The hair on the back of his neck and arms rose at the memory. He clenched and unclenched his fists as he tried to focus on the present.

  His heart racing, he glanced at the exit.

  The security guards were standing near them. A quick status scan showed Shane that they were both B-ranks, much stronger than him, especially with his skills sealed inside the building.

  A heavy hand settled on his shoulder, jolting him from his thoughts. He would’ve visibly flinched if it weren’t for the [Behavior Lock].

  “Is something wrong?” asked Ryan, wearing a concerned face.

  But the grip reminded him that Ryan, too, was a very competent hunter.

  This was suicide. But signing this paper was worse.

  His hand drifted off the table, resting on his knee. If he flipped the table, he could use that as a distraction and sprint.

  Just when Shane braced himself to bolt, he heard a woman’s voice from behind.

  “Hunter Ashwell?”

  He slowly truned his head.

  Standing in the doorway of a glass-walled office, holding a thick leather folio, was the broker he’d sold The Giant Gloom Viper loot to.

  The broker, Nora, stopped, her eyes widening as they darted between Shane and Ryan.

  She was a far cry from the woman he remembered in the cluttered booth. Today, she wore a sharp suit, and her hair was pinned up in an immaculate chignon.

  ...It reminded him of how his friend used to pin hers up for parties.

  “It is you,” she murmured, taking a tentative step forward before her gaze shifted to the man beside him. “And... oh my. Hunter Rowland? I’ve watched your raids.”

  “I’m flattered,” Ryan said with a practiced, polite smile. “Hunter Ashwell, is she...?”

  He let the question hang, his tone laced with a distinct implication. He was looking at the way Nora had approached them and clearly doing the math wrong.

  Shane felt a spike of annoyance at the assumption that there might be something between them, but with her standing so close, he couldn’t exactly roll his eyes. Not that his [Behavior Lock] would’ve allowed him, anyway.

  “A broker.”

  “Ah. I see.” Ryan accepted the correction with a respectful nod, the implication evaporating from his demeanor seamlessly.

  “Yes, I’m his broker.”

  His?

  Her focus snapped back to Shane.

  “Why didn’t you return to my booth? I kept it open for weeks, just in case.”

  Shit.

  Shane would’ve flinched, had the [Behavior Lock] not clamped down on his spine, keeping his posture rigidly still. Instead, he averted her gaze.

  Nora pressed on.

  “After your—”

  Damn it. He didn’t want to hear this.

  “—investment, I was able to start a brokerage of my own. I was hoping you’d stop by.”

  The word “investment” hit Shane in the gut. He nearly died from the cringe. Actually, he had the same reaction whenever he even remembered what he’d said to her while handing over that freebie.

  He’d acted with an arrogant benevolence of a player trying to max out an NPC’s relationship bar, pretending he knew everything.

  But after realizing this world was real? He couldn’t bring himself to go back to Diamond District quite yet.

  The Gloom Viper fangs had provided him enough cash to float him for months, so he’d been stubbornly hauling minor dungeon loot in his inventory rather than selling it.

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  Yes, it was stupid.

  He was just delaying the inevitable—he’d have to find a buyer at some point—but he wanted to put it off for as long as possible. Honestly, he had already started looking for a new broker to form a contract with, solely to avoid facing her.

  But he’d assumed she was still at Diamond District. He never imagined the loot he’d given her would be enough to help her open her own brokerage.

  Nora looked at Shane, then glanced at the unsigned papers on the counter, then back at Shane’s clenched fists.

  “Hunter Ashwell,” she said softly. “Would you mind if I checked your papers for you?”

  The question paused Shane’s internal spiral. He raised a skeptical eyebrow.

  Why would she want to check them?

  But it couldn’t hurt to get another pair of eyes on the contract, so he moved his chair to create space for her.

  Nora walked over to the counter and picked up the document, scanning it with the terrifying speed of someone who ate fine print for breakfast. Her gaze darted top to bottom, checking the very clauses Shane had mulled over.

  The silence stretched for ten agonizing seconds.

  Finally, she let out a small breath and set the paper down.

  “It’s a standard Clause 4 valuation, Hunter Ashwell. Actually, the indemnity waiver is removed.” She tapped the page emphatically. “This is a solid contract. Well, just what I’d expect from the New York Auction House, to be honest.”

  She gave Shane a tiny, almost imperceptible nod, as if to say he could trust Ryan.

  And, thought he would never admit it upfront, her words drained the tension from his body. With a clearer head, he could see he was thinking pretty irrationally about the whole contract thing.

  He shook the memories away before they could take root.

