The scent of fresh bread and sweet pastries drifted through the warm air of Darius Bakery, tucked into a quiet street corner in the city. Carl, now a full-time worker there after graduating, stood behind the wooden counter, his fingers tapping away on a compact laptop between customers. A soft melody played from the shop speakers, and the atmosphere was peaceful, almost cozy.
"Still writing that novel of yours?" Adrian Darius, the shop owner and Carl's longtime friend, called from the kitchen while arranging a tray of strawberry tarts.
"Trying to beat the deadline before next week," Carl replied, eyes still glued to the screen. "But every time I write, I feel like deleting half of it."
Adrian chuckled. "That's how you know it's getting good."
The bell above the door chimed as a few regulars came in, exchanging greetings and ordering their favorites. But as the morning passed, Adrian's smile began to fade. He kept glancing at the clock, then toward the door.
"She's not here," he murmured.
Carl looked up. "Who?"
"Madam Lee. The old lady who always orders the sesame milk buns and ginger tea. She comes in like clockwork every Tuesday. Said she looked forward to it more than her birthday."
Carl raised an eyebrow. "Maybe she's just busy?"
Adrian frowned. "I don't know, I have a bad feeling… Can you take this to her house? Just a small box. I already packed it."
Carl nodded and grabbed his jacket. "Sure."
==========
Carl mounted his motorcycle, the small bakery box secured in the delivery bag behind him. The road to Madam Lee's place wasn't far—about fifteen minutes away on a good day.
But halfway through the route, traffic ground to a halt.
"What the…?"
Up ahead, a strange shimmering crack split the air in the middle of the street—a rift. Panic surged through the crowd as howls echoed and twisted, four-legged monsters clawed their way into the world, snarling and snapping at nearby cars and pedestrians.
"Everyone back!" a man in an AHCA uniform shouted. "It's a B-level rift! Hunters are on the way—ETA five minutes!"
Five minutes. Carl's hands tightened around the handlebars. That was too long. People were screaming, scattering. A delivery van tipped over as a monster rammed it aside.
Carl breathed deeply. The shadows around him responded instinctively, curling at his feet.
"…Guess I'll be a little late."
He parked his motorcycle and stepped forward. His shadow stretched unnaturally, rising into tendrils behind him. One by one, the creatures turned toward him, sensing his power.
In an instant, he attacked.
His shadow lashed out, forming jagged spikes and arms that slammed into the monsters, pinning them against streetlights and walls. One lunged at a crying child behind a flipped car—but Carl's shadow swooped in faster, grabbing it midair and slamming it into the asphalt.
People stared in awe. "Who is that?" someone whispered. "Is he a hunter?"
"No… he's not even registered," another replied.
But Carl didn't care what they thought. His focus was sharp. Efficient. Protective.
When the hunters finally arrived, suited in armor and wielding flashy weapons, the fight was nearly over. Carl had pushed back the wave. Without a word, he stepped away, letting the professionals finish off the stragglers.
He returned to his bike, his shirt damp with sweat. The bakery box was still intact.
"Still got a delivery to make," he muttered, starting the engine.
==========
Madam Lee's house was a quaint, single-story home with flowerpots lining the porch. Carl knocked lightly.
After a moment, the door opened, and Madam Lee appeared, smiling kindly.
"Ah, Carl! You brought me sweets?"
He handed her the box with a bow. "From Adrian. He was worried you didn't come today."
She chuckled. "Oh, silly boy. My children came to visit from overseas. I didn't want to leave them alone."
Carl smiled, relief washing over him. "Then enjoy your time with them."
As he turned to leave, Madam Lee called out, "You're a good boy, Haruki. Thank you."
Carl paused.
He hadn't told her his real name.
But somehow… she knew.
As he rode back to the bakery under the fading afternoon sun, he felt the soft pull of his shadow resting beneath him, calm and quiet once more.
For now, he was still not a hunter.
But he was already a protector.