Chapter-8

The sound of dripping water filled the quiet hotel room.

Alejandro stepped out of the steaming bathroom, a towel draped over his shoulders as he dried his damp hair. The hot shower had helped ease the lingering tension in his muscles after the dungeon, but his mind was still restless.

Just as he tossed the towel onto a chair, his phone buzzed.

—

[New Message – Hunter Association]

"Hunter Alejandro Vargas,

You are required to report to the Hunter Association Headquarters in Rome for a formal debriefing regarding Dungeon #A1-045.

Be punctual.

Rome Hunter Association"

—

Alejandro exhaled. Well, that was fast. He expected a follow-up, but not this soon.

Whatever had happened inside that dungeon, the Association wasn't wasting time.

Alejandro didn't rush, but he didn't waste time either.

If the Hunter Association was calling him in this quickly, it meant they either wanted answers or had something more concerning to discuss. Either way, showing up late wasn't an option.

He pulled on a black button-up shirt, rolling the sleeves just enough to keep things comfortable. A dark blazer went over it, paired with well-fitted slacks and polished shoes.

It was a balance between formal and casual—enough to look professional without trying too hard.

Satisfied, he grabbed his phone, wallet, and Hunter ID before heading out.

Rome was as lively as ever.

From the window of his taxi, he watched the familiar streets pass by—old buildings standing proudly beside modern structures, tourists flooding the sidewalks, and hunters moving in small groups, discussing recent dungeon activity.

Even with the world changed by dungeons, the heart of Rome remained the same: ancient, bustling, and full of stories.

The ride wasn't long. In about fifteen minutes, the taxi pulled up to an imposing skyscraper near the city center.

The Hunter Association Headquarters.

A sleek, modern building standing tall among the historic architecture, its glass exterior reflecting the afternoon sun.

Alejandro paid the driver and stepped out, rolling his shoulders before heading inside.

The lobby was spacious, clean, and effortlessly professional.

Hunters and staff moved with purpose, conversations blending into a low hum of activity. Large digital screens displayed real-time dungeon alerts and rankings, while a few security personnel stood watch near the entrance.

As soon as Alejandro stepped in, someone was already waiting for him.

A young woman in a perfectly tailored black suit stood near the reception desk.

She had the unmistakable features of an Italian beauty—sharp green eyes, high cheekbones, and chestnut brown hair tied into a neat ponytail.

Her expression was calm but focused, the type of person who never wasted time.

She glanced at her tablet, then at him.

"Hunter Alejandro Vargas?" Her voice was smooth, professional, and carried a slight Roman accent.

Alejandro gave a casual nod. "That's me."

She motioned for him to follow. "This way. The debriefing will begin shortly."

Without another word, she turned and walked toward the elevators, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor. Alejandro followed, mentally preparing himself.

Whatever the Association wanted from him, he was about to find out.

Chapter 8: A Summons from the Association (Part 3)

The elevator doors closed with a soft chime, and the woman beside Alejandro pressed the button for the third floor.

As the lift began its smooth ascent, an awkward silence settled between them.

Alejandro wasn't one to stay quiet for long.

"So, do I get to know the name of my guide, or do I just call you 'Miss Hunter Association'?" he asked, glancing at her with a smirk.

She barely reacted, only shifting her green eyes toward him before responding, "Valeria Russo."

"Nice to meet you, Valeria," he said casually. "Do you handle a lot of these meetings?"

"Occasionally," she replied, maintaining her composed demeanor. "But my primary role is administrative and support work. I'm not a field agent like you."

Alejandro raised an eyebrow. "So you're a Hunter, but you work behind a desk?"

"I prefer stability," she said, adjusting her tablet. "I may be D-rank, but I don't take unnecessary risks. Not everyone is chasing glory or ranks."

Alejandro nodded. It made sense. Not all Hunters were warriors—some focused on logistics, research, or dungeon analytics.

"Fair enough," he said. "But if you had to go on a hunt, what's your specialty?"

A small, almost imperceptible smirk crossed her lips. "Sniping. But let's hope I never have to prove it to you."

Alejandro chuckled. "I'll keep that in mind."

The elevator stopped with a soft ding, and the doors slid open.

"This way," Valeria said, stepping forward.

The corridor was lined with frosted glass windows and sleek wooden doors, each labeled with silver plaques. At the end of the hall, Valeria stopped in front of Room 311.

She tapped on the door twice before pushing it open.

"Hunter Alejandro Vargas has arrived."

As she stepped aside, Alejandro got his first look inside.

The room was a conference-style office with a long black table, dim lighting, and floor-to-ceiling windows offering a view of the Roman skyline. Three men were waiting inside and their presence was heavy.

The first man sat at the head of the table, his hands folded neatly in front of him. A distinguished-looking Italian in his late 50s, wearing an expensive dark suit and an air of absolute authority.

Even without an introduction, Alejandro could tell, this was the Chairman of Italy's Hunter Association. His name was Alessandro Vieri—an S-rank Hunter whose influence extended far beyond Italy. Unlike most S-ranks, his strength wasn't just in brute force but in leadership, tactics, and overwhelming presence.

To his right, sitting with his arms crossed, was Leonardo Moretti.

He still wore his usual confident smirk, but his eyes held curiosity and amusement as he watched Alejandro enter.

And finally, standing near the window was another towering figure. A man with scarred arms, a thick beard, and golden wolf-like eyes that seemed to pierce right through anyone in his gaze.

Dario Luciani the Guildmaster of Iron Fangs.

A different kind of S-rank, one built purely for combat and carnage. His golden, wolf-like eyes reflected raw battle instinct, and from the way his muscles tensed even while standing still, Alejandro could tell that this man lived to fight.

The atmosphere around him was intense, like a predator observing its prey.

Alejandro didn't need to ask who he was.

This had to be the Guildmaster of Iron Fang—and another S-rank Hunter.

But if Alejandro had to bet on who was stronger between the two S-ranks in the room…

The Chairman would win.

As the door closed behind him, the Chairman finally spoke, his voice calm yet commanding.

"Take a seat, Hunter Vargas."

Alejandro stepped forward, keeping his expression neutral.