Shun

  I stepped out of the portal, my inside seethed from the shift, but the nauseous feeling settled quickly, as I stepped forward, an associate already there to greet me, our meeting was brief, they were informed before hand that I will be arriving and they gave me the access pass that will help me better commute in central London.

  I took my hunter license back, with a silent nod, I strode to the front gates and made my way out.

  Even before I could take one step outside, I felt it, the sensation was mild at first, almost imperceptible, but like a nail being dug into my skin and being jerked to rip it open.

  I followed the trail of mana that made way to somewhere miles away, but the fluctuations and tremors in the air, visible in the ambient mana made it easier for me identify the gate that I had been briefed on.

  But, it wasn’t as bad I made of it. The general public who weren’t as hypersensitive of the mana around them couldn’t sense what I was feeling. The tremors and numbness caused by the currents of the unstable mana released from the gate miles away...

  ‘If I can feel them from miles away, just what would be the situation up close.’ I thought, my gaze moving from the pedestrians to the buildings up front.

  I withdrew my phone from my pocket and checked the location I needed to reach in order to meet the commander in charge of the mission this once.

  With that, I made way deeper into the streets. But, the streets of London were as alive as ever—as if, the people were ignorant about the threat that loomed above their heads—, bustling with activity and drenched in the kind of energy I could neither comprehend nor care to embrace.

  It had been a year since master’s death, and I still carried the weight of it, though by now it had settled into a quiet, suffocating familiarity. Percy’s loss, however, was fresh—too fresh. His laughter still echoed in my ears, his confident steps trailing behind me during missions. Now it was silent. Dead silent.

  But, my coincidental meeting with Fujimoto had surfaced some emotions I’d been trying to suppress all along.

  With a sigh, I took heavy steps, avoiding the crowd.

  With each step I took, the city seemed to mock my solitude. Every face I passed wore an expression of life, of purpose. I envied them, perhaps, but mostly I despised them. They knew nothing of what it meant to carry the dead with you, step by step, heartbeat by heartbeat. My commander had warned me to take time, to stay behind, but I couldn’t. If I stayed still, I might have shattered into a million pieces, and there would be no one left to pick them up. So I was here, walking these damned streets, heading toward a dungeon subjugation I shouldn’t have taken alone.

  Just as I moved, my phone rang, I wasn’t interested in answering it, ignoring the call, until it rang for the third time, and I saw Han had been persistent.

  I answered the call, and his voice boomed across the device. “Shun, where the hell are you?”

  My face remained impassive, cutting through the crowd as I maintained my silence for a second longer before relying.

  “I needed some time to cool off. I don’t think meeting the others under the current circumstances would be ideal or change anything.” I said, indifference dripping through each syllable. “Morris was the same. We gave me some time off. You all should rest before any big mission comes kissing on our doormat.”

  There was no response from Han, but all I heard was a sigh. “Do you really think I will buy into that?” He said, his word sharp but not unkind. I knew he had already caught on to my lie. “After knowing you all this time, I already figured when you disappeared yesterday without letting anyone know, that you are on some mission. Morris isn’t opening his mouth. So, where are you?”

  I almost smiled, but in the end, my expression was filled with complicated emotions. “Once everything is over, I’ll be back, I promise. Take care of the others for me, Han.” I whispered into the phone, and I could already hear Han grumbling, but before he could say anything more I cut the call and turned my phone off.

  I didn’t have a need to use my phone. After meeting Fujimoto, I had gotten a few calls from him, but I didn’t have the courage to talk to him.

  I kept my expression cold, my eyes fixed ahead. The din of conversations, the screech of cars and other vehicles, and the rhythmic pounding of footsteps blurred into white noise. The world around me was vibrant, moving, and alive, but it felt like staring into a painting—beautiful in its own right but utterly detached from me.

  As I made my way toward the rendezvous point, something caught my eye—a flower shop tucked between two modest stone buildings. It was a quaint little place, the kind of spot you might miss if you weren’t paying attention. The sign above the door was simple, painted in soft pastels with delicate script that read “Azure Blooms.”

  People came and went through the shop, clutching bouquets of all sizes. Lovers, friends, perhaps even strangers buying blooms to pay respects to their dead. I stopped for a moment, I didn’t know why, but something about the place made me stop, my gaze wandering over the shop’s exterior. It was lovely in a way—a subtle contrast to the grim, grey surroundings of the city. The window displays were vibrant, the flowers inside meticulously arranged into patterns meant to evoke happiness or comfort, though I couldn’t feel either.

