To Make an Offer (1)

Ms. Emilia and President Talcot ended the hour-long press conference with reassurance.

Nathaniel hadn't said a lot, which was unusual for him, but he managed to keep his cool and maintained the position that the President should not take the whole blame. His presence alone did a lot to subside the concern for the safety of the hunters.

After the conference, Talcot and Emilia left to take care of the families. Talcot was hoping the support from the hunters who'd been healed by Faust could help soothe the grieve and anger of the deceased's family.

No one dared to pose the thought that perhaps Nathaniel had deliberately caused the event to boost his power but Faust could feel the growing speculations. After all, Nathaniel was also the one who'd caught the creature.

A few comments were made here and there on the internet and they were gaining momentum. Faust frowned, tempted to hire someone to bash down the comments before Nathaniel could see them and make a ruckus.

However, compared to retaliation, Faust had a better ally. He found Ms. Emilia's secretary still in Talcot's office, cleaning up the last few reports.

"We need a scapegoat," she said after he posed his concerns. Then, her lips twitched slightly upward. "That can be done. Leave it to me."

"No strings attached?" Faust asked hopefully.

"How unprofessional." She scoffed. "I'll tell you what I want when it's done."

Out of all the people in the world, only she knew his powers. She didn't know everything he could do but she knew that he could do a lot more than anyone else could imagine and that was enough for her. That way, if anything strange happened to Faust, she would be better prepared to deal with it.

Nobody knew her first name; they all knew her as Ms. Belyre and that name in the Cardinal Guild was very well respected for a variety of reasons.

Ms. Belyre knew everything she needed to know and she was at a place she was content with. Those two qualities of her made her Faust's closest ally because she had no reason to disclose his secret.

"Will I see a headline tomorrow?" Faust asked.

"How early you want it?"

"It doesn't matter as long as Nate doesn't pick up on the speculations." Faust waved a hand dismissively. "Early enough to give me a day of peace."

She nodded. "I'll see what I can do." The papers clattered on the glass table as she straightened them.

Nathaniel had decided to stay in the Association a little longer. He looked a little angry last time Faust had seen him, which was only half an hour ago, and Faust presumed he was picking a fight down at the training center again.

As Faust left the office, he felt a chill. It was the same as before and naturally, he sneezed. And then the feeling was gone.

…Perhaps he was just cold, Faust thought. He laughed quietly at himself with a shake of his head and took the elevator down.

Since it was the same chill he'd felt when the giraffe had breathed down his neck, it seemed probable that the giraffe wanted to see him.

A few guards stood by the entrance and they let him in after he showed them his hunter's ID card.

The creature was placed behind a stronger barrier this time and blue light shimmered every now and then when the creature accidentally came in contact.

It'd returned to the shape of a giraffe.

Nathaniel's sword had impaled its body and there was nothing it could do besides sitting perfectly still to lessen the damage.

The giraffe then spoke to him. Its mouth didn't move and the sound was projected directly to his head. It was a deep voice, perhaps even lower than that of the Dark Dragon.

Faust couldn't understand the words but he remembered hearing something similar in tone spoken by the satyr from the first white gate.

"What do you want?" he asked.

There was nothing vicious about its appearance but Faust could not dismiss the eerie chill he felt when he met its eyes.

It didn't speak again. Instead, with a hoof, it pushed a small piece of metal over the barrier. Faust picked it up as it skidded to a stop by his shoes.

It was a small white ring. There was nothing engraved or embedded but an ominous shudder traveled through his body as the cold metal touched his palm.

"...Is this an engagement ring?" Faust asked eventually.

The giraffe jerked back as if disgusted and spoke again. It seemed to be annoyed that Faust couldn't understand.

"I will keep this," Faust decided. "I think I know what you want to say but until you've learned how to speak our language, I won't make any moves. That's the least you can do after killing three of our hunters."

It laughed condescendingly at his airy threat.

Faust wasn't afraid of the creature before him but he was afraid of the ring that was now in his pocket. A surge of power had washed over him and it was so frighteningly powerful that he'd almost accepted it out of human nature.

What stopped him was his confusion. That creature was barely a tenth of the power in the ring. Why would it have something so powerful in its possession and why did it give the ring to him instead of using it itself?

Faust didn't want to go against a schemer because he wasn't good at using his brain. He left the brawn to Nathaniel and the brain to Ms. Belyre. That was why he loved hunting, a brainless, brawn-less well-paying work that occasionally demanded he went out of his comfort zone to greet reporters.

