The next day, there were no classes scheduled, but Kana had been summoned by the student council regarding her assigned duties.

  As she entered the room, she saw Jorge and Elle were seated with another older student—someone Kana didn’t immediately recognize. The three of them seemed mid-discussion, papers and documents spread across the table.

  “Kana, you’re here—come, have a seat,” Elle said, gesturing warmly.

  “This is about the charity program for the children in the slum district. The situation there has worsened recently, so we’ve going to change the schedule. We’re planning to pass the responsibilities to him starting next month and rotation will be for third and fourth year student council members only.”

  Elle motioned toward the older student.

  “Name’s Shaun Dawn,” the young man said, offering a small nod. “Fourth year, class is [Esper]. This is technically our second meeting, but the first time we’re speaking. Nice to meet you properly, Kana.”

  “Kana,” she said simply. “First year, [Ranger].” She gave a curt nod in return. Unlike most nobles she’d met, Shaun had a calm energy to him—something more like Leo. He didn’t seem to care about bloodlines or reputation.

  Elle continued, “So Shaun will be assisting you about his task that will be handed over to you. Until the next rotation of duties.”

  “I’d like to refuse,” Kana said.

  The room quieted. Both Elle and Jorge looked at her, frowning in confusion.

  “I have plans for the children in the slums,” Kana added. “I assure you—what happened last time won’t happen again.”

  Her voice was low and firm. “I’m requesting this duty be assigned to me permanently. Not just for the rotation.”

  Shaun blinked, then chuckled and clapped his hands together. “Well, that solves that.”

  Elle tilted her head, narrowing her eyes slightly. “Are you certain? This isn’t a simple task, Kana. The slums are unpredictable.”

  “I am,” Kana replied with her deep calm voice.

  Elle studied her a moment longer, then slowly nodded. “Very well. If you can show results next month, I’ll assign the slum children’s charity duties to you officially. Not sure if you will get any benefits from it but I can request for a reward if you do a good job.”

  …..

  Kana was invited to a student council meeting, while Suri went for a stroll with Rin. Their classroom, now quiet, felt strangely empty. Boris, with nothing else to do, decided to catch a quick nap at his desk.

  He woke from a firm tap on the shoulder.

  It was Adam, the barbarian. “Wanna come with us?” he asked.

  “Where to?” Boris yawned, stretching his arms.

  Toby stood beside him, a little more energetic than usual. “I’m heading to the adventurer’s guild. They asked me to drop by—it might be a curse-related case.”

  Boris perked up, eyes widening. “You mean… inside?”

  Toby nodded.

  “I’m in!”

  The adventurer’s guild branch in the capital was located right in the heart of the city, tucked between the central and market districts. They considered inviting Roy, the necromancer, but he had been unusually busy lately. In fact, none of them had seen much of him in the past few days.

  It wasn’t surprising that everyone dreamed of joining the adventurer’s guild. But dreams alone weren’t enough—it was notoriously difficult to get in.

  The benefits, however, were undeniable: access to dungeons exclusively owned by the guild, discounted prices on rare drop items, high-paying quests, and, of course, the prestige. The title alone was enough to command respect—being part of the adventurer’s guild was a badge of honor, a mark that you were more capable than most.

  After half an hour of walking, Boris, Adam, and Toby finally arrived at the Adventurer’s Guild branch in the capital. The building stood out—not for its luxury, but for its size and presence. It was modestly built from wood and brick, yet larger than most surrounding houses and structures, with two full stories and a wide frame that hinted at how many people passed through its doors every day.

  Before they could enter, a man standing near the door raised his voice sharply.

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  “Halt! State your business.”

  “The guild sent me a letter,” Toby said, pulling out a small metal plaque, black and gleaming in the light.

  “Ah, I’ve heard of you,” the guild officer replied, inspecting it briefly. “You’re the one who can heal strange diseases, right?”

  Toby nodded.

  The man glanced at Adam and Boris. “They with you?”

  “Yes, they’re my friends. Can they come in with me?” Toby asked, his tone polite but hopeful.

  The man’s stern expression softened into a grin. “Of course. Bet they’re curious to see what it looks like inside.”

  Adam and Boris grinned, trying not to look too eager.

