Chapter 5: Buyer

The rain had passed, leaving behind streets slick with water and shallow pools reflecting the neon glow of buzzing signs.

The scent of damp earth and city grime clung to the air, mixing with the greasy aroma of street food.

Cain moved through the bustling streets, his soaked hoodie clinging to him, his body shivering from the relentless chill.

Laughter, shouting, and the occasional blast of music filled the air, creating an almost overwhelming sensory overload.

Street vendors peddled cheap food under tattered awnings, and groups of rowdy drunks stumbled between establishments, their revelry masking the darker dealings taking place beneath the surface.

It was the perfect place to conduct illegal business.

Cain kept his head low, his hood shadowing his face.

He blended into the crowd with practiced ease, just another nameless figure among the late-night wanderers.

His heartbeat remained steady, his movements unhurried.

The Guild Association had eyes on places like this, hunters watching for the faintest sign of a shady deal.

One wrong move—too cautious, too tense—and he'd draw attention. 

The Guild Association was usually watchful of people his age in these streets, as those young men were the ones the organization behind the illegal serum tended to use, so he couldn't afford to be careless.

Cain pulled his hood lower, weaving through the rain-slick streets with unhurried steps.

A group of rowdy men laughed as they stumbled out of a bar, shoving each other playfully.

He matched their pace, letting their drunken energy shield him from prying eyes.

Further down, a street vendor flipped sizzling meat over an open flame, the rich scent cutting through the damp air, and Cain slowed just enough to seem like any other passerby debating a late-night snack before slipping past.

He didn't hesitate, didn't scan his surroundings like a nervous thief.

He simply moved, flowing with the current of the city, invisible in plain sight.

But he wasn't just wandering—he was hunting.

At the academy, they taught students how to move unseen, how to track without being noticed.

But few paid attention to those lectures.

Stealth wasn't needed in a dungeon, as monsters didn't care how quietly you moved.

It was a skill for Guild Association hunters, the ones who dealt with criminals, hunters gone rogue, and not dungeon monsters.

And hardly anyone wanted that job. Not even Cain.

But… Cain had paid attention.

Now, he was utilizing those skills.

From the info he had, the serum deals didn't happen in fixed locations.

The sellers always changed their drop points to avoid Guild Association raids.

But no matter how careful they were, they all shared one telltale sign: paranoia.

And this was because these sellers were young men like himself.

Boys who had awakened with low rank and had no place in the world of hunters. Unexperienced and brought into a scary world of illegal dealings.

Cain's eyes flicked across the street, scanning faces, body language, micro-reactions.

The vendors peddled their wares, drunkards stumbled in and out of bars, and couples whispered sweet nothings beneath dimly lit awnings.

Nothing seemed out of place.

He clenched his jaw, frustration creeping in.

He moved further down, past a series of narrow alleyways, past a row of cheap motels where neon lights buzzed overhead.

Still nothing.

Minutes dragged on, and doubt gnawed at him.

What if he was wasting his time?

What if the deal had already happened?

The cold seeped into his bones, his stomach twisted with hunger.

He hadn't eaten properly in days, and his body was running on fumes.

Maybe this was a mistake.

What the hell was I thinking?

Planning to steal an illegal serum from criminals?

No.

Cain clenched his fists, shaking the doubt from his mind.

He couldn't afford to waver.

He came here with a goal, and he was going to see it through.

Even if it meant roaming the streets all night.

It wasn't like he had anywhere else to go.

Shaking off his doubts, he took a slow breath, sharpening his focus.

Instead of merely looking with his bare eyes, he shifted to mana detection.

Cain tuned out the noise, the chaos—everything but the mana fluctuations in the air. 

Every student was trained in mana detection, but unlike the others, Cain had a rare talent—he could sense emotions through mana. 

Not with perfect accuracy, but enough to get a rough idea. 

As he searched, he felt waves of fear, tension, and excitement bleeding into the atmosphere.

The slums were thick with unease, but most of it was just background noise. 

Ripples.

Disturbances in the natural flow of energy. 

Cain clenched his head.

Mana detection took intense focus, and the strain was setting in. 

For a while, he sensed nothing unusual.

Just the same chaotic energy as before. 

But then, there was a tremor.

Subtle but distinct.

A pocket of unease buried in the indifferent crowd. 

