Hunters Guild

Fin walked down the sparkling streets, his head tilted back, mouth half-open like a kid seeing the sky for the first time. The buildings here were tall—way taller than anything in the slums. 

Glass and metal stretched up so high he swore they were scraping the clouds. Lights blinked on giant screens, flashing ads for energy drinks and Hunter gear, and he couldn't stop staring. 

It was like stepping into one of those old sci-fi movies Meg loved to ramble about.

"Wow," he muttered, tripping over his own feet as he craned his neck to look at a billboard with a Hunter posing—some guy in sleek black armor holding a glowing sword. "That's so cool…"

Beep! Beep!

A loud honk snapped him out of it. He stumbled back just as a shiny red car screeched to a stop, inches from his legs. The driver—a guy with slick hair and sunglasses—leaned out the window, face red with anger.

"Watch where you're going, you dumb slum rat!" the guy yelled, shaking a fist. "Get out of the road before I run you over next time!"

Fin blinked, heart pounding. "Uh… sorry?" he mumbled, stepping back onto the sidewalk. The car sped off, tires squealing, and he scratched his head. "Jeez, people here are intense."

Around him, people whispered. A lady in a fancy coat nudged her friend, pointing at Fin's patched-up jeans and faded shirt. "Look at that one," she said, loud enough for him to hear. "Must've wandered too far from the garbage heap."

Her friend giggled. "Smells like it too."

Fin's ears burned, but he shoved his hands in his pockets and kept walking. 'Whatever,' he thought. 'I'm not here for them. I'm here for Meg. For me.' Still, he couldn't help sniffing his sleeve. "I don't smell that bad… do I?"

The streets were alive with noise—cars humming, people chattering, and those giant TVs blaring Hunter highlights. One screen showed a woman with spiky blue hair slicing through a pack of goblins, her axe leaving trails of light. 

Another had a guy with a bow shooting arrows that exploded into fire. Fin stopped again, eyes wide. "Whoa… Hunters are nuts."

He didn't know where the Hunter Guild was exactly. He heard it was "in the middle of the city," but that wasn't much to go on. Lucky for him, he wasn't totally clueless. 'Big building, right? Probably has 'Hunter Guild' written on it somewhere.' He spun around, squinting at the towers. Most had weird company names or logos—stuff like "NexCorp" or a picture of a dragon eating a sandwich (weird ad, but okay). Then he saw it—a sleek, wide building with a massive sign: HUNTER GUILD HQ.

"Bingo," he said, grinning. "Not so dumb after all."

He jogged toward it, weaving through the crowd. The closer he got, the more people he saw—some in fancy jackets, others in armor that clinked with every step. Hunters, probably. And then there were the others—kids his age or older, dressed way better than him, heading for the same building. 

'Applicants,' he guessed. His stomach did a little flip. 'Oh man, this is real.'

When he reached the entrance, a group of guys lounging by the steps burst out laughing. One—a tall dude with gelled hair and a shiny vest—pointed at him. "Yo, check out this guy! Did the slums run out of trash bags to wear?"

Another one, with a scarf tied way too tight, snorted. "Hey, slum boy, you lost? Garbage dump's that way!" He jerked a thumb back toward the edge of the city.

Fin clenched his fists but kept his head down, brushing past them. 'Ignore them. Just keep going.' 

More whispers followed—stuff about his patched jeans, his chipped tooth, how he "stank like monster guts." Okay, that last one might've been true, but still. Rude.

Inside, the Hunter Guild was like nothing he'd ever seen. The air was cool—air conditioning? And smelled like flowers or something fancy, not rust and smoke. The floor was polished so shiny he could see his reflection, all awkward and scrawny in his mothball shirt. 

A big desk stretched across the room, with a line of people waiting. Fin shuffled to the back, trying not to gawk. 'This place is nuts. Like a palace or something.'

The line moved slow. He rocked on his heels, watching the others. Most looked confident—some even had swords or gear slung over their shoulders. One guy was bragging about "blasting a slime nest" to anyone who'd listen. Fin felt smaller by the second. 

'What am I even doing here?'

Finally, it was his turn. A woman behind the desk waved him over, her face all business. She had sharp glasses and a tight bun, like she was born to glare at people. "Sit," she said, pointing to a chair. Fin sat, feeling like a kid in trouble at school.

She didn't even look up from her tablet. "Name?"

"Uh, Fin. Fin Carver."

"Age?"

"Nineteen."

She tapped something, then glanced at him—barely. "Awakened power?"

He swallowed. "Absorption."

Her eyebrow twitched. "Explain."

"Well, uh… I can, like, feel stuff when I touch it. Like, really feel it. And, um… sometimes I can take power from dead things. Like monsters." He rubbed his neck, waiting for her to laugh.

She didn't. Just typed more. "Reason for applying?"

He shifted in his seat. "I… want to be a Hunter. Help people. And, uh, get out of the slums, I guess."

Her eyes flicked up, scanning him—his patched clothes, his messy hair. She didn't say it, but he could tell she thought he was a joke. "Knowledge of Hunters? Rankings, duties, that sort of thing?"

He blinked. "Uh… not much. I know they fight monsters. And… that's it?"

She sighed, long and loud, like he'd just ruined her day. "You don't know the ranking system?"

"There's a system?" he asked, genuinely confused.

Another sigh. She scribbled something down. "Experience with monsters?"

His mind flashed to the scaly thing he'd punched to death but his mouth froze. 'If I tell her, she'll ask questions. What if they think I'm lying?' "Uh… I've seen them. From far away," he mumbled.

She stared at him, her face screaming 'waste of time.'

"Right." More tapping. "Anything else?"

"Nope," he said, forcing a smile. "That's me."

She didn't smile back. "Wait over there," she said, pointing to some chairs by the wall. "We'll call you if you pass the initial screening."

He nodded and shuffled off, heart sinking. 'They're gonna reject me. No way they take some slum kid who doesn't even know the ranks.' He plopped into a chair, staring at his boots. The other applicants nearby smirked or whispered, but he tuned them out. 

'Meg believes in me,' he thought, clenching his fists. 'I'm not giving up yet.' Still, as the cool air hummed around him, he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd just made a total fool of himself.