Ayla Grayson.


    The name stirred memories I had tucked away for some time now. I had mentored her during a three-month undercover mission, one of the more complicated assignments in my career. It hadn’t been a Hunting Dog request, nor even officially sanctioned. No, this one was personal—a favor President Bob himself had asked of me.


    The freedom fighters I infiltrated were no ordinary group. They were training teenagers in aura techniques, turning them into soldiers for their cause. Left unchecked, they were starting to destabilize the government from the shadows, targeting weak points the mundane authorities couldn’t predict or control. Their leader was the reason I’d been brought in: a former Hunting Dog who knew all the tricks of the trade.


    Infiltrating them wasn’t easy. On the first day, I’d kidnapped one of their instructors, successfully impersonating him to take his place. It was a risky play, but it worked. My cover allowed me to move freely within their ranks, learning their plans while keeping an eye on the recruits.


    That’s when I met Ayla.


    She stood out immediately. Not because she was the best—far from it. She was reckless, brash, and far too na?ve for the world she’d been thrown into. But she had potential. There was something raw and untamed about her aura, and I couldn’t ignore it.


    I gave her special attention, though I had my reasons.


    First, she was on a fast track to getting herself killed—or worse, violated by the same people she trusted. I couldn’t let that happen, not under my watch.


    Second, she was a named character.


    In the novel this world was based on, Ayla was destined to play a significant role. She would eventually become one of the first professors at President Bob’s ambitious Hunter Academy. Her expertise would shape a new generation of hunters. That future wasn’t something I could risk altering.


    Still, our time together had been brief, and I hadn’t expected to see her again—especially not like this.


    Leora’s voice snapped me back to the present. “You gave her the Judgment tarot card, huh?”


    I nodded. “It suits her.”


    Leora crossed her arms, smirking. “What did she steal from you?”


    “She didn’t,” I admitted, pulling a small object from my pocket. “I thought she did, but… she didn’t.”


    I held up the pitch-black ring, letting it catch the dim light of the tavern.


    Leora frowned, leaning in for a closer look. “What’s that?”


    “She planted this on me,” I said, turning the ring over in my fingers. Its surface was smooth, almost unnaturally so, and it gave off a faint, unsettling aura. “Any ideas what it is?”


    Leora shook her head. “Not a clue. But if she went through the trouble of planting it on you, it’s probably important.”


    “Important or dangerous,” I muttered.


    “Maybe both.”


    I focused my aura, channeling it into the ring to get a better read. It responded immediately, pulsing faintly in my hand. Whatever it was, it wasn’t ordinary.


    “Definitely enchanted,” I said, frowning. “But the signature is strange. It’s not her aura. Someone else made this.”


    Leora’s expression darkened. “Think it’s a tracker?”


    “Could be,” I admitted. “Or a curse. Either way, I don’t like it.”


    “We should get it checked out,” Leora said. “Selena might know something. Or we could take it to a blacksmith or enchanter in the village.”


    “Agreed.” I pocketed the ring, my mind racing with possibilities. Ayla had always been resourceful, but this was something else entirely. What had she gotten herself into?


    Leora leaned back, studying me. “You’re worried about her, aren’t you?”


    “Of course I am,” I said. “She’s not just some random kid. She’s…” I hesitated, searching for the right words. “She’s important. To this world. To its future.” I knew I was self-rationalizing at this point. Truth was… Ayla Greyson didn’t matter to anyone.


    Leora’s smirk softened into a small smile. “You always did have a thing for strays.”


    I rolled my eyes. “She’s not a stray. She’s a survivor. And if she’s in trouble, I’m not going to sit back and let her face it alone.”


    Leora nodded, her gaze thoughtful. “Alright. Let’s deal with the ring first. Then we can figure out what Ayla’s really up to.”


    “Agreed,” I said, rising from my seat. “Let’s find Selena. If anyone can help us make sense of this, it’s her.”


    When it came to side-quests, I hadn’t always appreciated their value. Most of the time, they felt like distractions from the main goal, pulling me into tangents I’d rather avoid. But this? This was different.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    Ayla Grayson wasn’t just some side character in the tapestry of this world. She was personal.


    She had a bright future ahead of her—one I knew because of the novel this world was based on. But my presence, the favors I’d given, and the ripple effect of my actions might have already altered that path. For all I knew, I’d set her on a trajectory that could lead to something worse than her already tragic backstory.


    The thing was… that backstory hadn’t even happened yet.


    In the novel, Ayla’s early struggles shaped her into the resilient, sharp-witted woman who would go on to change lives as a Hunter Academy professor. But in this timeline, where I existed as an anomaly, those struggles were still in the future.


    That meant there was still time.


    It was why I’d taken her training seriously during my undercover mission. Sure, I helped the other conscripted kids, but I’d been especially harsh on Ayla. Not because I wanted to break her spirit—quite the opposite. I wanted to make her strong enough to survive what was coming.


    But it seemed she hadn’t wanted my help. Not back then, and certainly not now.


    As we stepped into Selena’s temporary workshop (her room in the inn), she looked up from her gear, an eyebrow raised.


    “That was fast,” she said, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “You lot are back too quickly. I just finished setting up my equipment and sending the drones out.”


    Leora smirked. “What can I say? We’re efficient.”


    Selena didn’t buy it. Her sharp gaze flicked between the two of us before settling on me. “What happened?”


