EPISODE THREE - 2

The sky was a soft wash of orange, the sun dipping low behind the city skyline, its rays stretching like golden threads over the quiet neighborhood.

A white van rolled to a slow stop in front of a modest, aged house.

The door slid open with a metallic scrape.

Kaede stepped out, bandages winding up his hand and over his legs, the rough fabric peeking out from under his loose-fit jeans. Every movement pulled at healing wounds, but he barely winced. The real pain wasn't physical.

"Kaede! Careful, you'll open up the stitches!"

His grandmother rushed over, her geta clacking against the stone path, her greying hair pinned into a neat bun. Her wrinkled hands fluttered nervously, reaching to steady him as he limped toward the wooden porch. The scent of miso soup drifted from inside, warm and familiar.

"I'm fine, Obaasan," Kaede muttered, forcing a smile.

But his mind was elsewhere.

As he settled onto the tatami mat inside, the sliding door groaning shut behind him, his fingers itched to pull up the invisible interface only he could see.

Ping.

A holographic window flickered into view, pale blue numbers dancing in the air.

[Health: 55%]

Stamina : 35/120

Speed : 12/120

Energy : 25/150

Immunity : Stable

[Death Log: 2/1000]

He narrowed his eyes. Near-death experiences weren't enough. He'd learned that the hard way—falling off a rooftop, standing in front of a speeding car, even overdosing on caffeine pills. But his last "death courter (magic barrier against projectile) " kept default protecting him, snapping him back before the fatal blow however this came with huge consequences, his health status depleted incredibly, he figured the system didn't like such acts perhaps those were meant to caution him.

It won't let me end it on my own terms.

"Kaede, here."

His grandmother slid a glass of juice across the table. Pale orange liquid sloshed against the rim—yuzu juice, its tart aroma sharp in the air.

"You've been drinking this non-stop. You sure you're not sick of it?" she teased, raising a brow.

Kaede chuckled lightly. "It's healthy, right?"

But the truth? The juice had subtle healing properties—a rare find he'd stumbled across, buried in an obscure online forum for hunters. It boosted minor recovery rates, masking his unnatural healing speed from his grandmother's watchful eye.

He sipped, letting the citrusy tang burn his throat, but his gaze drifted to the low wooden table now cluttered with bills. Hospital fees. Utility notices. Rent reminders.

His chest tightened. A week... I've been home a week, and she's drowning in this.

The cursor blinked at the corner of his interface, as if mocking him. No job. No purpose. Still a leech.

He stood abruptly, the juice glass clinking against the table.

"Kaede?"

"I'll... figure something out," he said, eyes dark with determination.

That night, while his grandmother slept, her soft snores drifting through the thin shoji walls, Kaede sat cross-legged under the dim glow of his desk lamp. His laptop buzzed as endless job listings scrolled across the screen.

[Convenience Store Clerk – ¥850/hr]

[Delivery Driver – Own Bike Required]

[Café Barista – No Hunters]

Most jobs barely scratched survival wages. And the better-paying ones? All prioritized registered hunters.

"Hunting's the new frontier," he muttered, leaning back. "Of course, everyone's cashing in."

Hunters made headlines daily—men and women tearing through dungeons, earning fat bounties for monster cores. Ever since the gates started opening a decade ago, society had shifted. Construction workers, salarymen, even high schoolers—it didn't matter. If you could swing a sword or sling a spell, you could make more than a white-collar worker in a week.

I could be one of them.

His hand hovered over the trackpad, then clicked:

[Guild Registration & Assessment – Open Tomorrow, 9AM]

The next morning, sunlight pooled through the rice-paper windows, golden and soft.

"Kaede!" His grandmother gasped, nearly dropping her teacup.

He stood in the doorway, all bandages gone. His posture was straighter, his skin clear, his eyes sharp with a confidence she hadn't seen in years.

"You—you're healed? Already?"

"No time to explain," Kaede grinned. "I'm going to get a job."

"B-but—"

Before she could stop him, he was already slipping on his sneakers, the door sliding shut with a sharp clack.

Her fingers tightened around her teacup, heart racing. He's... changed.

The city center buzzed with life. Neon signs blinked overhead, a blend of old and new—ancient temples nestled between towering skyscrapers.

Kaede weaved through the crowd, dodging vendors selling grilled yakitori and steaming bowls of ramen. Eventually, he reached it—The Tokyo Branch of Global Gate Assessment, Registration and Classification Center.

It stood like a fortress, glass panels reflecting the bustling streets, its steel archways carved with the symbols of Japan's oldest guilds. Massive guild banners flapped in the wind—Iron Fury Guild, Fire Bloom , Black Knights Guild—each representing factions known across the nation.

The lobby was packed. Potential hunters in mismatched armor, cocky teenagers gripping rusted blades, seasoned warriors with scars running down their faces. Recruiters going about observing and monitoring already registered hunters.

Kaede's heart pounded in his chest.

