Something about him felt...off.
Cain narrowed his eyes slightly, studying him for a moment longer than necessary.
"Buffer," Quasi said, as though that alone was enough to explain everything about this strange person.
Buffer?
Cain’s brows drew together slightly at the vague introduction.
Was that his name? His role or his ability?
The word didn’t give him anything concrete to work with, and while questions surfaced almost immediately, he chose not to voice them.
He’d already left a poor impression by being late; there was no point drawing any more attention to himself.
Quasi didn’t elaborate either. He simply moved on.
"And last..."
Cain’s eyes widened the moment his gaze landed on the final person.
He recognized who this person was.
It was Isaac.
The same Isaac from the academy.
The one he had called when he had nowhere left to go.
Isaac looked... the same, at a glance. His build hadn’t changed much, and his gear was what you’d expect from someone at his level: light combat wear, functional, nothing excessive, with a sword resting at his side.
"This is Isaac," Quasi said. "D-Rank."
Isaac gave a short nod at the introduction, then his gaze shifted and landed directly on Cain. For a brief moment, they both stared at each other before Isaac broke it off with a scowl.
"What the hell are you looking at?"
Cain looked away.
The fact that Isaac didn’t recognize him settled something in his chest.
"Alright, Cain. Introduce yourself," Quasi said.
Cain adjusted his grip slightly on the staff before speaking.
"I’m Cain. A D-Rank flame... mage."
"Why did you hesitate? You sound like you’re not even sure what you are," Isaac said.
Cain, however, didn’t respond.
Isaac found that offensive.
"You bastard..."
"Calm down, Isaac," Barack cut in, his tone firm but controlled. "It’s possible he just awakened recently and doesn’t know how things work yet."
Barack turned toward me.
"Is that right?"
"That’s true," Cain said, keeping his voice even. "I just got my hunter’s license today."
Isaac let out a quiet scoff, clearly unimpressed.
"So he’s not academy-bred," he said, his voice lowering slightly but not enough to hide the intent. "If that’s the case, should we really let him join us? He’ll be more of a liability than anything."
"What exactly is that supposed to mean?"
Hela’s voice cut in, a cold pressure spreading from her, subtle at first, then sharper, forcing the air around them to tighten slightly.
"I’m not academy-bred either. Does that mean I shouldn’t be here?"
Isaac froze.
"That’s not what I meant..."
"Enough!" Adel’s voice was soft, but it carried just enough weight to interrupt the tension before it escalated. "We shouldn’t be arguing before entering a rift."
Quasi nodded.
"She’s right."
His gaze moved across the group before settling briefly on Isaac and Barack.
"Whether Cain has experience or not, we cannot enter without him."
"We could find someone else," Barack suggested.
"And how long would that take?" Quasi shot back. "We’ve already waited hours before the association found him. I’m not waiting again."
He turned toward Cain.
"He understands the risks of entering a rift, doesn’t he?"
Cain met his gaze and nodded.
"I do."
But beneath the words, Cain could hear what wasn’t being said.
Once they stepped inside, whatever happened to him... was his responsibility.
No one here was going to go out of their way to protect him.
"Fine then," Barack said, raising both hands slightly. "You’re the captain."
Isaac clicked his tongue, clearly dissatisfied, but didn’t push further.
Cain glanced at him briefly before looking away.
He couldn’t tell whether Isaac simply didn’t recognize him or if there was something else beneath that reaction.
Also, Isaac was a D-Rank hunter. The same as him now. Yet he spoke as though there was a clear gap between them.
Because I didn’t attend the academy?
Little did he know.
Even if that were true, it didn’t change anything.
What he had gone through over the past three months wasn’t something the academy could have taught him. Experience like that couldn’t be learned in a classroom.
Now that the argument was over, Quasi stepped forward slightly, drawing the group’s attention as we prepared to go in.
"The moment we step into the rift," he said, his voice steady but firm, "every one of us is at risk. Stay alert. Stay sharp."
"Yes, captain," the group responded, almost in unison.
Cain followed a beat behind, still adjusting to the structure.
"And one more thing," Quasi added, his tone shifting slightly, just enough to carry a different weight.
"Liabilities will not be tolerated."
Did it apply to everyone equally, or was he the exception?
Quasi didn’t look at him when he said it. But he didn’t need to.
The meaning was clear.
The only question was how far Quasi was willing to take that rule.
Cain didn’t know, but he knew one thing for certain: he couldn’t afford to make mistakes in there.
Isaac let out a quiet, mocking snort from the side, though Cain paid him no attention.
His focus had already shifted forward, toward the rift.
Beneath it, a series of circular plates had been embedded into the ground, arranged with precise symmetry around its base.
Each plate was divided into clean segments separated by faint glowing lines, and after a glance, Cain counted eight of them.
These weren’t decorative.
They represented the entry requirement of the rift, the fixed number of hunters permitted to enter at one time.
Every rift had them.
Some required five hunters, others seven, ten, or even twelve, but while the number varied, the rule never did.
Across every recorded instance, there had never been such a thing as entering alone.
The lowest requirement on record had always been three.
Never one. Never two.
So...
Cain’s gaze lingered on the flicker of light from the system that cut across his vision.
...Why the hell am I being asked by the system if I want to enter alone?