As Ace walked through the town, he drew every eye. It wasn't the first time the townsfolk had seen an adventurer return, clothes in tatters and body covered in wounds, but this time was different. It wasn't just the townspeople who stared in shock and confusion—even the seasoned adventurers, those accustomed to battles and danger, watched Ace with wary eyes. After all, here was a young man of average build, carrying on his shoulder the corpse of a massive beast as if it were nothing more than a daily trophy.
Ace made his way forward steadily, feeling the weight of those gazes. He hadn't expected to become the center of attention—especially in a town teeming with warriors, where it was supposedly commonplace to see people returning from their quests laden with spoils or even monster corpses. At least, that's what he thought.
When he finally reached the guild hall, he pushed the door open slowly, almost theatrically announcing his arrival. The moment he crossed the threshold, the lively chatter inside came to a halt. Cups lifted mid-toast remained suspended in the air. Ace didn't need to look around to know that every gaze had locked onto him—or rather, onto the corpse he carried. Silence reigned for a few moments… then erupted into laughter.
That was how they welcomed him. Not with respect or admiration, but with cold, unfiltered mockery. Some men laughed so hard they clutched their sides in pain, while others pointed at him, exchanging sarcastic remarks. His filthy appearance, scorched and torn clothing—these, to them, were signs of a one-sided fight against a weak monster, dragged back in a desperate attempt to brag about an unworthy achievement.
Ace paid them no mind. He walked straight to the reception desk. Upon arrival, he swung the monster's body off his shoulder and dropped it to the ground with a heavy thud that made the counter tremble. Filth and blood splashed onto the floor, angering some of the adventurers. One of them shouted in irritation, having spent much effort cleaning that floor. Still, Ace didn't react. His focus was on the stunned expressions of the receptionists, who remained frozen, their gazes a mixture of disbelief and awe.
"I brought the monster's corpse because there's something strange I want to show you," he said in his usual calm voice.
The receptionist said nothing. She simply stared at the corpse, her mouth slightly agape, as if her mind was struggling to grasp what her eyes saw. All the adventurers noticed the odd expressions on the staff's faces. Their hushed whispers grew louder as they slowly approached the counter, curiosity written across their faces.
"This... this can't be!" one of the women muttered, while another covered her mouth as if to stifle a gasp of horror. One of the adventurers raised an eyebrow and asked warily, "What's going on? It's just a basic Dragon fire beast. Why all the shock?"
None of the women answered. But the receptionist who had given Ace the mission stepped out from behind the counter to inspect the corpse. Her eyes betrayed a lingering disbelief as she said, "No… this isn't a regular Dragon fire beast!"
A few gasps were heard. Another adventurer crouched beside her to examine the creature more closely. He ran his fingers over the scales and studied the unusually long fangs before slowly lifting his head and saying, "This… is a camouflaged Dragon fire beast—an advanced class specimen!"
A deep silence fell over the hall. It was as if everyone suddenly grasped the gravity of what lay before them. The camouflaged Dragon fire beast was no ordinary creature. It was a rare type, known to leave behind the charred remains of many adventurers in its wake. The whispers grew louder, and glances became increasingly uneasy.
"A camouflaged Dragon fire? That's impossible!" someone exclaimed.
Not everyone was convinced. One man scoffed, laughing mockingly. "Maybe he dyed its scales to make it look like that."
Before anyone could respond, an old man stepped forward. A seasoned adventurer with gray hair and eyes that had seen many years. The receptionist and the adventurer examining the corpse made room for him. He scrutinized the body silently for a few seconds. Everyone watched, waiting for his verdict—the one judgment that could settle the matter once and for all.
When he finally raised his head, his voice was firm. "It seems we have ourselves a genuine camouflaged Dragon fire corpse, folks."
Stillness hung in the air as if the hall itself held its breath. It was a suffocating moment, as everyone found themselves face-to-face with a truth they hadn't anticipated. The elder's words echoed in their minds—words no one could easily dismiss, coming from a man with unquestionable experience.
He continued, "Look at the eyes. If you think he dyed the scales—which would've taken painstaking effort—then explain the eyes. You can't alter them. These eyes don't belong to normal members of this species. And more importantly, they reflect the same hue and pattern as the scales. That's something you simply cannot fake."
He lifted his head again, scanning the stunned faces around him before finishing in a quiet but piercing voice, "Believe it or not, this is the corpse of a true camouflaged Dragon fire beast."
His words ripped away the last threads of doubt. Expressions shifted. The way they looked at Ace changed entirely—now filled with astonishment, suspicion, and perhaps even a hint of fear. The silence held for a few more moments, until the creak of a door broke it, ushering in a sudden and unexpected change.
Footsteps echoed behind them—confident, deliberate. Everyone turned. Their eyes fell on the newcomers. Just four individuals, yet their presence alone shifted the atmosphere completely. Their entrance wasn't just an arrival—it was a declaration. Strangers to the guild for sure, but they walked as though they owned the place, as though the very walls acknowledged them before their arrival.
They needed no introduction. Their identities were evident in their posture, their expressions, the insignias adorning their chests. No further confirmation was needed—their features matched the descriptions perfectly.