  I stepped closer, peering through the glass. Inside, the place was brimming with colour—reds, yellows, violets, and whites spilling from countless vases and shelves. The arrangements were artful, each petal placed with care—they had been nursed with the utmost care one could give—,but to me, they looked lifeless. Dull. Their colours bled together, unremarkable and muted in my eyes.

  I wasn’t sure what drew my attention next—the motion or the figure behind it. A florist was there, a young woman with blonde hair tied back loosely, strands of it framing her face. Her azure eyes glimmered faintly even in the dim light of the shop. She moved with a purpose, helping customers with a smile that seemed too radiant for a place like this. Her hands worked deftly, wrapping bouquets in soft paper, tying ribbons, arranging stems.

  For a brief moment, her gaze lifted, and our eyes met through the window. It was fleeting, no more than a second, but it was enough to catch a flicker of something—curiosity, perhaps, or the faint shadow of concern. I couldn’t be sure.

  I looked away first. The world moved again around me as I turned my back to the shop and continued walking, my steps mechanical and steady.

  What was it that drew people to places like that? To flowers that would wither in days, to fleeting moments of beauty that meant nothing in the grand scheme of things? Perhaps it was the very fragility that gave them meaning. Or maybe they were just desperate to cling to life in whatever form it took.

  I wasn’t sure I understood anymore.

  The cobblestones beneath my boots felt rough, uneven, as if the city itself was warning me to stop, to turn back. But I wouldn’t. The mission awaited, and it was the only thing keeping me upright.

  Still, the image of the florist lingered in my mind for a moment longer. Her radiant smile, her hands, her eyes. It wasn’t the beauty of it all that struck me, but the absurdity. How could someone live so earnestly in a world as bitter as this one?

  I shook the thought away as the crowd thickened around me, pulling me deeper into its tide. There was no room for distractions. The dungeon wouldn’t wait, and I had no intention of letting it. Not today. Not ever.

  ***

  Soon, I reached the guild where the commander in charge of the rank gate’s mission was. I showed my pass to the guards outside, they gave me a look, and then allowed me entry.

  I stepped inside without hurried steps, before I could reach the guild’s reception, I was approached by a petit looking woman.

  She was shorter than me, barely reaching up to my chest, her creamy brunette locks were shortened into a bob cut, her eyes examined me keenly. Straightening her suit, she brought her hand forward, and I shook it as she greeted me.

  “You must be Mr. Amamiya Shun.” She said, her eyes locking on to me. “My name is Lily Grace. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m a leading executive of the guild for operations.”

  I simply gave her a nod, looking around the hall and noticing some strong hunters sitting or either standing. There were some who were engaged with associates just like me.

  I almost let an awkward expression slip pass, my eyes giving an almost judgemental stare.

  She looked like she could pass for a high schooler. Am I becoming prejudice? Maybe...

  Lily caught my gaze and spoke. “I believe you must have been briefed already over why you were sent here. I was also informed about you Mr. Shun and your track record. Your achievement have been nothing short of extraordinary. And your recent mission in Singapore has been the talk of the town even among hunters and guild associates here.”

  I gave her words no further acknowledgement—being reminded of that place brought back bad memories—, before adding. “I was told I needed to report to the commander in charge. I believe the guild-master of Dexus is the one I have to meet.”

  Lily nodded in agreement, her head moving a little faster than I thought. Her excitement oozing out. “Yes. I was told to guide you to his office directly when you arrived. Please follow me.”

  I fell in line behind Lily as she guided me through the hall and to the elevator. We entered as the doors hummed open and she pressed the floor where the guild-master was.

  Soon the elevator began to ascent, but something was pestering me along the way.

  There were others hunters present too, and still why was I asked to meet the guild-master directly? Even Morris, my own general had told me to meet him, as if there was something Alger Frensby had plotted.

  I couldn’t be sure right now...maybe it was just out of curiosity...

  I felt cautious, my usual wariness washed over me and I spoke to get a general idea, whether Lily knew something before meeting Alger to devise a plan.

  “Miss Lily, did the other hunters called from other battalions or guilds outside of England told to meet Alger Frensby?” I asked, not trying to be interrogative in tone, giving a slightly curious vibe on purpose. “I don’t see otherwise why the guild-master of the second strongest guild in England would like to meet some random rank hunter?” I added more emphasis on my last words trying to stir some response out of her.

  Because currently, I was an rank who was linked to an organisation directly overseeing the jurisdiction of the hunter society, making me a freebie for the guilds and other organisations.

