[Café Neon - Business District]
The café had the comfortable setting of a place designed for office workers and solo customers. Floor-to-ceiling windows looked out onto a busy intersection where salary workers hurried past with briefcases and smartphones. Inside, the lighting was warm but not intimate, and conversations blended into white noise that made private discussions possible.
Vorn sat at a corner table, testing something that had occurred to him during the walk from the Bureau building. He concentrated, and his Hunter ID materialized in his palm - not pulled from a pocket or wallet, but summoned from wherever his artifact card resided when not in use.
The card felt solid, real, with the same weight and texture as when the Bureau official had handed it to him. But when he dismissed it, it dissolved into nothing, becoming part of him again.
He repeated the process, timing how quickly he could manifest and dismiss it. The sound was subtle but distinct - like silk being pulled taut, then released. Anyone paying close attention would notice the ID hadn't come from normal storage.
"Interesting development," the slime observed from his shadow. "Your artifact integration is expanding beyond the original card."
Vorn nodded, practicing the summoning motion under the table where other café patrons couldn't see. The implications were significant - if his body could absorb and store physical objects as living extensions, what else might be possible? Weapons, tools, multiple artifacts simultaneously?
Outside the window, a group of young professionals waited at the crosswalk, all dressed in similar dark suits and carrying identical company bags. Their conversation was animated but quiet, discussing some workplace crisis that wouldn't matter to anyone else.
At the counter, a woman in her sixties was ordering something complicated, asking about milk alternatives and sugar substitutes with the patience of someone who had all day. The cashier nodded along politely, clearly used to this type of customer.
---
[Unexpected Company]
The chair across from Vorn shifted as someone settled into it without invitation. He looked up to see a man in his thirties with slightly unkempt hair and a scar running across his jaw. Not intimidatingly muscular, but the kind of person whose presence felt heavier than his physical size suggested.
"Mind if I sit?" the man asked, though he was already seated.
"You already are."
"Fair point." The stranger's eyes flicked to Vorn's hand, where the Hunter ID was materializing and dissolving again. "Neat trick. Don't show that in front of recruiters. You'll be swallowed before you can blink."
Vorn paused the summoning exercise, studying his uninvited companion. Tired but sharp eyes, clothing that looked expensive but worn, hands that showed calluses in specific patterns that suggested weapon use.
"And you are?"
"Renji, been watching you since you left the Bureau building." He gestured toward the window. "You walk like someone trying not to attract attention, but your posture says you're ready for trouble. Contradiction like that catches the eye."
Through the window, the crosswalk crowd had changed. Now it was mostly students from a nearby university, carrying textbooks and backpacks, laughing about something that had happened in class. The energy of the street was different - younger, louder, more chaotic.
"Hmm, so what do you want?" Vorn asked.
Renji leaned forward, lowering his voice. "Listen, rookie - you've got the look of someone the guilds would kill for. And I don't mean that as a metaphor."
At the next table, two business consultants were arguing quietly about client requirements, their laptops open with spreadsheets and presentation slides. One kept checking his phone, clearly stressed about some deadline.
"I see...I just registered," Vorn said. "Independent classification."
"Which makes it worse. Independent hunters with potential are their favorite targets." Renji's expression became serious. "Guild contracts aren't employment - they're ownership. Once you sign, you don't leave until they decide you're not profitable anymore."
The woman at the counter had finished her complex order and was now trying to find exact change in a purse that seemed to contain everything except money. The cashier waited patiently while the line behind her grew longer.
"How does that work exactly?"
Renji touched his neck briefly, and Vorn caught sight of a faint scar that looked like it might once have been some kind of mark. "Binding contracts, n dot just legal - magical. They can track you, compel certain actions, even influence your decision-making if the contract language is written correctly."
"And you know this because?"
"Because I was stupid enough to sign one when I was about your age." Renji's voice carried the weight of experience. "Took me three years and nearly dying twice to buy my way out of it."
Outside, the afternoon sun was hitting the windows of the building across the street, creating a glare that made it hard to see inside the office spaces. But Vorn could make out movement - people at desks, meeting rooms full of gesturing figures, the normal business of a working day.
"Why warn me?"
"Because I don't like seeing kids get crushed by a system they don't understand." Renji stood up, preparing to leave. "Stay independent while you still can. And keep that 'flashy' summoning stuff hidden - abilities like that are exactly what they look for."
The consultants at the next table had resolved their argument and were now packing up their laptops, apparently having reached some kind of compromise. One of them looked relieved, the other resigned.
"That's it? Random advice from a stranger?"
"Random advice from someone who survived long enough to give it." Renji walked toward the café exit, then paused. "Word of warning - guild scouts hang around places like this, looking for fresh registrations. They've probably already noted your ID signature."
He left without waiting for a response, disappearing into the crowd of pedestrians outside.
---
[Quiet Reflection]
Vorn watched Renji's retreating figure through the window, then summoned his Hunter ID one more time. The card materialized with that soft silk sound, solid and real in his palm.
Predators warning him about predators. The irony wasn't lost on him.
At the counter, a new customer was ordering - a young woman with paint-stained fingers who looked like an art student. She was asking about their strongest coffee, preparing for what was probably an all-night project deadline.
The business consultants had vacated their table, leaving behind coffee cups and napkins covered in hastily scribbled diagrams. A café worker was already clearing the space, preparing it for the next customers.
"Binding contracts," Vorn murmured to his shadow. "Magical compulsion, tracking capabilities."
"Standard control mechanisms," the slime confirmed. "Though they would struggle to bind someone with our... unique integration."
That was an interesting consideration. His artifact card had become part of him, not just a tool he carried. His slime contract existed in his shadow, not in any external legal framework. Would normal binding magic even work on someone whose power sources were already integrated so completely?
Outside, the afternoon was shifting toward evening. The street crowd was changing again - fewer business people, more casual pedestrians heading to dinner or entertainment venues. The rhythm of the city adjusting to a different part of the day.
He dismissed the Hunter ID and stood up, leaving money on the table for his coffee. The warning had been useful, but it also raised questions about how much attention his registration had already attracted.
Guild scouts, binding contracts, magical tracking.
All things to consider as he navigated his new official status while continuing his actual development in the city's underground systems.
"I don't plan to be anyone's asset," he said quietly as he left the café.
But the conversation with Renji had made one thing clear - staying independent would require more than just declining offers. In a world where powerful organizations actively hunted for valuable individuals, neutrality might not be a viable long-term strategy.
The game was more complex than he'd realized. And he was going to need better strategies if he wanted to avoid becoming someone else's weapon.