EPISODE FOUR - 1

The hum of fluorescent lights filled the spacious lobby of the Global Gate Authority Commission. Soft jazz trickled through hidden speakers, barely masking the tense energy hanging in the air.

Hayami lounged on a faux leather bench, a bright red lollipop hanging lazily from her mouth, its glossy surface catching the overhead lights. Her cropped jacket bore the unmistakable emblem of Iron Fury, though she wore it like it barely mattered. She twirled the lollipop with her tongue, her gaze distant, half-lidded, as if this entire meeting was nothing but a dull inconvenience.

Across from her, Himori Takeda—the third-ranked S-Class hunter—sat stiffly, his jaw clenched as he scrolled through a holographic display hovering over his wristband. His armor, a sleek fusion of traditional samurai plating and modern tech, glinted under the lobby lights.

"Tch, this is a waste of time," Himori muttered, swiping the display shut. "Jin Seiichi, calling secret meetings like he runs the place. Doesn't even bother informing the presidents. Who does he think he is?"

Hayami didn't respond. She shifted the lollipop from one side of her mouth to the other with a faint pop.

"Oi, are you even listening?" Himori snapped, his sharp eyes narrowing.

"Hmm?" Hayami tilted her head, violet bangs brushing over one eye. "Oh… yeah. Totally."

Himori's vein twitched. "Kami-sama... You're the weirdest S-Class I've ever met."

She offered a faint, mischievous smile, the candy stick bobbing between her fingers.

"Fine," Himori grunted, rising from the bench. "But if Jin steps out of line, I'm putting that cocky bastard in his place. Back me up, alright?"

Hayami blinked. "Mmm… sure."

Himori scowled but didn't push further. He stormed off, his boots echoing against the marble floors.

Hayami sat still for a moment, staring at his retreating figure before glancing at her lollipop. "I liked this flavor…" she mused softly, before tossing the now colorless stick into a nearby trash bin with perfect aim.

---

The Private Guild Masters' Room

The round table gleamed under the soft glow of hanging lanterns, designed to echo the elegance of an old chashitsu—a traditional tea room—though the high-tech screens lining the walls betrayed its modernity.

Around the table sat elite hunters—Guild Masters from the top-ranking groups. Their badges gleamed with authority, though tension brewed in their hushed conversations.

The door slid open with a soft hiss.

Jin Seiichi stepped in.

A wave of heat followed him, subtle but undeniable. The room temperature spiked, condensation forming along the cold glass panels. Jin's fiery red hair framed sharp features, his lean form radiating effortless strength. Despite his youthful appearance, the room quieted—an instinctual reaction to the raw energy he carried.

"Show-off," Himori muttered under his breath, arms crossed.

Jin ignored the jab. His crimson eyes swept across the room before he spoke.

"Thanks for coming," Jin began, his voice calm but heavy with authority. "And for not informing the Presidents. This stays between Guild Masters."

A few exchanged uneasy glances but nodded.

Jin inhaled deeply, then continued. "I keep having this dream. For two weeks now. The same one."

Murmurs rose. Hunters weren't known for superstition, but dreams in their line of work weren't always just that.

"I see a red portal—not like anything we've ever faced. And something steps out. A monster… but it doesn't stay that way. It takes the form of a hunter."

The room stiffened.

"This thing," Jin's jaw tightened, "kills everything it touches. Wherever it steps, the ground rots, mana fractures, and life ends instantly."

Silence fell heavy.

"I fought it," he added. "In the dream. And I lost."

The words dropped like lead.

"You're saying you lost?" one Guild Master scoffed, but his voice wavered.

"Not just me , we all fought it and lost, know how it sounds," Jin admitted. "But this—this wasn't like any monster we've cataloged. If it exists… it's a threat bigger than any Rift or Gate we've dealt with."

Himori clicked his tongue. "So, what? You called us here over a nightmare?"

