Cain followed the coordinates into the lower district, a notorious stretch of the city known as Neon Row.
He moved through the bustling streets, his soaked hoodie clinging to him, his body shivering from the relentless chill.
Laughter, shouting, and the occasional blast of music filled the air, creating an almost overwhelming sensory overload.
Street vendors peddled cheap food under tattered awnings, and groups of rowdy drunks stumbled between establishments, their revelry masking the darker dealings taking place beneath the surface.
It was the perfect place to conduct illegal business.
The Guild Association was usually watchful of people his age in these streets, as those young men were the ones the organization behind the illegal serum tended to use, so he couldn’t afford to be careless.
Cain blended into the crowd with practiced ease, becoming just another nameless figure among the late-night wanderers.
A group of rowdy men laughed as they stumbled out of a bar, shoving each other playfully.
He matched their pace, letting their drunken energy shield him from prying eyes.
At the academy, they taught students how to move unseen, how to track without being noticed. But few paid attention to those lectures.
Stealth wasn’t needed in a dungeon, as monsters didn’t care how quietly you moved.
It was a skill for Guild Association hunters, the ones who dealt with criminals, hunters gone rogue, not dungeon monsters. And hardly anyone wanted that job. Not even Cain. But Cain had paid attention. Now, he was utilizing those skills.
From the info he had, the serum deals didn’t happen in fixed locations.
The dealers always changed their drop points to avoid Guild Association raids.
But no matter how careful they were, they all shared one telltale sign: paranoia.
This was because these sellers were young men like himself.
Boys who had awakened with a low rank and had no place in the world of hunters.
Inexperienced and brought into a dangerous world of illegal dealings.
Cain’s eyes flicked across the street, scanning faces, body language, and micro-reactions. The vendors peddled their wares, drunkards stumbled in and out of bars, and couples whispered sweet nothings beneath dimly lit awnings.
Nothing seemed out of place from what he’d seen, and he’d been watching for hours now.
He moved further down, past a series of narrow alleyways, past a row of cheap motels where neon lights buzzed overhead. But still, he found nothing.
Hours dragged on, and doubt gnawed at him.
What if he was wasting his time? What if the deal had already happened and he just wasn’t aware?
The cold seeped into his bones, and his stomach twisted with hunger.
He hadn’t eaten properly in days, too anxious about the Awakening Ceremony to even think about food. Now, thinking back on it, he should’ve just eaten... because now, he couldn’t.
As he searched with no progress, he thought to himself:
Maybe this was a mistake. What the hell was I thinking? Planning to steal an illegal serum from criminals.
It was absurd now that he was much calmer and thinking about it.
But he still didn’t let it discourage him.
He couldn’t afford to waver.
He came here with a goal, and he was going to see it through. Even if it meant roaming the streets all night.
It wasn’t like he had anywhere else to go.
Shaking off his doubts, he took a slow breath, sharpening his focus.
Instead of merely looking with his bare eyes, he shifted to mana detection.
Cain tuned out the noise, the chaos, everything but the mana fluctuations in the air.
Every student was trained in mana detection, but unlike the others, Cain had a rare talent: he could sense emotions through mana.
Not with perfect accuracy, but enough to get a rough idea.
As he searched, he felt waves of fear, tension, and excitement bleeding into the atmosphere. The slums were thick with unease, but most of it was just background noise. Ripples. Disturbances in the natural flow of energy.
Cain clenched his head. Mana detection took intense focus, and the strain was setting in.
For a while, he sensed nothing unusual, just the same chaotic energy as before. But then, there was a tremor, subtle but distinct, a pocket of unease buried in the indifferent crowd.
It was strong. Too strong. And Cain’s gut told him this was it.
Cain pushed forward without hesitation, weaving through the moving crowd. Then, beneath the glow of a flickering streetlamp, he spotted someone different.
A young man who looked jittery and restless.
He shifted his weight from foot to foot as his anxious eyes darted around. His movements were rushed and erratic, like someone expecting trouble.
That’s when Cain felt it, an otherworldly energy radiating off the young man.
But it wasn’t coming from the man, but rather from something he possessed.
"That’s gotta be it," Cain muttered to himself, his heart racing. "The serum."
There was no doubt about it. This had to be his target.
The young dealer moved, slipping through the crowd with quick, deliberate steps, and Cain followed silently, using the crowd as a shield.
The dealer kept looking around and glancing back cautiously, and Cain figured he was most likely new to this.
The pursuit led to a bustling outdoor restaurant, neon signs flickering overhead.
The dealer stopped, moving toward a man already seated at a corner table. Dressed in a plain overcoat, a fedora tilted just low enough to shadow his eyes, and a pair of simple glasses, the second man exuded an air of quiet normalcy.
He looked like any other office worker, someone who had just finished a long shift and stopped for a late meal. But Cain knew better.
Unlike the nervous dealer, this man exuded confidence. His posture was relaxed, but there was a weight to his presence, an aura that felt dangerous.
Cain could sense it. This was a high-ranking hunter.
Cain tensed, forcing himself to stay calm. If this were the buyer, then things just got a lot more complicated.
Moving closer, he knew he needed to blend in. So, without hesitation, he stepped into the restaurant and took a seat at a nearby table.
A waitress approached, and he ordered a meal.
He wouldn’t be eating. Hell, he couldn’t even pay. But none of that mattered. Right now, he needed to play the part of just another customer.
Cain took a slow sip of water, his gaze fixed downward. His focus, however, wasn’t on the table in front of him; it was on the reflection in the mirror beside him, to see what was happening.
The dealer’s hands trembled as he reached into his coat, pulling out a small, tightly wrapped package. Cain didn’t need to see what was inside.
He could feel it.
The mana pulsating from within was undeniable.
The buyer leaned forward, calm and composed.
The briefcase beside him likely carried stacks of credits, a fortune for a single vial.
Cain’s grip on the glass tightened. If that package reached the buyer, it was over. There was no way he could steal it from a high-ranking hunter.
His only chance was intercepting it now, before the deal was sealed.
But that was impossible, which was fine.
He wasn’t here for the serum. He was here for the handler.
Even if the buyer left with the serum, he could follow the handler, strike up a conversation even if they had to fight, and get him to take him to those behind it, so he could purchase this serum.
Now, there was a high chance they would simply kill him, but if he used the Wright name, which was highly revered and feared, as a weapon, maybe negotiation could work.
Cain tensed, pushing his chair back slightly. His plan was a stretch. It was foolish. It was dangerous. Definitely crazy. But he was going to do it.
He waited, watching the dealer and the buyer speak for a bit.
And just when the two were about to make the exchange, a voice cut through the night like a whip.
"Nobody move!"