    I reached into my pocket and pulled out the black ring, holding it out for her to see. “This.”


    Selena frowned, wiping her hands on her pants before taking the ring. She turned it over, inspecting it closely. “Where did you get this?”


    “Ayla Grayson planted it on me,” I said.


    Selena’s eyes widened. “Ayla? The same Ayla you’ve mentioned before? The one you mentored?”


    I nodded. “The very same.”


    Selena let out a low whistle, still examining the ring. “And she’s here? What are the odds of that?”


    “Too high for comfort,” I muttered. “She’s up to something, but I don’t know what. And this ring… it’s not ordinary.”


    “No kidding,” Selena said, pulling out a small scanner from her equipment bag. She placed the ring on the scanner’s surface and powered it on. The device hummed softly as it began analyzing the object.


    Leora leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “So, what’s the verdict? Tracker? Curse? Explosive?”


    Selena glanced at her, smirking. “Patience, oh wise and cautious one. Let me work.”


    The scanner beeped, and Selena’s smirk faded as she read the results.


    “Well?” I asked, tension coiling in my chest.


    “This thing’s layered,” Selena said, her voice unusually serious. “It’s definitely enchanted, but it’s not just one enchantment. There’s a concealment spell, a tracking function, and…” She hesitated, her brow furrowing.


    “And what?” Leora pressed.


    Selena looked up, meeting my eyes. “And something else. Something I can’t identify.”


    “Great,” I muttered. “Just what we needed—more mysteries.”


    Selena handed the ring back to me, her expression grave. “Whatever this is, it’s tied to something big. Be careful with it.”


    “Careful is my middle name,” I said dryly, pocketing the ring.


    Leora snorted. “Sure it is.”


    Selena rolled her eyes. “In the meantime, I’ll keep the drones running. They should pick up any unusual activity in the village. You two keep digging. If Ayla’s here, she’s not here for nothing.”


    I nodded, already planning our next move. Ayla’s sudden appearance, the ring, and the layers of enchantments—it all pointed to something much larger than a simple reunion.


    And I had a sinking feeling that whatever was coming, we weren’t ready for it.


    The afternoon was a blur of conversation, negotiation, and the occasional bribe. Leora led the way with practiced ease, navigating the tangled web of hunters, traders, and opportunists who made up Mornlit Village’s social fabric.


    I deferred to her experience without hesitation.


    No matter how infamous I’d become or how capable I thought I was, my three years of fieldwork were nothing compared to Leora’s seasoned expertise. She moved through the village like a force of nature, knowing exactly who to talk to, what to say, and how to coax the truth out of even the most tight-lipped locals.


    For me, staying by her side was equal parts fun and educational. Leora had a sharp wit and an even sharper tongue, which she wielded with precision. Watching her work was like attending a masterclass in information gathering.


    By the time night fell, we’d gathered plenty of intel—though much of it felt like chasing smoke.


    The elusive figure we were after went by the alias Ulrich. No one seemed to agree on what he looked like. Some claimed he was a pale nobleman with a haughty air, while others swore he was a decrepit old man. A few described him as a young boy, while others insisted he was a cute little girl or an androgynous hunter. The conflicting descriptions were frustrating, but they also told us one thing: Ulrich was odd. Uncanny. Odd. Disfigured. It was more of a sixth sense thing than anything substantial.


    Then came the breakthrough—an unexpected gem of a lead from the most unlikely source.


    Leora and I had been talking to a group of teens hanging out near the marketplace, mostly hoping for scraps of gossip, when one of them—a scrawny kid with an oversized camera slung around his neck—produced something incredible.


    “I think I’ve seen this guy you’re looking for,” he said, his voice cracking with excitement. “I mean, I don’t know for sure, but check this out!”


    He fumbled with his camera, pulling up a picture on the screen. The image was grainy, clearly taken in haste, but it was unmistakably a person.


    In the center of the frame was a heavyset man wearing thick glasses, his face mid-transformation into something grotesque. His skin seemed to be sloughing off in patches, revealing a dark, glistening substance beneath.


    Leora stared at the image, her lips curling into a bemused smile. “So… Otaku A, huh?”


    I couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity. “He really does look like the cliché, doesn’t he?”


    The kid beamed at our reactions, clearly proud of his contribution. We compensated him generously—more than he probably expected—and he practically skipped away, leaving us with the magically developed picture. The camera had been a Maker artifact.


    As we walked back toward Selena’s base, I glanced at the image again, trying to reconcile it with the scattered descriptions we’d heard earlier. “You think this is really him?”


    Leora shrugged. “Could be. The transformation fits with the whole ‘conjurer with eldritch ties’ thing you mentioned. But we can’t be sure until we find him.”


    I nodded, slipping the photo into my pocket. “At least we’ve got something concrete now. It’s better than chasing shadows.”


    Leora’s smile faded, replaced by a thoughtful expression. “True. But don’t let your guard down. If this Ulrich is as dangerous as he seems, he’s not going to make it easy for us to find him. And if he’s connected to Ayla in any way…”


    I didn’t need her to finish the sentence. Ayla’s sudden reappearance and the ring she’d planted on me were already complicating matters. If she was involved with Ulrich, directly or indirectly, it could mean trouble for everyone.


    For now, though, we had a lead—a face to match the name.


    And tomorrow, we’d start hunting in earnest.