  “Would that be alright?” asked Nora.

  What?

  Shane squinted, but found himself giving a small, involuntary nod.

  Her face brightened immediately.

  “Great! I was getting worried you’d say no.”

  Damn it, what did he agree to? He wouldn’t have zoned out like that if it weren’t for her distracting hair.

  “Well, I hope you stop by soon,” she said, sliding a sleek business card to him before turning to leave. “I’d love to discuss business properly!”

  Oh.

  She’d been asking him to visit her new office.

  As he slipped the card into his inventory, logic clicked, and he realized why she helped him with the papers just now.

  Securing new clients must be crucial for a startup. So she was hustling. Good for her. He would have to drop by later when he got the time.

  Slowly, Shane picked up the pen again.

  ***

  Stepping past the marble lobby and out the heavy glass doors, Shane let out a sigh.

  Even [Behavior Lock] seemed to acknowledge his exhaustion.

  “You made it through,” Ryan said with a grin, nudging Shane’s arm.

  The guy was still buzzing with energy, a perk of his B-rank stats. For Shane, the whole thing felt more draining than clearing a dungeon. He could feel a layer of sweat on his forehead and had the urge to wipe it away, but his [BehaviorLock] held firm again, keeping his expression locked in a stoic mask.

  And that was the express version, he thought grimly.

  The moment the staff recognized Ryan Rowland, everything had been fast-tracked. Of course, that only meant he was buried in an avalanche of documents in no time.

  He’d eaten barely a few hours ago, but his stomach was already growling. He scanned the street, hoping to spot a taxi to make a quick escape, but luck wasn’t on his side.

  A cluster of men in expensive suit was passing the entrance, deep in conversation, until one of them did a double-take. He stopped, nudged his companion, and looked at Ryan. The recognition was instant.

  The two hadn’t even reached the curb before the group changed course and swarmed Ryan.

  “Hunter Rowland, good to see you!”

  “Are you here for the auction? My father has a keen interest in this one.”

  “Sir, we met at the Guild Gala last year–”

  They were a gaggle of suck-ups trying to curry favor.

  It was unbelievable. Their pitch in this world was identical to back home.

  Shane was more than happy to fade into the background while the heirs of rich families practically climbed over each other to talk to Ryan.

  Alright, my job’s done. Time to go home.

  But Ryan had other ideas. After offering a few polite but brief acknowledgements, he effortlessly parted the crowd and turned right back to Shane before he could slip away.

  “Want to grab something to eat?”

  Shane hesitated. He was starving, but the thought of more social interaction was exhausting. All he wanted was to be alone.

  Ryan must have read it on his face, because he smiled and added, “My treat.”

  “Lead the way.” Shane couldn’t say no to a free meal.

  Though Ryan had turned his attention to him, the heirs, not ready to give up, jumped back in.

  “I know a fantastic place just a few blocks from here! Your friend is welcome, of course.”

  “My family owns a restaurant chain, Hunter Rowland. We could have a private room–”

  Shane didn’t care that he was being ignored. He simply tuned them out.

  Takes guts to ask after the first no.

  ***

  Shane had wondered where rich folks ate in this world.

  Turns out, it was just a local pub.

  Ryan, after getting away from the heirs, had led Shane to a crowded pub downtown that smelled like fried food and stale beer.

  “Another round!” Ryan bellowed, slamming his empty mug on the table.

  “No,” Shane said flatly.

  Dealing with a drunk B-rank hunter was an absolute nightmare.

  While inhaling a burger and some fries, Shane had mostly tuned out Ryan’s rambling.

  Stories about past dungeons.

  Advice he didn’t ask for.

  Shane hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol himself. The last time he’d gotten drunk, he’d woken up trapped in this godforsaken game.

  He wasn’t making that mistake again.

  “...and I’m waving back, quite enthusiastically, mind you. I’m thinking, ‘Wow, Stephen is very happy to see me.’ And then he walks right past and embraces the gentleman behind me!”

  Ryan chuckled at the anecdote, not even caring that Shane didn’t react, letting the noise of the pub wash over the silence between them.

  The B-ranker swirled the dregs of his beer, his gaze drifting from the mug to Shane as his laughter died down. For a split second, the glazed, drunken haze in his eyes cleared, replaced by a sharp, assessing look.

  He slumped back against the booth, resting his arm on the back of the seat, dropping his voice to a low murmur.

  “Good noise cover in here. Best place to talk.”

  Ryan gestured loosely with his mug, though his gaze remained sharp.

  “You know, what you did back there… that wasn’t a normal skill, was it?”