Silent Night (1)

The night air was crisp, the remnants of lingering embers fading into the darkness as Ray stood in the alleyway, still adjusting to the surge of power coursing through his body. The Authority of Flame pulsed within him, the raw intensity of his newly awakened strength settling into his core. The tower's trial was over. Aym had acknowledged him, marking him as worthy.

But there was no time to celebrate.

Ray exhaled, steadying his breathing. The Hunter Association. That was his next stop.

As he strode through the dimly lit streets, his mind raced through possibilities. Xander. The name carried weight—a gatekeeper to greater strength. In past lives, Xander had been an obstacle, a judge, and eventually an ally. A man who understood the climb from the bottom to the peak better than most.

Ray had spoken to him before. Many times.

But never this early. Never while he was still weak.

The Weight of a Single Conversation

In his previous loops, Ray had risen to S-Rank before ever meeting Xander face-to-face. By then, their conversations had been equal exchanges. Two titans of strength acknowledging one another. A simple nod had been enough for Xander to grant him unrestricted access to rifts—the ultimate key to growth.

But now?

Now, he was F-Rank. A nobody. Barely worth a second glance.

If he walked in unprepared, Xander would dismiss him outright. Worse, he might start digging. And that was the last thing Ray could afford.

Every word mattered. Every expression, every pause. He couldn't reveal too much. Couldn't let slip any knowledge that an F-Rank shouldn't possess. One wrong move, one inconsistency, and everything could unravel.

Ray's footsteps slowed as he reached a quiet intersection. The gas-lit lanterns flickered, casting long shadows across the cobblestone road.

He needed a strategy.

Past Lives, Past Mistakes

He had already had this conversation—just in different circumstances. Twelve times.

Each time, he had learned something new.

Attempt 1

"I want to register for solo rift expeditions under the Association's name."

Xander had barely looked up. "And? You and every other hunter."

Ray had pushed too hard, too fast.

"I've handled rifts alone before."

"Maybe you have," Xander had said, "but regulations exist for a reason. If I let one hunter slide, I'd have to let all of them."

End of discussion.

Attempt 2 

Ray had waited this time. He climbed first, then approached.

"You need capable solo hunters. I can fill that role."

Xander had considered it but ultimately refused.

"Your record is good, but rules are rules. If you want to go alone, you need to be in a guild or a higher rank."

A delay. Unacceptable.

Attempt 3 

At S-Rank, it had been effortless.

"I work better alone."

"I know," Xander had said, smirking. "Do as you please."

But this time, he didn't have the luxury of waiting.

A Different Approach

The rules had changed. Rift access was now locked behind guilds. Only recognized guilds or Association-licensed teams could enter freely.

And Ray had no guild.

The Association had two requirements for forming one:

Be a high rank. (Impossible. Climbing would take too long.)Complete the Guild Establishment Course. (A years-long process—also unacceptable.)

That meant he needed an exception.

Xander had the authority to grant it. But he wouldn't do so for nothing.

Ray needed to frame it as a benefit to the Association, not a favor to him.

A proposition, not a request.

The Hunter Association's headquarters loomed ahead—a fortress of stone and steel, bustling even at this late hour. Hunters came and went, the air thick with the scent of sweat, blood, and steel. Laughter, shouting, the distant clang of weapons.

Ray didn't take the front entrance.

Instead, he slipped through the alley beside the building, vanishing into the shadows. Security was tight—but flawed.

He knew every blind spot. Every unguarded passage. In past lives, he had exploited them all.

A forgotten maintenance hatch. A blind patrol route. A ventilation shaft no one checked.

With practiced ease, he moved through the hidden paths like a ghost. Within minutes, he emerged in a dimly lit hallway on the third floor—just outside Xander's office.

His heart pounded once.

Then he raised his hand and knocked.

A pause.

Then a voice—calm, composed, and powerful.

"Enter."

Ray pushed open the door.

Xander sat behind a polished wooden desk, silver hair neatly combed back, sharp eyes scanning documents with precision. The room was dim, lit only by a few hanging lanterns. The scent of old parchment and ink filled the air.

Xander didn't look up immediately. Testing him.

Then, with a flick of his gaze, he acknowledged Ray's presence.

An F-Rank. No appointment. No announcement.

Most people would have been dismissed on the spot.

But Ray wasn't most people.

Xander finally set his papers down. His expression remained unreadable, but his sharp eyes measured Ray carefully.

"You're either very confident or very stupid." His voice was neutral. "Which is it?"

Ray smiled faintly. "Whichever gets me through that door."

A flicker of amusement crossed Xander's face before vanishing.

"You have my attention. Speak."

Ray exhaled.

Now came the hard part.