I felt incredibly refreshed after a full night’s sleep, like my entire body was brimming with endless energy—

  especially after Rafe made a call and showed me that pink diamond ring.

  Though it radiated with all the Ainsworth clade’s disdain and malice, it was still a globally recognized gem, almost as beautiful as Tuesday.

  I played with it for quite a while, gloved, under the watchful eyes of two masked soldiers holding submachine guns.

  By the time hunger gave me stomach cramps, I finally left the room with the safe and told Rafe to take me to get food.

  When I locked eyes with Rafe, I saw the same thing reflected back at me: a strong urge to speak.

  He somehow found two Snickers bars for me, then drove the SUV provided by the Ainsworth clade down a dark highway for over an hour,

  finally stopping under a single dim gas lamp.

  “You trying to chop me up and feed me to the kangaroos?” I stared out the window at the looming, monstrous trees, slammed the lock on my door with a snap, and reached into my backpack to press the release valve on the vacuum-sealed case.

  “I’d rather eat shit than stay in this haunted place for even one second!”

  Rafe only shrugged. He got out of the car, pulled a card from his wallet, and tapped it against the gas lamp pole.

  One second later, the second lamp lit up—then the third, and the fourth…

  A whole row of old-fashioned gas lamps lit a path carved through the woods, at the end of which stood a beautiful three-story wooden cottage.

  Warm yellow light spilled from its windows. From inside the car, I could just make out the first floor: several small tables, someone holding a large beer mug seated by one of them.

  Rafe tapped on my window without opening the door, then held his phone’s notes app against the glass.

  “This place only serves Hunters. We can eat and talk here.”

  Eat—

  I opened the car door and took a deep breath of the unusually cool summer mountain air. To my surprise, I actually caught the mouthwatering scent of grilled meat on the breeze.

  “If the food sucks…” I swallowed, eyeing Rafe from head to toe and deciding I’d start by eating the meat on his thighs, “you’re paying tonight. I want the most expensive dishes and the priciest wine!”

  The gas lamps were genuine vintage pieces—

  I could tell from the rough casting seams unique to sand molds on the lamp posts.

  Rafe told me these lamps were installed back when this mining zone was first developed, back when they were still digging for iron ore.

  They weren’t Collections to begin with.

  Twenty years ago, the natural gas fueling these lamps came directly from oil fields that had been artificially induced using a Collection.

  After burning for several months, these originally historical relics gradually gained the ability to respond to Nowhere-related phenomena—though they still fell short of becoming actual Collections.

  To keep things low-profile, the bar called Golden Age moved the entire set of gas lamps out to the front entrance, where they now served as decorative gatekeepers.

  One by one, the lamps lit up like magic—though in truth, they simply reacted for a short while to a certain intensity of Collection or Skill. There was really no difference from motion-activated or voice-controlled lighting.

  “What’s the point of this thing? What did you swipe it with just now?”

  I gestured at Rafe’s wallet.

  “I’ve noticed quite a few mass-produced Collections lately.

  Like that contract parchment… and now these lamps.”

  Rafe pulled the card from his wallet and handed it to me.

  “This is my Hunter card. It’s made of paper crafted from a type of moss that grows inside Nowhere. It lets a Hunter channel just a bit of Skill through it.”

  The pale gray card bore nothing but a hastily scribbled name—Rafe—and, beneath it, a glowing paw print. Otto’s print. It flared for a second, then dimmed.

  “That’s my Skill signature,” Rafe said. “It’s what this moss does. Everyone’s Skill is different, so the fluorescent pattern it reacts with is different too. Like a fingerprint. No two ever match.”

  The path wasn’t long. We reached the bar’s heavy wooden door just as the last of the gas lamps flickered behind us. Rafe raised the wrought-iron knocker and gave it a few solid raps, then pulled me behind him.

  The door creaked open. A balding middle-aged man appeared. He gave the glowing card in Rafe’s hand a quick glance, then shifted his gaze to my face.

  “New face. Who am I speaking to?”

  “I’m Liv,” I said. “Really new. Don’t even have a card yet.”

  I wanted to hold the man’s gaze, but the scent of grilled meat drifting through the cracked door almost made me forget how to form a full sentence.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  “Hi... Is the kitchen still open?”

  The bald man chuckled, stepping aside and swinging the door open wide.

