
"That's not a runt," she muttered. "That's an apex."
She stood and walked around the desk, slow and cautious. The bat lowered itself warily.
"What are you?" she whispered to Fenrir.
Fenrir's voice came into Seojin's head, amused.
"She smells like mold and iron. You sure she's the leader of this place?"
"She runs it. Be nice."
Fenrir tilted his head and stared at her like he was measuring her soul.
She finally nodded.
"Alright. Kid. That's some Beast. You didn't steal it, did you?"
Seojin blinked. "No."
"Good. I'm sure you'd be dead if you tried."
She rubbed her chin.
"You know what it is?"
"Not really."
"Good. Sometimes it's better that way."
She walked back behind the desk, sat, and kicked her feet up again.
"I'm the Guild Master of Obsidian Fang. My name's Yang Mirae. That little parasite on my head's called Soondae. Yes, like the blood sausage. He chose the name himself."
The bat made a rude noise.
Mirae ignored it.
"I train a few young ones on weekends. School get in the way?"
"A little," Seojin said.
"Well, tough. We work around it. You're in."
"…That's it?"
"That's it. You've got a killer in your back pocket. You're young. That means you can still be molded."
She stretched, then paused.
"But training costs money, and my VR room still smells like piss. You got anything to put down?"
Seojin pulled the folded check from his jacket pocket and handed it over.
She took it with a laugh, then went dead silent.
Her eyes scanned the number.
Then scanned it again.
Then again.
"…Where the hell did you get this?"
Seojin shrugged. "A reward. From someone."
She stared at him like he was a grenade she forgot to disarm.
"This is the kind of payout you get for clearing a six-layer Rift. What're you doing down here with me in the gutter?"
He didn't answer.
Eventually, she grinned. Wide and dangerous.
"Well, too late now. I'm taking it. You're funding our upgrades; we can probably even get a vending machine."
She grabbed a black scanner pad and held it out.
"ID, now."
He tapped his chip.
The scanner flickered.
Then glitched.
[Bonded Beast: UNKNOWN]
[System Integration: ERROR][User Type: ANOMALY][BestiaCore Connection: FLAGGED][Manual Override Initiated...]Mirae frowned.
"…That's a first."
"Is that bad?" Seojin asked.
She shrugged. "Probably nothing."
She slammed her thumb onto the confirm pad and grinned.
"Welcome to Obsidian Fang, kid."
"Just like that?"
"Just like that. Now go take a nap or something."
The system chimed in Seojin's head.
[Quest Complete]
[+5 Skill Upgrade Points Earned]Fenrir yawned inside his mind.
"She's strange."
"I think I like her," Seojin replied.
The bat on her head sneezed and muttered something in a language Seojin didn't know.
"Perfect," Fenrir said. "You've joined a madhouse."

Latest Chapter
Reflection and Bonds
The Obsidian Fang headquarters buzzed with activity, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows through the glass walls. Crates of equipment were scattered across the labs and halls, their contents half-unpacked, wires and mana conduits spilling out like veins of a growing beast. Seojin hefted a crate of training pads, his arms straining as he followed Mirae’s directions to a storage room. Yuna was a few steps ahead, balancing a box of tech components, her ponytail swinging with each step. Pyra perched on her shoulder, chirping indignantly whenever the box wobbled. The air smelled of metal and polish, undercut by the faint pine scent drifting in from the forest outside.“This is worse than training,” Yuna groaned, setting her crate down with a thud. “My arms are gonna fall off.”Mirae, leaning against a lab table cluttered with glowing monitors, smirked. “Quit whining, firecracker. You’re building character.”Seojin lowered his crate, wiping sweat from his brow. The work was grueling
Initial Evaluations and Synergy
The training room stretched wide and open, its high ceiling studded with retractable rings that gleamed faintly under the soft glow of rune-etched panels. The air buzzed with latent energy, a low hum from the tech embedded in the walls and floor. Combat dummies stood in neat rows near the center, their humanoid shapes crafted from magisteel and padded with reinforced foam, designed to take a beating from beasts and tamers alike. Holographic screens floated above each one, blank for now, waiting to display data. Targets and training equipment lined the edges of the room, some scarred with claw marks, others pristine and gleaming. The space felt alive, like it was holding its breath, ready for action.Mirae strode to a control panel set into the wall, her fingers dancing over the glowing interface. With a soft chime, the dummies lit up, their sensors glowing a faint blue, like the pulse of a heartbeat. Holograms flickered to life above them, showing baseline stats: durability,
