Outside Alex's Brooklyn Apartment - 10:45 PM
Alex was brushing his teeth when he heard the car engine. Living on the third floor of a converted brownstone had taught him to recognize the usual sounds of his neighborhood—the rattle of Mr. Kim's delivery truck, the bass-heavy music from the college students next door, the occasional police siren from the main street.
This was different. The engine was too quiet, too smooth. Expensive.
Curious despite his growing paranoia, Alex moved to his window and peered through the gap in his blackout curtains. Under the amber streetlight sat a black sedan that definitely didn't belong in his working-class neighborhood. The kind of car that guild executives drove—sleek, armored, probably worth more than Alex made in three years.
No way, he thought, but his stomach was already dropping. They can't have found me this quickly.
He watched for several minutes, but nothing happened. The car just sat there, engine idling, its tinted windows revealing nothing about whoever was inside. A few neighbors walked past without giving it a second glance, but Alex noticed that Mrs. Rodriguez from the first floor kept looking at it nervously from her window.
At 11 PM exactly, the car door opened.
The woman who emerged was everything Alex expected from a guild recruiter—professional, intimidating, and clearly not from Brooklyn. She wore a charcoal business suit that probably cost more than his monthly rent, and moved with the fluid confidence of someone accustomed to being the most dangerous person in any room. Her dark hair was pulled back in a severe bun, and even from three floors up, Alex could see the subtle glow of awakened enhancement in her eyes.
She walked directly to his building's front door.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Alex's hands were shaking as he heard the buzzer for his apartment. The harsh electronic sound cut through the night silence like an alarm, and he stood frozen in his small space, debating whether to answer.
The buzzer rang again. Then a third time, longer and more insistent.
Finally, Alex pressed the intercom button with a trembling finger. "Hello?"
"Mr. Alex Chen?" The voice was crisp, professional, with just a hint of an accent he couldn't place. "My name is Director Skylar Hunt from Silver Moon Guild. I'd like to speak with you about a business opportunity."
Silver Moon Guild. Alex's mind raced through what he knew about them. Mid-tier organization, maybe fifteenth or twentieth in the national rankings. Respectable but not elite—the kind of guild that would be hungry for talent and willing to take risks on unconventional recruits.
"It's pretty late," Alex said, stalling for time. "Maybe we could talk tomorrow—"
"I'm afraid this can't wait, Mr. Chen. We have reason to believe you may have been... underestimated in your current classification. May I come up?"
Underestimated. The euphemism made Alex's blood run cold. Someone had definitely seen something they shouldn't have.
"I... I don't understand what you mean," Alex tried, but his voice sounded weak even to himself.
"Mr. Chen." Director Kim's tone became firmer, though not quite threatening. "I've been standing outside your building for forty-five minutes. During that time, I've identified three separate surveillance positions monitoring this location. Whatever happened today has attracted attention from multiple parties. We can discuss this in the privacy of your apartment, or we can continue to have this conversation over an intercom while unknown parties record every word."
Three surveillance positions? Alex felt the walls of his small world collapsing around him. Who else was watching him? How had things spiraled out of control so quickly?
With no real choice, Alex buzzed her up.
The three minutes it took for Director Kim to climb to his floor felt like an eternity. Alex used the time to frantically clean his apartment—shoving dirty clothes into his closet, stacking camera equipment more neatly, and hiding the umbrella he'd been using for sword practice under his bed.
When the knock came, Alex opened the door to find that Director Hunt was even more intimidating up close. She was probably in her early thirties, with sharp features and the kind of controlled presence that suggested significant combat experience. Her business card was already in her hand as she stepped into his apartment.
"Thank you for agreeing to meet," she said, glancing around the cramped space with professional assessment. "I apologize for the late hour, but circumstances require urgency."
Alex closed the door and gestured awkwardly toward his bed-couch. "Please, sit. Can I... can I get you something to drink? Water? Coffee?"
"Water would be fine." Director Kim settled onto the edge of the bed with perfect posture, her suit somehow remaining wrinkle-free despite the informal seating. "Tell me, Mr. Chen, how long have you been working as a freelance camera operator?"
"About eight months," Alex replied, fetching a glass of water from his kitchenette. His hands were still trembling slightly, and he hoped she wouldn't notice. "Since graduating from the DMB certification program."
"And in those eight months, how many times have you personally witnessed a D-rank monster being eliminated by an F-rank Awakened?"
The question hit like a physical blow. Alex nearly dropped the water glass as he turned to face her. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Director Hunt accepted the water with a slight smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Mr. Chen, let's not insult each other's intelligence. Our guild has contacts throughout the DMB. We know about the classification error at Hudson River Gateway today. We know about the Tunnel Worm that appeared in a 2-star dungeon. And we know that the official report lists Marcus Wong as delivering the killing blow."