It was strong. Too strong. 

And Cain's gut told him—this was it.

Cain pushed forward without hesitation, weaving through the moving crowd.

Then, beneath the glow of a flickering streetlamp, he spotted someone different.

A young man. Jittery. Restless.

He shifted his weight from foot to foot as his anxious eyes darted around.

His movements were rushed, erratic. Like someone expecting trouble.

That's when Cain felt it—an otherworldly energy radiating off the man.

The mana was strong.

Pulsating.

Like a second heartbeat.

But wasn't coming from the man but rather from something he possessed.

"That's it," Cain muttered to himself.

"The serum."

There was no doubt. This was his target.

The dealer moved, slipping through the crowd with quick, deliberate steps.

Cain followed, silently.

Using the crowd as a shield.

The dealer kept looking around and glancing back cautiously, and Cain figured he was most likely new to this.

The chase led to a bustling outdoor restaurant, neon signs flickering overhead. The dealer stopped, moving toward a man already seated at a corner table.

Dressed in a plain overcoat, a fedora tilted just low enough to shadow his eyes, and a pair of simple glasses, the second man exuded an air of quiet normalcy.

He looked like any other office worker, someone who had just finished a long shift and stopped for a late meal.

But Cain knew better.

Unlike the nervous dealer, this man exuded confidence.

His posture was relaxed, but there was a weight to his presence—an aura that felt dangerous.

Cain could sense it.

This was a high-ranked hunter.

Cain tensed, forcing himself to stay calm.

If this was the buyer, then things just got a lot more complicated.

Moving closer, he knew he needed to blend in.

Act natural.

So without hesitation, he stepped into the restaurant and took a seat at a nearby table.

A waitress approached, and he ordered a meal.

He wouldn't be eating.

Hell, he couldn't even pay.

But none of that mattered.

Right now, he needed to play the part of just another customer.

Cain took a slow sip of water, his gaze fixed downward.

His focus, however, wasn't on the table in front of him—it was on the reflection in the mirror beside him—to see what was happening.

The dealer's hands trembled as he reached into his coat, pulling out a small, tightly wrapped package.

Cain didn't need to see what was inside.

He could feel it.

The mana pulsating from within was undeniable.

That's it.

The buyer leaned forward, calm and composed.

The briefcase beside him likely carried stacks of credits, a fortune for a single vial.

Cain's grip on the glass tightened.

If that package reached the buyer, it was over.

There was no way he could steal it from a high-ranked hunter.

His only chance was intercepting it now—before the deal was sealed.

His mind raced.

Options.

He needed an opening.

And a desperate idea struck him.

What if he stood up and yelled? Claiming to be a hunter from the Guild Association?

It was reckless, but it might work.

The buyer wouldn't risk exposure.

From the power he oozed, he was no doubt a hunter, and he wouldn't want his identity linked to illegal dealings.

He'd flee.

And that would leave only the dealer—Cain's real target.

Cain tensed, pushing his chair back slightly.

It was risky.

Somewhat foolish.

Definitely crazy.

But he was going to do it.

He waited, watching as the dealer and the buyer spoke for a bit.

And when two was about to make the exchange.

Cain shot to his feet...

Now!

But before he could even draw breath to speak, a voice cut through the night like a whip.

"Nobody move! This is a Guild Association raid!"

Five hunters in sleek suits, their insignias gleaming under the neon lights, advanced swiftly towards the table the dealer and buyer sat with practiced precision.

Weapons drawn, eyes sharp.

Cain cursed under his breath.

Damn it!

"You're surrounded! Don't even think about running!" one of them barked, a dagger glinting in his grip as he stepped forward.

The dealer stiffened, his breath hitching as he stuffed the package back into his coat.

His gaze snapped to the buyer—who, unlike him, remained unnervingly calm.

Then, in a flash, the buyer struck first.

A ripple of mana—sharp, precise.

BOOM!

The advancing hunter barely had time to react before he was blasted off his feet.

His body crashed into a nearby stall, shattering wood and sending fruit rolling across the pavement.

Chaos erupted.

Screams filled the street.

Civilians shoved past each other in blind panic.

Chairs scraped against the pavement as restaurant-goers bolted from their tables.

Before the remaining hunters could recover, the buyer moved again.

A flick of his wrist—another pulse of energy.

The next two hunters...