Jin didn't flinch. "I called you here because if I'm right, the Presidents will see this as a means to make profit before threat. But we, though we have had our differences but we always look out for our own, I want you all to watch your guilds. If anyone starts showing strange powers—abilities beyond normal —report it. Quietly. If there happens to be a potential threat in the form of q hunter, it is our responsibility to deal with it,"

The weight of his words lingered before he turned, his long coat trailing behind as he exited, the door sliding shut behind him.

For a beat, no one spoke.

Then:

"Did he really call us here for a dream?"

"Or is he warning us about himself?"

"If there's anyone stronger than Jin… we're screwed."

"Or maybe he's just trying to stir panic."

Himori slammed his palm on the table, the wood groaning under the force. "Enough! I don't like him—but I respect him. If Jin's worried, you should be too." He pushed away from the table. "Report anything strange. I'm done here."

As Himori stalked out, Hayami sat still, her eyes fixed on the now-empty seat Jin had left behind.

A guild master muttered, "S-Classes… they're the real monsters."

Hayami's heart twinged at that.

If only they knew.

Hayami's Tragic Backstory

The scent of scorched earth still lingers in Hayami's memory—acrid, heavy, and inescapable.

She was only eight when the wildfire came.

Born into one of the revered sixteen families, Hayami and her twin brother, Haruto, grew up in the shadow of legacy and duty. Their family castle stood atop the misty hills of Kagurazaka, surrounded by sakura trees that whispered ancient tales with every breeze. Haruto, the older twin by mere minutes, was chosen as the family's next guardian—a title passed down through bloodlines, tied to honor and strength.

But fate is merciless.

It was meant to be a routine gate cleansing. The elders assured them. Nothing more than a flickering crack in the fabric of reality—until it wasn't.

A Class A monster broke through.

It didn't manifest as a tornado or storm. No, this one was far crueler. It took the form of wildfire—living, breathing, consuming. It snaked through the castle grounds like a predator, devouring stone, wood, and life itself. The sky blackened with smoke as the ancestral home crumbled under waves of searing heat.

In the heart of the chaos, Haruto found Hayami trapped beneath a collapsed beam, the air thick with smoke, her tiny hands scraped and bloodied. With sheer force, he pulled her free, his own body already singed by the flames.

"Hayami, listen to me," he coughed, kneeling before her, the fire reflected in his tearful eyes. "You need to go. Now."

But she couldn't. Her legs wouldn't move. Her throat burned with smoke and grief.

Haruto cupped her face, his gloves smudged with ash. "You're stronger than this. Don't cry. Never cry." His voice cracked. "No matter how bad it gets—smile. It's how you win. It's how you stay alive."

Tears welled up in her eyes. "But—"

"Smile, Hayami."

Through the smoke and the sirens of crumbling stone, she forced a trembling smile. Haruto's face softened, even as the flames closed in.

"Good girl."

In the next moment, he threw her out through the broken wall, his own body swallowed by the roaring inferno.

When the hunters arrived, they found Hayami, untouched by the fire, still smiling—a hollow, empty smile that chilled even the most hardened of them.

The wildfire was eventually extinguished, but the damage was done. The family castle was gone. Haruto was gone.

Hayami was the last of her bloodline.

But something inside her had ignited that day—not just grief, but a quiet, raging determination. She trained harder than anyone, her emotions buried beneath layers of aloofness and a disarming, almost eerie calm. Her odd, sometimes detached behavior became her armor. The lollipop always in her mouth? A replacement for the nervous habits she buried. The blank, wide-eyed stares? A mask she wore, as her brother had taught her—to never look worried.

Because for Hayami, fear was the true enemy.

She became one of the few to reach the elusive S-class, not through sheer aggression, but through a chilling precision in battle. She smiled even when slaying beasts, a haunting reminder of the brother who taught her survival wasn't about strength alone—but about the will to keep moving, even when everything burns around you.

And deep down, in the quiet spaces where no one could see, she still carries the guilt of surviving.

But she smiles.

Just like he told her to.