  Inside, the guild was cleaner and more organized than they’d expected. Wide tables filled the main floor, many of them empty, but a few were occupied by adventurers deep in discussion—strategizing over quests, equipment, or rumors, no doubt.

  Weapons lined the walls behind glass, each paired with a short description. Most were probably replicas, but the craftsmanship was still impressive. Adam and Boris paused to inspect a few, pointing at the plaques and whispering to each other, oddly captivated by the history behind them.

  After a few minutes of browsing, Toby gestured for them to follow. He led them up a staircase to the second floor.

  This floor was quieter, lined with a dozen or so rooms of varying sizes. Most had closed doors, but a soft hum of conversation or the faint clink of gear being cleaned could be heard behind a few of them.

  Toby knocked once on the heavy wooden door at the end of the hall. A deep voice, weathered by command, called from within.

  "Come in!"

  He pushed the door open. The man inside stood near a wide desk cluttered with reports, maps, and a half-eaten apple. Late thirties, maybe early forties. Curly dark hair, a long traveling cloak marked by enchanted threads. Mana-class, clearly.

  “You’re finally here,” the man said, flashing a grin as he looked up. Then his gaze shifted behind Toby—toward Boris and Adam, who stepped inside a breath behind. His brow rose.

  “Are they with you?”

  Toby gave a respectful nod. “Yes, Vice Guildmaster Noa.”

  Noa chuckled, the sound rolling out like a satisfied growl. “Well then. You brought muscle. Big ones, too.”

  He gestured toward the chairs in front of the desk. “Interesting combination. Please—sit.”

  They did.

  “We’ve got a case,” Noa continued, picking up a sealed jar from his desk and placing it between them. Inside was...nothing green. Just a wilted, shriveled black mass pressed against the glass.

  “One of our adventurers—Rachelle. Silver-ranked. [Sentinel] class. She was out scouting mountain trails on a mission, nothing dangerous. Then she came across a patch of Elsha.”

  “Elsha?” Boris asked, frowning.

  Toby leaned forward. “That’s just a common plant. We used to boil it for tea.”

  “Yes,” Noa said. “Except this wasn’t green Elsha. The ones she found were black. The entire patch. Dozens of them.”

  He leaned on the desk, serious now. “She tried to pass through. Didn’t think much of it at first. But within hours, her legs went numb—completely unresponsive. She couldn’t stand.. Couldn’t crawl. We didn’t find her until days later.”

  Adam winced. “She survived?”

  “Barely. She’s in the care of the church now. No recovery. No feeling. We’ve tried everything known to us.” He tapped the jar. “This is one of the black Elsha samples we recovered.”

  He turned to Toby. “I want you to try something. If your abilities really can reverse the strange conditions we’ve seen lately, let’s start with this. See if you can restore this plant.”

  Noa’s voice dropped lower, almost hopeful. “If it works—we visit Rachelle next.”

  ……

  Von had grown up in the filth and smoke of the underground district—a place forgotten by the world above, or perhaps willfully ignored. His earliest memories were of sharp hunger, of hands blistered from digging through refuse, of running from shopkeepers with stolen bread tucked in his coat.

  At twelve, his class awakened: [Assassin].

  The very next day, men in black cloaks dragged him from the alleyways he called home and brought him to the temple—if one could call it that. It had no statues to revere. Only shadowed halls, cold stone floors, and teachings carved in blood and silence. There, he learned to kill.

  Not for vengeance. Not for justice. But for coin.

  And it paid better than anything else he’d ever done. An astronomical amount that he stopped caring why they wanted someone dead. He never asked questions. They handed him a name, a face, a price—and he delivered.

  What surprised him most wasn't the first kill.

  It was how much he enjoyed it.

  There was no guilt. Only exhilaration. His skill awakened something deeper—something that whispered in the dark corners of his soul. He was good at this. Better than most. And he wanted more.

  Killing had become a hobby and profession.

  Then came the latest contract—delivered with a ceremonial blade and sealed in black wax.

  The target: students.

  The client: a noble.

  The condition: the kill must happen inside the Academy.

  A strange request. A fetish, perhaps. A grudge, maybe. It didn’t matter.

  Von smiled beneath his hood.

  He was confident, very few [Assassin] had three perfected skills like him and another—reserved for people who were worthy or maybe more insane than him. He never failed and never would.

  Time to kill.