A whisper escaped one of the adventurers, disbelief in his voice: "Th-they're members of the New Victory Squad!"
Leading the group was a young boy who couldn't have been older than fourteen, yet his presence overshadowed everyone. He wore a gleaming silver armor crafted with such finesse it resembled a work of art more than battle gear. A long sword hung at his side, its hilt and sheath adorned with intricate designs. His blond hair fell softly over his brow, framing two piercing blue eyes that carried a haughty gaze—the look of someone used to being in control, at the forefront, commanding attention.
Every step he took seemed to declare his existence, as if his mere presence could shift reality. His confident stride wasn't an act; it was simply part of him—as though the ground itself owed its place beneath his feet.
Behind him walked a tall, slender man, his body taut like a drawn bow. A red bandana tied around his forehead mingled with his long black hair, but didn't obscure his cold red eyes. He watched everything without a trace of interest. His appearance suggested he was a swift, agile fighter, relying on speed and precision rather than brute strength. His light garments were clearly crafted for mobility over protection, and the only weapons he carried were two short daggers swinging at his narrow hips. Every detail about him seemed to say that life itself failed to stir him.
In contrast, a strikingly beautiful woman followed. Her allure was anything but ordinary—an intoxicating blend of seduction and mystery. A wide-angled hat cast shadows over her face, yet couldn't hide the glint of her confident, playful eyes. A dark cloak wrapped around her figure, and in her hand, she held a long staff made of a silvery metal, its curves hinting at an unfamiliar, potent power. At its top rested a large gem that glowed with a strange internal light—not a mere reflection, but a radiance from within.
She wasn't just a woman; she was a sorceress walking among them. Her attire, revealing much of her thighs and chest, wasn't meant solely for allure—it was a bold statement of her unshakable confidence in her own femininity.
Lastly, trailing behind was a contrasting figure—a slender girl who didn't quite fit with the commanding presence of the others. She walked with her head bowed, shoulders hunched as though trying to disappear. Dressed in white that resembled a healer's uniform more than an adventurer's gear, she clutched a strange, short golden staff that looked more like a mystical tool than a weapon. Her grip on it was tight, as if clinging to a lifeline in a sea of tension.
Her turquoise hair matched her eyes, which shimmered with visible anxiety. She moved in silence, her eyes scanning the floor with visible unease, as if afraid to meet anyone's gaze—or perhaps simply unaccustomed to such attention. Her steps were hesitant, fluctuating between slow and fast, as if she were in a quiet struggle with herself.
The group came to a halt at the center of the hall, facing the adventurers. The boy in silver armor examined the space slowly, as though evaluating every inch. Then, one of the adventurers stepped forward to greet them with a formal smile.
"It is a great honor to have the New Victory Squad visiting our guild!"
Murmurs began to rise among the others, and glances were exchanged. Some stepped forward hesitantly, while others stood back, their expressions a mix of awe and anticipation. A few whispered in hushed tones about the group's feats—the battles they had fought, the riddles they had solved, and the treasures they had unearthed.
At that moment, a young boy stepped forward. He lifted his chin slightly, staring intently at the gathering before him, then asked in a calm yet powerful voice:
"Which one of you is the adventurer who walked through town with a monster's corpse slung over his shoulder?"
Silence fell in response to the unexpected question. The adventurers exchanged looks before turning their attention to the young man among them. The boy's gaze then settled on Ace with a scrutinizing look, as if trying to figure out what set him apart. His first impression was underwhelming—Ace looked like an ordinary young man, nothing about his appearance suggested anything remarkable, especially considering the burn marks scattered across his outfit.
Yet the stares directed at him by the other adventurers confirmed he was indeed the one in question. The boy moved toward Ace with quiet steps, stopping in front of him, arms crossed, eyes scanning him from head to toe, as if trying to assess his strength through sight alone.
In his eyes shone a peculiar gleam—part curiosity, part subtle disdain. Slowly, he turned his gaze toward the monster's corpse, which still emitted faint wisps of smoke. Then he spoke, his voice cold and laced with veiled sarcasm:
"Are you really the one who killed this creature?"
His tone bore no trace of respect for someone older, but it wasn't overtly contemptuous either. His words were carefully measured, crafted to give him the upper hand without outright hostility.
Ace's expression didn't change. His eyes retained their usual calm, though he felt a flicker of irritation at the boy's tone. It wasn't the first time he'd met someone like this, but he still preferred conversations to start with respect. Without showing much emotion, he replied in a quiet voice:
"Yes, I did."
A sly smile crept across the boy's lips. He took another step forward—Ace's confirmation was all he needed to continue his performance. He spoke with a confident tone, revealing a hint of hidden envy:
"So, you are the one we've heard about! You know, everyone in town is talking about you right now. We thought we'd be the center of attention upon our arrival, but we came too late. Instead, we found that all the buzz was about an adventurer who carried a monster's corpse on his shoulder. You've already stolen the spotlight from us."
Ace showed no reaction to the words. Wanting to end the vague back-and-forth, he asked in a calm, straightforward tone:
"Excuse me, but what is it that you want from me?"