The rain fell like a soft rhythm over the silent city, pattering on rooftops and empty streets. Max sat on top of his building, legs pulled to his chest, his forehead resting against his knees. His hoodie soaked through, but he didn't care. The water running down his face blended with the quiet tears in his eyes.
"I've lived... and killed... through hell," he whispered to the sky, "but nothing hurts more than remembering her face."
He looked down at his trembling hands. They weren't the same. Stronger, faster, sharper. But the callouses weren't from holding a blade—they were from all the times he held back everything he wanted to say to his mother.
"She sold everything," he muttered, voice cracking. "She took debt after debt. Quit smiling just to pay for a son who wasn't even hers."
He remembered it so clearly—his mother working double shifts, eating barely anything just so he could get treatment. Sleepless nights spent wiping sweat from his forehead in the hospital, whispering lullabies to a sleeping body that gave nothing back.
"And I couldn't say anything back then. I was just... gone."
Max clenched his jaw, eyes burning.
No more.
He wiped his tears away with the back of his hand and stood up, looking at the city lights through the rain.
"I'll make her the happiest mother in the world."
---
Later, Max sat across from Sunny at their favorite noodle stall. Sunny was halfway through slurping soup when Max dropped his news.
"I'm opening an agency."
Sunny blinked, broth still dripping from his lips. "Huh?"
"Not just a guild. An actual agency. Our own. You'll be my assistant. Handle logistics, paperwork. I'll handle the field."
Narration: Agencies in this world operate like guilds or clans. They purchase dungeon rights, mine resources, sell monster materials, and even offer special hunter services for high-paying VIPs and celebrities. In exchange, agencies give 10% of their total income to the government.
Sunny leaned forward, face lighting up. "Wait—you serious?"
Max nodded. "It was your dream too, wasn't it? Let's make it happen."
Sunny slapped the table. "Then I'm in!"
---
The next day, they walked into the towering walls of PSD Headquarters. Everything felt sterile and expensive. Max handed over his application and slid his 6-star rank card across the glass.
The clerk raised an eyebrow. "A 6-star requesting a license for independent agency authority?"
"Yes," Max said.
"Approved." The woman stood up immediately and pressed a button. "We'll fast-track the authorization. Please proceed to the registration sector."
Sunny whispered under his breath, "Man, I love the way your card makes everything easier."
---
Later that night at a bar, Sunny sipped from his soda, eyes narrow. "So... you already have a plan?"
Max nodded. "First thing: we need a name."
"Well, I've got a list." Sunny slapped a paper on the table. "Listen to this: Thunder Guardians. Shadow Rain. Guild of Valor."
Max shook his head. "All too boring."
"What do you mean boring?"
Max grinned. "Flames of Hell."
Sunny froze. "Bro... what?"
Max leaned in. "Think about it. Intimidating. Powerful. Everyone who hears it will know we mean business."
Sunny groaned. "Sounds like an underground metal band from the 80s."
But by dawn, after ten arguments, five drinks, two almost-fistfights, and one emotional toast, they sealed it.
FLAMES OF HELL Agency was born.
---
The following morning, Max took a massive bank loan using his 6-star hunter card. Sunny nearly fainted when he saw the numbers.
"Are you crazy?! We have to start paying interest in thirty days!"
They bought an office space in the city's west district. It came with a decent basement, old computers, and cracked windows. They installed what they needed—desks, lights, communication terminals, and portal tracking monitors.
That night, Sunny paced the office like a nervous cat. "This is bad, man. Really bad. We're one month away from sinking in debt."
Max just smiled. "Relax."
"Relax?! You took out another loan this morning!"
"To purchase a hundred 4–6 star portal rights," Max replied simply.
Sunny stared at him. "I... I don't have words. I just want to know why."
"Trust me," Max said. "You'll understand soon."
---
By the next week, they were geared up—minting teams, armored transport trucks, supply units. The first test was a 5-star portal.
The gate guard chuckled. "It's just the two of you? You're either stupid or suicidal."
Sunny waved his arms. "That's what I told him! I haven't even dated a girl yet! I'm gonna die a lonely virgin!"
Max grabbed him by the collar. "Less whining. More walking."
Inside the dungeon, things were brutal. The air burned with sulfur. Screams echoed from dark tunnels.
Thirty minutes later, the two walked out—bloodied but victorious.
The mining team applauded. The guards stared, jaws dropped.
---
Evenings became moments of quiet celebration. One night, Sunny raised his drink and sighed, "I didn't know you were this strong. Honestly, if I had, I wouldn't have cried at the portal gate."
Over the next month, Max cleared nearly every level 1–4 portal across the region. So many that other agencies couldn't find any easy jobs.
Soon, protests began.
Agency leaders stood outside the PSD courtyard, shouting for balance.
Max appeared calmly.
"What do you want?"
"Leave the low-level dungeons! You're hogging all the work!"
Max folded his arms. "I'll make you a deal. Give me 5% of your earnings, and I'll leave the lower tiers to you."
The crowd fell silent.
Sunny blinked, realization dawning. "You genius... You planned this from the start, didn't you?"
Max turned to walk away. "Nothing wrong with smart business."
---
Within two months, all debts were cleared. The bank sent flowers instead of warning letters. The media hailed Max as the unstoppable hunter-entrepreneur. Flames of Hell topped charts. Children wore shirts with Max's silhouette. Talk shows debated his success.
He became a celebrity.
But he stayed quiet.
Until one rainy afternoon in a parking lot, where fate spun again.
She walked past him—shoulders straight, eyes distant.
Max paused mid-step.
His gaze locked on her, rain dripping from his hair.
"...Found you."