She paused to take a sip of water, letting the implications hang in the air.
"What the official report doesn't mention is that Marcus Wong was unconscious when the creature died. It also doesn't mention that three separate eyewitnesses saw an F-rank camera operator execute a perfect Lightning Slash technique with a piece of rusted rebar."
Alex felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. "That's... that's impossible. F-ranks can't—"
"Can't copy B-rank techniques with perfect precision? Can't demonstrate combat skills they've never been trained in? Can't somehow manifest awakened abilities that weren't there during their initial classification?" Director Hunt leaned forward slightly. "You're absolutely right, Mr. Chen. It is impossible. Which makes you either the most interesting person I've met this year, or the most dangerous."
The system interface flickered to life in Alex's peripheral vision:
[HIGH-LEVEL THREAT DETECTED][SUBJECT: B-RANK AWAKENED, UNKNOWN SPECIALIZATION][DECEPTION PROBABILITY: 87.3%][RECOMMEND: EXTREME CAUTION]
B-rank? Alex tried to keep his expression neutral while processing this information. Director Kim was significantly more powerful than she appeared, and the system was warning him that she was likely lying about something.
"I think there's been a mistake," Alex said carefully. "I'm just a camera operator. Whatever you think you saw—"
"What I think," Director Kim interrupted, "is that you're sitting on an ability that could revolutionize how we understand awakened powers. Skill mimicry is the holy grail of combat enhancement—the ability to observe and replicate techniques from other fighters. There are maybe three people in the world with confirmed mimicry abilities, and they're all S-rank legends."
She stood up smoothly, moving to his window and peering out through the curtains. "But here's what concerns me more than your potential value as a recruit. Those surveillance positions I mentioned? They're not all from guilds. At least one of them appears to be federal."
Federal? Alex's mouth went dry. "Why would the government be interested in me?"
Director Hunt turned back to face him, her expression serious. "Because awakened individuals with unprecedented abilities have a tendency to disappear, Mr. Chen. Sometimes they join classified research programs. Sometimes they suffer mysterious accidents. Sometimes they simply vanish from public records entirely."
She reached into her jacket and pulled out a business card, setting it on his small table. "Silver Moon Guild is offering you protection, training, and a legitimate path to develop your abilities. We're not the biggest organization, but we're independent enough to keep government attention minimal and strong enough to protect our people."
Alex stared at the card, his mind racing. "And if I refuse?"
"Then you continue living here alone, hoping that whatever happened today doesn't happen again in a more public setting. You keep pretending to be F-rank while developing abilities that will inevitably draw more attention. And you pray that the next person who comes knocking is as reasonable as I am."
The implicit threat was clear, though delivered with professional courtesy.
Director Hunt moved toward the door, then paused. "One more thing, Mr. Chen. Whatever system or method you're using to develop these abilities—be very careful about trusting it completely. The world of awakened powers has depths that most people never imagine. Not every gift comes without a price."
With that cryptic warning, she was gone, leaving Alex alone with her business card and the growing certainty that his life had just become infinitely more complicated.
Through his window, Alex watched the black sedan pull away. But as Director Hunt had warned, it wasn't the only car on his street. Two other vehicles remained, their occupants invisible behind tinted glass.
They're all watching me, Alex realized with growing dread. The guilds, the government, God knows who else.
The system interface materialized with a new message:
[MULTIPLE RECRUITMENT ATTEMPTS PREDICTED][RECOMMENDATION: EVALUATE ALL OPTIONS CAREFULLY][WARNING: SOME INTERESTED PARTIES MAY NOT HAVE YOUR BEST INTERESTS IN MIND]
Alex picked up Director Hunt's business card. Silver Moon Guild. Protection, training, legitimacy. It sounded too good to be true—which, in his experience, usually meant it was.
But what were his alternatives? Stay here and wait for the next recruiter to be less polite? Try to handle this situation alone while federal agents watched his every move?
Twenty-four hours ago I was just a failed F-rank with camera equipment, Alex thought. Now I'm apparently some kind of strategic asset.
His phone buzzed with a text from Marcus: "Everything ok? Heard some chatter about guild activity in your area."
Alex stared at the message for a long moment before typing back: "We definitely need to talk tomorrow."
Marcus (Iron Wolf): "Understood. Be careful tonight. Things are moving fast."
As Alex prepared for bed, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was his last night of anything resembling a normal life. Tomorrow's coffee with Marcus would set him on a path that would either lead to incredible power and opportunity, or to something far more dangerous than he could imagine.
The system interface provided one final update before fading:
[SLEEP CYCLE OPTIMIZATION REQUIRED][SIGNIFICANT DECISIONS APPROACHING][REST WELL, OBSERVER. TOMORROW CHANGES EVERYTHING.]