Damian's boots echoed lightly against the cobblestones as he left the shabby little shop. The new outfit fit like it had been tailored for him. light, flexible, yet heavy enough that every movement carried weight.
He adjusted the collar, glancing around the busy streets. For a moment, he almost felt normal.
Almost.
"Warning," the AI chimed in his head. "Three individuals have maintained line-of-sight contact for the last twenty-two minutes."
Damian froze mid-step. "…What?"
"Pattern of surveillance: deliberate. Approach imminent."
And then, as if the AI had summoned them, shadows peeled from the alley ahead.
The first was a girl no older than him, clad in light leathers that hugged her like a second skin. She twirled a dagger between her fingers, eyes sharp and mischievous. Her smirk alone screamed trouble.
The second stepped out with a casual grace, robes flowing like he owned the street. Jewels winked from his hands, and his cold smile was the kind Damian had seen on corporate managers one that never reached the eyes. A noble, without a doubt.
And behind them came the third, silent as the grave. A towering figure, face obscured beneath a hood. His presence pressed down like a physical weight.
The thief girl leaned lazily on the wall, eyes locked on Damian.
"Well, well. You're the rookie everyone's talking about."
Damian instinctively reached for the spear strapped to his back. "…And you are?"
The noble chuckled, raising his chin. "Names don't matter. Think of us as… interested parties."
"Interested in what?" Damian asked cautiously.
"In you," the noble said simply, his voice smooth like oil. "A man who slays wyverns and walks away unscathed. That sort of… talent draws attention."
The thief twirled her dagger again, flashing a sharp grin.
"And opportunities."
The hooded figure remained silent, but his knuckles cracked like grinding stone.
Damian's pulse quickened. The AI whispered:
"Threat level: high. Probability of hostile intent: 78%."
He shifted his stance. "If you're looking for trouble.."
The thief interrupted, darting forward with blinding speed. Steel flashed. In an instant, her blade was at his throat, cold and gleaming.
Damian froze, every nerve on fire.
Her smile widened. "Relax. If I wanted your blood, you'd already be choking on it. I just wanted to see if the rumors were true."
The noble raised a brow. "Well? Are they?"
Damian's grip tightened on his spear. His heart thundered, but he forced himself to meet the man's gaze. "…Why don't you try me and find out?"
For a heartbeat, silence. Then laughter.
The noble's chuckle spread, joined by the thief's playful snicker. Even the hooded giant let out a low, rumbling sound amusement, or perhaps hunger.
The noble leaned closer, voice low and venomous.
"Careful, boy. This city is full of hunters. Some hunt coin. Others… hunt power. And power like yours?" He gestured dismissively, as if tossing away a coin. "It never goes unnoticed."
With that, the three stepped back, melting into the shadows as quickly as they had appeared.
The thief gave him one last wink.
"See you soon, rookie."
And then they were gone.
Damian stood frozen, pulse still racing, spear trembling slightly in his hands.
"Observation: Their strength far exceeds current User capability," the AI noted. "Strategic retreat was the optimal outcome. Survival secured."
Damian exhaled shakily, forcing his grip to loosen. "…Yeah. Survival."
But his mind wasn't calm. Not anymore.
For the first time since entering this world, he felt it: not the thrill of creation, not the rush of leveling up — but the chilling realization that he was prey in someone else's game.
And the hunters had just introduced themselves.