We entered the village silently. No one spoke—not even those who had been excited at first. It felt as if we had stepped into a world closed in on itself, watching us from behind walls and windows.
The houses here were made of wood and stone, simple yet sturdy. No bright colors, no decorations—just gray walls and silent wooden doors.
Minutes passed before I noticed them.
The villagers.
They did not approach but observed from a distance. Women carrying buckets of water, children peeking from behind windows, men standing at corners. Their gazes were cold, cautious, as if studying us.
"They don't look friendly..." someone murmured beside me.
I said nothing.
I was busy trying to understand the strange feeling in my chest—a mix of anxiety and detachment, as if I had entered a dream unlike any other.
We continued walking behind the employer, who strode steadily as if he knew the way well. After several narrow streets, we arrived at a small square dominated by a building that seemed modern compared to the others. At its door, a simple sign read: "Hunting Office – Vilona Branch."
Vilona… the name of the village.
The employer stopped, then turned to us and said:
"This is the place. Wait here; I will go in first."
He entered, leaving us standing. Some men exchanged glances; some sat on the ground without speaking.
As for me… I watched the sign, as if it held all the mysterious fate that was about to come.
...
This village was different. I don't know how, but there was something that set it apart from the first village we passed through. The air was heavier here, and the silence seemed charged with an invisible tension. It was as if the place held hidden secrets, and its people watched us with a caution I had never seen before.
After several minutes of waiting, the employer emerged from the building, his face stern and his tone firm:
"I will divide you into four groups, each group consisting of ten people. Each group will enter the office to register the names of its members along with the abilities or skills that each person can use to assist in hunting. I will stay here and handle the rest."
My heart pounded. Clear order and organization—no room for chaos.
I was in the second group. We moved toward a small side door leading inside the office. The forty-year-old man was in the first group, the teenage boy in the third, and Luxian in the fourth.
We entered the office together. The place was narrower than I expected but very organized. The walls were adorned with large paintings depicting various monsters, alongside detailed information about their habitats and dangers. On one wall hung a large map of the area, covered with moving markers indicating current hunting locations.
In front of us were old wooden tables, covered with registration papers and simple wooden pens. In the corner, small locked metal boxes—perhaps for storing hunting trophies or special equipment.
The lighting was dim, coming from oil lamps hung on the walls, giving the place an atmosphere of both mystery and antiquity.
We all sat in our places and began writing our names and abilities. I looked around at my fellow group members' faces, reading in their expressions a mixture of fear and determination.
This was the real beginning... a step that could change my life in this new world forever.
...
I wrote my name... but then stopped abruptly.
I faced a problem bigger than just writing—a problem weighing heavily on my heart: what could I offer to help with hunting? The honest truth was that I had nothing to speak of. I was not like the employer who had a supernatural ability, nor like the brave Luxian, nor the clever teenage boy, nor even the mysterious forty-year-old man.
I was truly helpless.
Minutes passed as I thought, watching those around me finish writing their skills and approach the employer. Time was running out, and I had only moments left to decide what to write.
Then I remembered something simple... something that might seem trivial but was practical. I had always taken out the trash at home, so collecting remains of monsters or the rewards they dropped after defeat wasn't so different.
With a trembling hand, I wrote that down. Maybe they wouldn't accept what I wrote, but that was all I could say, all I had.