Chapter 4: 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?"