The city skyline shimmered beneath the golden sunset, but Carl stood still on the rooftop of his apartment building, staring at the horizon with distant eyes. Shadows pooled around his feet—not wild and lashing like before, but calm, silent, like loyal hounds awaiting their master's command.
He remembered his father's final breath, the crimson stain in the snow, and the monster's last roar before it crumbled. For years, that memory had poisoned him, twisted his heart into something cold, driven only by the thirst for revenge.
But now, after the bakery, the people he met, the lives he saved—he understood something deeper.
Revenge wouldn't bring peace.
It was protection that mattered. His mother's warm smile every morning, the way Adrian always cracked jokes during rush hour, Madam Lee's quiet strength—that was what he needed to fight for.
But time wasn't on his side.
The number of rifts was increasing. B-level ones were now common, and worse—A-level and even S-level rifts had begun to appear. The AHCA barely contained them.
One S-level rift had torn open on the edge of the city last week. It took an entire battalion of top-class hunters just to hold the line. Carl had watched the news, frozen, imagining what would've happened if that rift had opened near his mother's home.
He wasn't strong enough. Not alone.
If he stayed unregistered, outside the system, he wouldn't be there in time. And more importantly, neither would AHCA.
That night, Carl spoke to his mother. The conversation was quiet, yet heavy with meaning.
"I want to register as a hunter," he said.
His mother looked down at her tea. "You swore you wouldn't."
"I know," Carl replied. "But I also swore I'd protect you. If another S-level rift opens, I can't do it alone. But if I'm part of AHCA, they'll protect you too. You won't be alone."
His mother was silent for a long moment, before finally nodding. "Then… be the kind of hunter your father would have been proud of."
==========
Adrian grinned when Carl told him the next day. "Took you long enough."
Carl raised a brow. "You knew I'd say yes eventually?"
"Of course. You think I invited you to work at my bakery just for your terrible latte art?"
They stood in the quiet kitchen of the bakery, but the conversation was far from casual.
Adrian Darius wasn't just a talented baker. He was also a powerful S-level Awakened—rare, even among elites. Despite refusing to become a hunter, he had the power to wipe out an entire rift alone. And more importantly, he had connections.
One of them was Rosalind Farley, the current Chief of Division One, the most elite division of AHCA.
"She's the real deal," Adrian said. "Smart, lethal, and terrifying when she's mad—but don't tell her I said that."
"Aren't you two…?" Carl asked.
Adrian's grin widened. "Engaged? Yeah. She's way out of my league. But lucky for you, I still have her number."
==========
The registration process for Carl was expedited through Rosalind's influence, though she made one thing very clear when she first met him:
"If you think being Adrian's friend earns you a free pass, think again."
Carl met her gaze steadily. "I don't want favors. Just the chance to protect people."
That answer earned the faintest flicker of a smile from the usually stoic Chief.
Division One wasn't just in charge of Awakened logistics—it was the oversight division. They dealt with internal threats, rogue hunters, and dangerous Awakened. They were AHCA's blade and shield, feared by even S-level combatants.
And Rosalind Farley, the only daughter of the AHCA President himself, was its unshakable core.
After completing intense evaluations and a test of control under pressure, Carl's registration as a hunter was approved.
He was given a simple black badge etched with silver lines—the mark of an A-level hunter.
==========
Carl stood outside the AHCA headquarters, badge in hand, the weight of his choice heavy on his shoulders—but not unwelcome.
He was no longer a boy chasing revenge.
He was a protector, finally armed with the means to do what mattered.
And deep in his shadow, something stirred.
Not out of rage…
But resolve.