Exploration and Evaluation
The truck’s engine rumbled low, a steady hum that vibrated through the metal floor. Crates and boxes, haphazardly stacked, shifted with every turn, their wooden edges scraping faintly against each other. Seojin sat cross-legged in the back, his shoulder pressed against a crate marked with the Obsidian Fang emblem, a white fang curled like a crescent moon. The air was warm, thick with the smell of oil and dust, and the narrow windows let in slivers of fading sunlight. Across from him, Yuna sprawled on her back, one leg kicked up on a crate, her phoenix, Pyra, perched delicately on her shoulder. The bird’s ember-lit feathers cast a soft, flickering glow, painting the truck’s interior in hues of orange and gold.Seojin’s fingers traced the edge of his guild jacket, the black fabric still feeling foreign on his shoulders. He wasn’t used to this, any of it. Not the jacket, not the guild, not the weight of Fenrir’s presence, even if the wolf was tucked away in his BestiaCore for now. The la
New Flames, New Fangs
The rest of the school day passed like fog.Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead. The kind that made your head ache if you sat too long under them. Class after class bled together — lectures, blackboards, the occasional spark from someone's bonded beast playing beneath a desk. A scaled tail here, a floating eyeball creature there.But all of it blurred to the edges.Seojin sat quiet, back straight, hands folded on the desk. Just like always.Except now… people noticed.The whispers didn't come in waves. They came in trickles — muttered names, side-eyes, darted glances toward his jacket.He caught one of the seniors in front of him squinting at his shoulder — the patch barely visible beneath the collar of his uniform. "Obsidian Fang," it read. Black thread on charcoal fabric. Barely noticeable unless you knew what to look for. But in a school like this, people noticed guild colors."Isn't he the one who—?""Didn't he fail his summon, like, four times?""I thought he was cursed?""Then wh
The Wolf Beneath the Skin
Seojin woke before his alarm. Not jolted or groggy, just there, awake, eyes open to the faint blue of early morning threading through the blinds.The apartment was still. The hum of the fridge, the occasional thump of a pipe, but otherwise… silence.He sat up, dragging the blanket off his legs. His uniform, freshly ironed, hung on the back of his door. Next to it, draped carefully on the same hook, was the jacket Mirae had given him.Black. Sleek. A little big in the shoulders, but it carried a weight he didn't want to take off.The insignia on the back — a white fang curled like a crescent moon — caught the early light just barely. It looked like it was breathing with him. Below it, stitched in faded thread across the sleeve:OBSIDIAN FANG: FIGHT WITH TEETHHe ran his fingers over it once. Then twice."I look stupid, don't I," he muttered to no one.From the rug near his closet, a familiar grumble stirred.Fenrir stretched lazily, his smaller form barely as tall as a beagle, but some
Wolf’s Thread
Yang Mirae didn't rise as Seojin returned from the back room. The old fan spun through hot air above her head, creaking with each rotation. Soondae, the bat beast, huddled on her head like a crown, mostly asleep.Seojin cleared his throat. Mirae grunted, shifted, then lazily reached behind the desk.From a stack of pillows she pulled a folded jacket, black and lean but clearly grown out of by someone long ago. Seojin sat it on the desk."It was my last recruit's," she said, voice crackling. "He grew three inches overnight and swore he'd never fit it again. Ended up getting drafted eventually."She squinted at Seojin. "You look like you could fit it plenty."Seojin took the jacket gently, unfolding it. It was surprisingly light, lined inside with a thin layer of reinforced fabric. On the back, a faded white emblem—a wolf fang curled into a crescent. The sleeve had a sewn patch: Obsidian Fang: Fight With Teeth.He slipped it on. It fit loosely but comfortably. The sleeves were slightly
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