Chapter 9: destroyed
Fin trudged through the Hunter Guild lobby, with his stomach begging for food.
"Shut up, you," he muttered to his belly, patting it like it'd listen. The fancy lights overhead buzzed softly, and the air still smelled like flowers—too clean, too rich. He felt like a smudge on a shiny mirror, sticking out worse than a slime in a soup bowl.
"Fin Carver!" a sharp voice cut through the hum of the lobby.
He froze mid-step, nearly tripping over his own feet. Turning, he saw her—the interviewer lady with the tight bun and glasses that could cut glass. She stood by her desk, arms crossed, looking at him like he'd just tracked mud on her perfect floor. Which, okay, he might've.
"Uh... yeah?" he said, shuffling over. His heart did a little flip—did he mess up already? Was she kicking him out?
She didn't smile, just adjusted her glasses and stared him down. "I'm Mara. Official registrar for the Hunter Guild. You're an F-rank now, so listen up. You need to be here tomorrow, 8 a.m. sharp. Not 8:01, not 8:05—eight. Got it?"
He nodded fast, like a bobblehead on a bumpy road. "Yeah, 8 a.m. Got it."
"Good." She reached under her desk and pulled out a book—thick, worn, with a faded cover that said 'Hunter Basics: Don't Die Edition'. She slid it across to him, along with a small, shiny card. "This is your temporary license. The book's got everything you need to know—ranks, monsters, rules. Read it. Memorize it. Don't show up tomorrow acting like a clueless slum rat again."
He grabbed the book and card, his fingers brushing the cracked leather. "Thanks, uh, Mara. I'll read it. Promise."
She raised an eyebrow, like she didn't believe him, then waved him off. "Go. Don't lose that license—it's your ticket in. And clean yourself up. You smell like a dead dog."
He grinned, sheepish. "Yeah, working on that." Tucking the book under his arm, he gave her a quick nod and headed for the exit. His mind spun—8 a.m., license, book. He was really doing this.