  If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

  Because, even if solo hunters could join the world-union dealing with the hunter society—as the overseeing government—, the hunters could still be recruited by guilds under the governing law that gives hunters full immunity over these decisions.

  In my case, general Morris might have had the right to order me around, but that authority came from the World-Union, not from me owning him anything. The law was clear—hunters weren’t bound to nations, not even to the Union itself—Article 7 made that clear enough. I was under their jurisdiction, sure, but never in their chains. Which meant a party, a guild with enough benefits and ambition, could just as easily try to pull me into their ranks.

  Lily looked above her shoulder, unsure. “All I was informed about was to greet you and be your guide until you reach the guild-master’s office. Any further, I’m not aware.” She said, muttering an apology under her breath as she turned silent along the way.

  Without wasting anytime, we reached the office, Lily sped past me and knocked on the door gently, soon after a crisp voice came from the other side as she let me enter.

  I didn’t focus on the office too much, it was just like any simple high-end study but giving a business formal vibe. It felt suffocating despite the sunlight coming from the windows, but I entered.

  Behind me the door closed and I saw two individuals rise from their seats.

  I laid eyes on Alger sitting on a single sofa at the other end of the coffee table, but my eyes scanned the other man present, sitting to Alger’s right.

  Joshua Heartman. The vice guild-master of Dexus guild.

  His cream-colored hair was styled to near perfection, not a strand out of place, but his face still carried the youth of someone in their late twenties. Amber eyes fixed on me, sharp and deliberate, scanning me from head to toe with a gaze that was both measuring and intrusive.

  For all that scrutiny, his presence was carefully veiled—his mana kept in check, suppressed to the point of subtlety. Still, I wasn’t fooled. The way purified mana threaded along his skin like faint streams of light gave him away—I didn’t even have to use Mind’s Eye to see whether I was right or not. He was on the cusp of the intervening stage of rank, a step beneath his guild-master, who already lingered at the border of rank itself.

  But immediately, my gaze went back to Alger Frensby, the guild-master of Dexus, who carried the air of a man weathered by both command and battle. His ginger hair caught the light, trimmed neatly enough to show discipline but wild enough to hint at a stubborn streak. A beard, well-kept yet rugged, framed his strong jaw. His eyes—grey touched with teal—were sharp but not unkind, complimenting the strength in his features. Broad-shouldered and standing half a head taller than me, he seemed to fill the space without trying.

  When he reached out his hand, I noticed the thick callouses etched into his skin, the marks of years spent wielding steel rather than ink. His grip was firm, steady, carrying weight without aggression. And when he smiled, the stern edges of his presence softened, inviting me to sit with him and Joshua as though I already belonged.

  I took the seat on the sofa opposite him, finding no comfort in it as I sat.

  “I am delighted that you accepted my invitation, Hunter Shun.” He said, his elbow resting on the armrest and cheek supported by it. “I thought Morris would send someone else—but again, he doesn’t have that many ranks under him—given the circumstances of the current mission his teams had been assigned to just a few days ago. Are you alright to be doing this mission?”

  I took a breath, feeling no reason to share pleasantries with him. I didn’t own him anything, and he had been the one to call me here.

  “I understand your concern for the mission, but my performance will not be affected if that is what’s bothering you, Alger Frensby.” I said sternly, my words sharp, cutting through the silence like daggers. “But, I don’t understand why you wanted to meet me? I don’t find it reason enough that you wanted to meet me just out of curiosity? Do you?” I raised a brow and felt Joshua blatantly looking at me.

  A coy smile left Alger, his eyes looked delighted. “Yes, of course. I should have made my intentions clear before requesting your presence.”

  Alger leaned forward, folding his hands. “You see, Hunter Shun, talent and power of your kind is rarely…unclaimed. The Union might register you, but they do not bind you. And Morris—well, Morris can only keep you so long as you allow it. That freedom leaves opportunities, for men like you…and for guilds like mine.”

  My gaze sharpened, leaning back in my seat. “So this is about recruitment?”

  A chuckle left him, smooth and deliberate. “Not recruitment, no. Let’s call it…a proposition. Dexus does not kneel to the Alexanderias, and neither, I suspect, do you to the Union. I simply wanted to see if our ambitions aligned.”

  He leaned into his seat, legs crossed, a smile over his features. “And, to be honest with you, I had specifically asked Morris to send you here. That’s how much I have heard about your capabilities, Hunter Shun.”