  “First time at the Golden Age, huh? Then you have to try the short ribs. On me. Come on in. What’ll you drink?”

  There weren’t many customers in the deep-forest bar at this hour. Just a few scattered tables occupied.

  Through the window, I spotted a young woman lifting a beer mug with both hands and downing golden ale in one breath.

  “Could you please pick for me? Whatever goes best with short ribs.”My mouth was so close to watering.

  “I’ll have the same—he’s buying tonight, so don’t you dare go easy on him.”

  I pointed at Rafe, feeling deliciously wicked. The bald guy—bartender or owner, I still couldn’t tell—smirked beneath his beard and poured each of us a huge glass.

  When the lightly sweet, ice-cold beer slid down my throat, I almost believed heaven existed.

  “Oh, right. Before the second drink—sign your name on the card. It’s simple.”

  The bald man tore open a vacuum-sealed pouch and dropped a deep green card onto the counter. He gestured toward a pen tied to a battered signup book.

  “No need for your real name. Whatever you like being called.”

  I wrote Liv in the center of the card and waited for my second drink.

  “Yeah, you really are new... Go ahead, activate it with your Skill.”

  I let my Skill rise to the tips of my fingers— a little like inflating a balloon— and sent the force flowing smoothly into the card.

  My name lit up with a faint bluish-white glow, as bright and crisp as an LED. It was the name itself that glowed, not any hidden emblem or inscription on the paper.

  Rafe sucked in a sharp breath, surprised. He picked up the card from the bar and turned it over in his hands, examining it closely. While he was distracted, I snatched the beer he'd left on the counter and took several big gulps.

  A satisfied sigh escaped me.

  “She’s the newbie, or are you the newbie?”

  The bald man plucked the card from Rafe’s fingers and slapped it back onto the bar in front of me—not hard, but not exactly gently, either.

  “Don’t pull that rookie stunt in my place. Now—where are you two sitting?”

  My Skill manifested through words. If it chose to make the text glow instead of revealing a hidden symbol, well, that wasn’t impossible. The bald man must’ve assumed Rafe was trying to snoop on my Skill. Stopping him like that? Already made him a decent guy in my book.

  “We’re here to check products. Give us a private room.” Rafe pulled out two orange plastic chips from his wallet—Remn, the smallest denomination of currency in Nowhere, I’d seen them before at the Blue Vulture bar.

  “Of course.”

  The bald man gave me a look that was almost sympathetic. He grabbed a ring of keys from behind the counter, along with a steaming tray piled high with chips.

  He led us along the log-paneled wall up to the second floor, handed the keys to Rafe, and shoved the chips into my arms.

  “If you need anything, just ring the bell. This is the Golden Age. Hunters don’t fight here. You catch my drift?”

  He gave me a wink.

  “Ribs’ll be ready in half an hour.”

  Truly a good man. I nodded in gratitude, and barely waited for Rafe to close the door before pulling the vacuum-sealed glass box from my bag.

  “You’re ruining my good name,” Rafe muttered, rolling his eyes from the edge of my vision. “Taking advantage of a rookie is low. Almost as low as those guys in the minting division. And your acting was terrible.”

  “I wasn’t acting. I just didn’t pretend to know everything,” I said, voice muffled through a mouthful of chips. “The Ainsworth clade is practically royalty around here. If you want to fool them, you have to fool everyone.”

  “I’m someone who’s been raised by my family. Life’s been simple and easy.

  I owned property before I’d ever worked a day in my life, and I’ve had enough savings to never work at all.

  Then I opened the Path under your guidance, walked out of Nowhere, and casually got my hands on a Collection worth tens of millions.

  I’m about to cash it in. At this point, I should feel like the world is beautiful and everyone is my friend.”

  “Then why don’t you?”

  Rafe’s question made me pause with a chip halfway to my mouth.

  “What turned you into this?” he asked, sliding his beer across the table to me. “Just a bit of doubt and you actually tried to kill me. That’s not something normal people do.”

  I went quiet for a moment and placed the glass box on the table.

  “Once I finish my chat with this oceanographer, we can talk about our little secrets. How about it?”

  Rafe pressed the red button, a sharp hiss of air escaped.

  And suddenly, I felt it. Something—watching me.

  Watching me with pure malice.