Hank turned toward the kitchen, preparing to marinate the wild beast meat. The house gradually fell into silence, save for the occasional crackling of firewood burning in the hearth.
Ryan walked over to a corner of the house and lay down, shutting his eyes. Hank's words still echoed in his mind
—Enhancers. Lumin Cores. The power of Wild Beasts. Fragments of information swirled in his thoughts—keys to survival in this world, things he had to understand.
The floor was hard, but exhaustion took him quickly.
So even in another world, I still need sleep…
His consciousness blurred. The faint glow of the dying hearth flickered across his face as he drifted off.
Ryan was deep in slumber when a rough voice jolted him awake.
"Get up! We're heading to the west gate!"
Ryan jolted awake, disoriented, his head thick with sleep. He rubbed his eyes and squinted out the window. Darkness still clung to the sky. Realizing he'd been shaken from sleep, he mumbled, "What time is it?"
Hank threw on his cloak and shot him a glance. "About sixth bell."
Ryan rubbed the sleep from his eyes."How do you even know what time it is?"
Hank stared at him like he was an idiot. "The Crimneth."
"The what now?"Ryan blinked.
"Gods above," Hank dragged a hand down his face. "More and more, I'm doubting whether you're even from this world."
Without another word, he grabbed Ryan's arm and pulled him outside. He pointed at the sky, where a crimson moon hung low. "There. The Crimneth."
"Oh. The moon." Ryan muttered under his breath.
Hank didn't seem to hear him. He continued, "The Crimneth darkens every hour, never failing. Combine that with its position, and you've got the time."
"Right..."Ryan nodded like any of that made sense, then quickly changed the subject.
"You still haven't told me—what's this about leaving the city?"
Hank gestured for Ryan to follow, speaking as they walked. "Once every seven days, the gates open for Huntsday—when people are allowed into the wilds to hunt the Wild Beasts. It's not just about feeding the city; the real prize is the Lumin Cores." He shot Ryan a sideways glance. "And today's the day."
"Hunting Wild Beasts?" Ryan's mind immediately went to the terrifying image of the Galebeast. "Wait—don't tell me we're going out to hunt too?"
Hank let out a short laugh. "You kidding? That's suicide. Hunting's for the Wildhunter Corps and the mercenary bands. We're just scavenging."
Ryan frowned. "And scavenging isn't dangerous?"
Hank went quiet for a moment, kicking a pebble. "Most scavengers follow the hunters' trail, picking through the prey they've casually killed but looked down upon. But yeah… it's still risky."
Ryan sighed. "Sounds like a terrible plan."
"It is.Usually just means hauling carcasses for slop-meal,"Hank shrugged. "That's why most sign on as hired hands."
"Hired?" Ryan raised a brow.
"Yeah. The Wildhunter Corps and the mercenary bands hired scavengers to follow them. After they take down a beast, the scavengers move in—collecting and hauling off the trophies."
Ryan's eyes flickered with a hint of doubt. "So... are we getting hired?"
"Nope." Hank flashed a grin, something almost mischievous in his eyes. "I'll explain later."
Ryan stayed silent, walking with his head slightly lowered in thought.
Hank hadn't laid out his plan yet, but one thing was clear—going outside the city meant danger. Real danger.
And if things went sideways, he might not make it back to his world at all.
A thought crept into his mind—what if he just stayed behind? Found a safe place to hide inside the city and waited out the countdown? That way, at least, he could guarantee his survival.
As Ryan mulled it over, Hank steered him down a quiet, somewhat hidden street, stopping in front of a shop with a distinctive look.
The building's pale brown stone walls gave off a solid, weathered vibe, and a carved wooden sign hung above the door in elegant script:Raymon's Beast Emporium.
Ryan glanced at the shop door, a puzzled expression crossing his face. Thought we were heading for the gates?"
Hank flashed him a grin, keeping his voice low."Gotta borrow something first."
Dawn had yet to break, and the shop wasn't officially open, but the door stood slightly ajar.
Hank nudged it open, the hinges letting out a faint creak.He turned to Ryan and reminded him, "Be careful what you say in there."
The moment they stepped in, the air hit them—thick with the coppery tang of blood and the damp rot of aging hides. Ryan's nose wrinkled.
The dim light from a few oil lamps swayed overhead, casting long shadows across the wooden counter, where dried beast meat lay stacked beside weapons and trinkets carved from bone.
The walls were a macabre gallery: pelts, fangs, claws, and several massive horns that could only be trophies from something straight out of a nightmare.
A young shophand was rearranging jars of beast parts behind the counter. He looked up, spotting Hank, and jerked his chin toward the back. "Boss is waiting for you."
Without another word, the assistant led them through the cluttered back of the shop. Ryan noted several partitioned rooms, one of which had its door half-open. Inside, workers were hunched over a massive carcass, carving it apart as blood pooled onto the stone floor, the stench thick and suffocating.
They moved on, stopping at a heavy wooden door. The assistant knocked twice before pushing it open, gesturing for them to enter before slipping away.
Ryan followed Hank inside, where a man in finely tailored clothes sat behind a large wooden desk. His sharp features and piercing gaze marked him as someone who paid attention to the smallest details.
Stacks of ledgers sat neatly by his elbow, a scented candle burned nearby, its rich fragrance dulling the lingering stench of blood.
He looked up, first at Hank, a brief flicker of familiarity softening his expression, then at Ryan, his gaze turning sharp. "And who's this?"
Hank didn't hesitate. "My buddy, Ryan." Then, glancing at Ryan, he added, "This is Raymond, the boss here."
Ryan offered a polite nod. "Pleasure to meet you,sir."
Raymond barely acknowledged him, attention snapping back to Hank."You sure there won't be any trouble?"
Hank's expression turned serious. "Don't worry.There won't be."
Raymond studied him for a moment, then gave a slight nod of approval. "Good. Follow me."