  He let the silence fester for a moment longer before continuing. “And, why you? Because I mean to make Dexus the strongest guild in England, and then the world. Power like yours doesn’t pass unnoticed, Hunter Shun. If I am to rise, I need men who can turn the tide of wars—not just close dungeons.”

  So that was it.

  Ambition, plain and bare. He wanted to climb higher, to eclipse Icarion—the strongest guild in England which held just as much influence as the royal family of Alexanderias. Which made me wonder…if this mission was so important, why wasn’t it handed to Icarion in the first place? The strongest guild in England refusing a call—now that was interesting.

  But from what I’d heard, moving the guild-master of Icarion was a task none could manage—not even the Union. Mikhael was a keen and dangerous man, not for his politics or his connections, but because of what he’d built with his own hands. A mage-type beast tamer, and yet he had dragged a guild from the dirt to the pinnacle of England and then the union rankings. His rule was absolute: only beast tamers could be recruited. Only on rare occasions did he make exceptions for hunters of other callings. That was Mikhael’s strength—unyielding, singular, and all the more dangerous for it.

  But what reason could Mikhael have to refuse? An -rank gate was a fortune, the kind of prize guilds bled each other for. Politics with the royal family? Maybe. He had the luxury to ignore their leash. Still…letting such an opportunity go? That wasn’t like a man who’d dragged a guild from dirt to the summit. Unless…unless he knew something the rest of us didn’t.

  Either way, the scraps had fallen to Dexus…and to me.

  I made myself look like I was in deep thought, taking a deep breath, but I had already come to the decision to refuse him the moment he had spoken about his reasons for calling me.

  I knew ranks were important, and even recruiting one more could shift the power dynamics of a guild by a lot. But, I had no interest in their politics.

  Finally, I have my answer. “I’d have to refuse your offer.”

  Alger didn’t look the slightest bit distraught, rather he maintained his casual and friendly expression from earlier.

  He sighed, his face turned in disappointment. “Well, nothing I can do if you refuse outright.” He said with a smile. “Still, just think about my offer.” He then turned to Joshua by his side and spoke.

  “And while we are at the topic, why don’t we discuss the specifics of the rank gate’s raid.” He added, his back straight. “Joshua will be leading the first raid team, while there are other squadrons for the members selected by our guild, and many hunters who have been sent from the outside because this dungeon seems to have a risk factor for being one of the stronger rank gates.”

  I nodded along as Joshua began to explain about the specifics of how the teams will be divided and how solo hunters such as myself will be placed to coordinate with the teams.

  The meeting went on for a while, we added several factors that could make for problems moving forward, but he settled on them quickly and moved on.

  After an hour later, I found myself outside the guild building, having discussed everything with Alger and Joshua, I was still having doubts about his real goal.

  In this world, it was right to be ambitious, and I didn’t scorn Alger if he wanted to rise to such a rank. But, I couldn’t just come to get a good feelings from this...

  But, I focused on general Morris’s words. Go in, complete the mission, get out.

  I looked into the far distance, already feeling the fluctuations increase each second.

  They had decided to start the raid a few days from now. That’s the shortest amount of time for them to get everything prepared for a gate such as this one.

  It might take more time if there are delays. I thought.

  I was already prepared, because I was already used to it, the kind of thing I could do on autopilot. But as I made my way back through the streets of London, taking the same route I’d walked earlier, I found myself slowing down as the flower shop came into view once more.

  The sign, ‘Azure Blooms,’ hung under the soft orange light of dusk, its pastel letters slightly dimmer now. The shop wasn’t as busy as before; only a few customers lingered inside, their chatter faintly audible. The window displays remained the same—rows of flowers carefully arranged to show off their best colours, their most vibrant petals.

  I hesitated. But, this time my feet moved of their own accord, pulling me closer to the shop as if I had no say in the matter. But I didn’t walk in. Instead, I stood just outside, keeping to the shadows near the corner of the building. For a reason I couldn’t name, I felt the need to remain unseen, to hide as I glanced at the flowers through the glass.

  What was it about these flowers that people found so captivating? They were temporary, fleeting things that would inevitably wither and die. Wasn’t it a waste of time and effort to nurture something so impermanent? My gaze settled on a cluster of pale blue blossoms near the window, their delicate petals catching the last light of the day.

  Before I could think further, I felt it—a presence behind me, warm and unmistakable. My body stiffened as I turned, only to see her again.

  The florist.