Screens displayed leaderboards—flashing images of the top hunters—and booths lined the walls where recruiters scouted for fresh blood.

This... is the future, he realized.

He opened his status window one more time:

[Health: 58%]

Stamina : 40/120

Speed : 20/120

Energy : 35/150

Immunity : Stable

Let's see what rank they slap on me, he thought, stepping forward as the massive assessment doors creaked open.

This was it.

His new life was about to begin.

The entrance of the Hunter Registration Center loomed ahead—its towering glass facade glinting under the pale morning sun. Banners of various guilds fluttered in the breeze, their bold insignias—dragons, swords, phoenixes—dancing like silent warriors across the skyline. Kaede's eyes caught on one, larger than the rest, its obsidian and crimson colors striking: The Black Knight Guild.

At its center, a familiar face stared back at him—Hayami, her sharp gaze piercing from the glossy poster, clad in dark armor, a katana resting against her shoulder.

"S-Class...?" Kaede muttered, his breath catching. "The rarest of the rare." He remembered her—quiet, distant—but this? He wondered if he could ever reach such a level. Could he be S-Class too?

But his thoughts broke like fragile glass when a sharp voice called out, "Next!"

Kaede snapped back to reality. The assessment officer—a rigid man in a dark uniform—gestured impatiently.

Inside, the room felt sterile, cold, the walls lined with crystalline monitors. A large mana crystal, pulsating faintly with blue light, sat atop a metallic pedestal.

"Place your hand on the crystal," the officer instructed.

Kaede's heart raced. This is it.

He pressed his palm against the cool surface. A hush fell over the room.

Nothing happened.

The officers exchanged confused glances. One of them tapped on his monitor, frowning.

"Is there a problem?" Kaede asked, tension curling in his chest.

The lead officer hesitated. "It's... not responding. Normally, even those with low mana levels trigger some resonance. But this—"

"—it's like you don't exist on the scale," another chimed in, voice low, almost apologetic.

Kaede's mind spiraled. But I survived death. I'm stronger than before...

The officer returned moments later, an official letter in hand.

"Non-Hunter status."

The words hit Kaede like a cold slap.

"You can apply for reevaluation in three months," the officer added, but his voice was already distant as Kaede took the paper and walked out, the sterile lights blurring into white noise.

Non-Hunter? His fingers curled into fists. If I am not a hunter then what am I?

Outside, the cool breeze slapped his face, filled with the scent of grilled yakitori from a nearby food stall. Kaede stood by the curb, lost in thought when—

"Kaede?"

The voice yanked him back.

He turned.

Ken.

A sharp-dressed reporter, a press badge pinned to his chest, a camera slung over his shoulder.

"You look... different," Ken remarked, eyes wide. "No glasses? You're taller too! What the hell happened - No, scratch that, we all heard what Happened, the incident two years ago, the coma, I am sorry, it was a terrible thing that happened that day,"

They ended up at a small café, its sliding paper doors revealing a wooden interior filled with the soft clink of teacups and the faint chatter of customers. Wind chimes tinkled outside as a breeze drifted through.

Ken ordered a matcha latte while Kaede asked for plain water. Ken raised a brow.

"You really have changed. You used to live on ice cream."

Kaede shrugged, the edge of a smile tugging at his lips.

Ken leaned forward. "So, why the Hunter's Center?"

Kaede hesitated, then spoke. "I wanted to be a hunter. But... it didn't work out."

Ken blinked. "Wait, what? You? A hunter? Man, I thought I was dreaming when I saw you here."

"I didn't pass the registration," Kaede admitted, his fingers tracing the condensation on his glass.

Ken, ever the optimist, grinned. "Well, maybe this is fate. Guild Press always needs field reporters. You could be my partner."

Kaede opened his mouth to refuse, but Ken pulled out a small, glowing crystal pendant.

"With this, even non-hunters can access gates. It's meant for reporters, medics, merchants—anyone under guild contract."

Kaede's eyes widened. This... this could work.

It was the perfect loophole. He could still enter the portals, still fight, still grow stronger—without the constraints of hunter rankings.

He accepted the offer.

Leaving the café, Kaede found himself back in front of the Hunter Center. The Black Knight Guild poster fluttered again in the wind. Hayami's cold, steely gaze met his once more.

I wonder if you remember me, Kaede thought.

A burst of laughter echoed nearby.

A young boy, no older than sixteen, punched the air, his newly issued C-Rank tag glinting in the sun. His hair was a messy brown, his grin wide.

"Minatoma!" his name tag read.

Recruiters swarmed him, but the boy waved them off. "I'm only joining Black Knight, I have dreamt of this my entire life!"

The recruiters sighed in defeat as Minatoma strode off, fists clenched with the same youthful determination Kaede once had.

He reminds me of... me.

Kaede chuckled under his breath, then stretched his arms to the sky.

The sun glared down, hot and heavy, but Kaede felt something new in his chest—an ember, small but burning.

I'll figure this out. Somehow.

And with that, he walked on.