"What the hell was that for?!"
Aren roared, springing upright as pain pulsed through his skull like a gong. In a fit of petty vengeance, he grabbed Raven by the collar and rammed his forehead into hers with all the righteous fury of a gamer losing their last life.
"Aghh!!" he immediately yelped, recoiling and clutching his forehead like it had just been split by divine retribution.
His vision sparked. Stars danced behind his eyelids.
Raven barely flinched.
She blinked once, then smirked at him with the smug satisfaction of a boss character watching a low-level mob try to crit them with a stick.
"You really think you can hurt an S-Rank Hunter like me that easily?" she asked, her voice full of teasing venom.
She straightened herself smoothly, rising from her straddled position atop Aren's chest as though she hadn't just slammed his face into the floor moments ago. She stretched her arms with a feline grace, shoulders rolling with audible pops.
"You're an intriguing E-Rank, you know?" she mused aloud, brushing invisible dust off her shorts as her violet eyes studied him with renewed interest.
"A skill that lets you revive after being killed…?" She tapped her chin, her tone shifting into something more analytical. "That kinda makes you a mini S-Rank—assuming it doesn't burn much mana to activate."
She adjusted her golden-rimmed glasses again, the lenses catching the glow of the dungeon's ambient lava-light. The glint across her eyes made her look half-schemer, half-scholar.
But Aren?
He was already gone.
The moment she got off him, he'd rolled away like a greased weasel and made a beeline for the treasure chest without sparing her a single glance.
"Ooh! The boss' cleaver dropped as loot!" he announced gleefully, practically sparkling as he held up the monstrous blade.
His voice echoed across the room with unfiltered glee, like a child unwrapping birthday presents—if the presents were soul-devouring weapons coated in dried ogre blood.
One by one, the dungeon items shimmered into pixelated particles, vanishing into thin air as they were sucked into his pocket inventory—a spatial storage all awakened Hunters received after transcending their human limits.
The items disappeared with high-pitched hums, signaling automatic transfer.
"This bastard…" Raven muttered, her expression twitching in visible annoyance.
She marched up behind him while he was mid-rummage, her presence practically radiating secondhand embarrassment.
With a sharp THWACK!, she smacked the back of his head with the flat of her palm—hard enough to echo, but not enough to kill him. Sadly.
Aren jerked forward with a grunt.
"Ow! Rude."
"Learn to pay attention to your seniors, brat," Raven snapped, folding her arms like an offended queen. "It's not every day someone like you gets to talk to an S-Rank Hunter."
Her gaze lingered on him longer than she expected—watching the way he casually sorted the last of the drops, completely unbothered by her authority or rank.
I'm gonna recruit this brat.
Her inner voice was sharp with resolve.
Turn him into the greatest Hunter in the world… and make bank doing it.
Her eyes shimmered—not with power or fury—but with pure, unfiltered dollar signs.
While she daydreamed about press releases, sponsorships, and royalty percentages from a partnership with a literal immortal rookie, the last glimmer of the dungeon chest flickered out of existence, signaling that everything had been looted.
Aren dusted his hands off with a satisfied sigh.
"That should do it…" he said, stretching his arms behind his head. "You were saying something?"
He looked over his shoulder with a dumb little grin—completely unbothered, as if she hadn't just smacked the neurons out of him thirty seconds ago.
Raven stared at him.
Then she blinked.
He didn't care.
She'd literally knocked him upside the head and he was more interested in loot drops than her entire existence.
The silence stretched.
Then she sighed, deeply and dramatically.
"Let me get straight to the point…" she said, massaging the bridge of her nose in defeat.
"Be my partner."
Aren arched a brow.
"I already knew you had an odd aura about you the moment I saw you walking on the street," she continued, her tone shifting to something more serious, more rare. "But now that I've seen your skill firsthand… you're worthy."
She planted her fists proudly on her hips, puffing out her chest with performative pride.
"Worthy to be chosen by S-Rank Independent Hunter Raven Presley—codename: Midnight Death!"
She practically shouted the title like a character introducing themselves in an anime opening, waiting for a gust of wind and cherry blossoms to emphasize the moment.
Aren just stared at her.
Unblinking.
Blank-faced.
"..."
He didn't recognize the name.
Didn't care.
Didn't even bother probing the vessel's memories for a list of popular Hunters.
Mortals and their popularity contests…
He sighed internally, his soul old and unimpressed.