  She stood at my flank, her blonde hair catching the glow of the dusk sky, her azure eyes sparkling with a light that felt oddly out of place in this dreary city. A soft smile graced her lips as she tilted her head slightly, observing me with a mix of curiosity and amusement.

  I jumped, instinctively taking a step back. “I—” My voice faltered, and I cleared my throat, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

  Her smile widened, but she didn’t comment on my reaction. Instead, she greeted me warmly, her tone light and pleasant. “Good evening. I noticed you looking at the flowers earlier. Are you interested in them?”

  I stiffened further, my voice coming out awkward and stiff. “Not particularly. They just…caught my eye as I was passing by.”

  She didn’t seem bothered by my abruptness. Instead, she glanced at the flowers I’d been inspecting. “Ah, those are snowbells,” she said, reaching out to adjust one of the blooms. “They’re winter flowers. They bloom when most others can’t survive the cold, and they last all the way until spring. They’re strong in their own way, but delicate too. When they’re in full bloom, their petals almost seem to glow in the snow.”

  Her words were soft, almost reverent, and for a moment, I found myself listening despite myself. My expression remained deadpan, but I watched her as she spoke, her fingers brushing the petals lightly, as if handling something precious.

  She paused, then turned back to me with a sheepish grin. “Oh, my bad. I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Rachael. You are?”

  “Shun,” I replied simply, my tone curt.

  “Shun.” She repeated my name, her smile brightening as though she’d just learned something wonderful. It was disarming, how cheerful she was, and I found myself feeling even more awkward under her gaze.

  “Well, Shun, I think I saw you earlier outside the shop this afternoon. You were looking at the flowers so keenly, so I thought you might be interested,” she said, adjusting a nearby pot on the shelf.

  “It’s not that I’m interested,” I said, my voice flat.

  Her gaze softened, and she turned to me, a thoughtful look in her eyes. “Even if they caught your attention for just a second, then it was worth taking care of them,” she said gently. “I believe flowers are one of the few things that resonate with people’s feelings and emotions.”

  She began pointing at different flowers in the shop, explaining their meanings—the red roses for love, the yellow tulips for cheer, the violets for loyalty. I stood there in silence, my face unreadable as I listened. Her voice carried an infectious enthusiasm, her passion for these fleeting, delicate things evident in every word.

  But, despite all of it, I found myself reeled in, I felt like some weight was being lifted from over me as I focused on her voice, the movement of her lips and the care with which he spoke of the flowers.

  It was almost…as if, for a brief moment, the world’s noise dimmed alongside the burdens I thought I had to carry, and all that remained was her voice tethering me to something I didn’t know I’d been searching for.

  After a few minutes, she glanced at me apologetically, a blush graced her cheeks and I couldn’t help but smile. “I’m sorry. I seem to have rambled on for too long.”

  I shook my head slightly. “No, it’s fine. You seem to know quite a lot about flowers.”

  She smiled again, this time softer, more nostalgic. “Yes, my mother loved them. She used to work with flowers all the time and these are the last things she left me. I guess I inherited her fascination.”

  “I see,” I said quietly, my gaze drifting to the interior of the shop, not being able to find the words to console her when I couldn’t myself. The warmth of it, the faint scent of blossoms in the air—it was a stark contrast to the cold, unfeeling world outside.

  I turned back to her, a thought forming before I could stop it. “Then, can you round up some flowers that represent longing?”

  Rachael blinked, surprised for a moment, before nodding with a knowing smile. “Of course. Give me a moment.”

  She moved with practiced ease, picking out blooms and tying them together with care. I watched her work, her back turned to me as she hummed softly under her breath. For some reason, the sight of her—calm, focused, and entirely at ease—made the weight on my chest feel a little lighter.

  And for the first time in a long while, I didn’t mind staying still.

  It didn’t take her long before the bouquet was ready, and she walked back, her hands gently handling the flowers as he passed the bouquet to me.

  I took it and reached to pay her, but I was in a dilemma...I had no currency used in this country.

  Seeing my change in expression, Rachael smiled and spoke. “Don’t worry, these are a gift,” she said, her smile soft but certain. “Consider it a present—for someone who looks like they could use a little brightness—, plus a smile.” She laughed, but I couldn’t find bring myself to be mad at her, I felt relieved.

  I found my hand reaching for my chest, where there was nothing, yet I felt an ache. Her infectious enthusiasm had started to affect me too, seeping past the walls I’d built. It was unfamiliar…and almost unsettling. But...not a bad feeling nonetheless.