But since the event with the creature five hours ago, the public had demanded a temporary halt on the opening of white gates until they've figured out a better safety precaution.

Leaving the creature's prison, Faust spent the next few hours watching Nathaniel fight until it was dusk. And then Nathaniel was invited to dinner with the instructors and a few higher-ups, presumably to go over what happened today.

The center's light began to dim when it was almost eight o'clock and by then only a few hunters remained. They were all instructors and by and by, the guild recruiters seated near Faust lost interest and began to leave as well, closing their notebooks and shaking hands with the other poachers.

Faust sat for a little longer, waiting patiently.

The sanitation worker entered a bit past nine when it was completely dark outside and there was only one hunter left on the floor, training his stamina and speed by dodging and racing against the simulations.

Faust watched as the man leaped into the air, his feet breaching the height where the walls began to slant into a dome, and dropping like an arrow onto the floor as the blue silhouette of a simulated creature shot flames at him.

"You're leaving later than usual," one of the workers said when the hunter finally shut off the simulator and wiped his face with a towel. The worker handed him a bottle of water.

"Sorry for delaying your schedule," the man said, smiling a bit awkwardly as he realized the time.

"Not at all." The worker smiled pleasantly. "Have a good night, Mr. Fernsby."

"Call me Collin."

The worker hurriedly shook his head. "I'm not a hunter."

Hunters greeted each other by their first name because it was a special accommodation as a hunter. Between a hunter and a civilian, however, there was still the formality of last names. That was why reporters would call Nathaniel 'Mr. Whitman' but most hunters, even ones they'd never met, would call him Mr. Nathaniel.

Faust found it a bit troublesome to balance respect and tradition so he resorted to not calling their names at all.

Collin was leaving the training center when he stopped at the door and turned around to look directly across the room at Faust. Faust knew his brother had spotted him long before but neither had said anything for the duration.

"Aren't you coming?" the man asked curtly. "If you wanted to talk to me, you could've just asked."

Would you have agreed? Faust thought wearily.

He shook his head and replied, "I'm waiting for something." Any other day Faust would've grabbed the opportunity to talk with his brother, but today, he had something to do.

The giraffe had been breathing down his neck for the past few hours as he waited patiently for Collin to finish. It'd finally relented and spoke to him in a language he knew. The creature wanted to show him the power of the ring and in exchange, he would help the giraffe retrieve something.

By now, Faust more or less knew what the ring could do.

"Nobody else can get in once the workers shut the gate," Collin reminded him. "Don't be stubborn. Come along."

"Collin, I'm glad to see you but I'm not here for you today."

"Then what are you here for?" Collin narrowed his eyes. However, before Faust could reply, his brother nodded and shrugged. "Fine. Do whatever you want."

The man closed the door behind him and left.

After waiting a few minutes, Faust took out the ring from his pocket and slid it on. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Tell me what to do."

𝘋𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘰𝘯, the giraffe scoffed.

Of all the words it could've learned, the creature seemed to have equipped itself with the more casual dialogues. Faust's eye twitched but he took off the ring and laid it on his palm.

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘦, the giraffe said. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥. 𝘕𝘰, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘺𝘦𝘵! 𝘎𝘰 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘶𝘱, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘰𝘯.

Faust snapped its finger and summoned the ring back to his palm. It was a light-type object, which worked more or less like a weapon he could summon at will.

"Can you please not pause at misleading spots when you speak?" Faust chided.

𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 ��𝘰𝘳𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘢 𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴. 𝘕𝘰𝘸, 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵.

Faust achieved it on the first try. As soon as the ring flew to the center, a large gate burst from the ring. White light spread from the center and drifted like smoke into oblivion at its edge. An oppressive feeling permeated the room but soon quieted down.

𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘰 𝘣𝘪𝘨? the giraffe questioned.

"You said to picture a gate. The first white gate I went through looked something like this."

𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘧𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘦?

Faust was a bit offended but he did agree with the giraffe's words. Perhaps it really was too big. The top of it was gently blowing white light at the high ceiling and the gate stood in the middle of the training center, blocking Faust's view of the doors behind.

Faust snapped his finger and the gate shrank in size.

𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘯𝘢𝘱 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴? 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘺.

"Snapping my fingers helps me end my thought," Faust replied. "And you speak a lot for a giraffe."

He leaped onto the floor of the training center and stood before the smaller gate that was just a bit taller than him.

"Where will this gate open to?" he asked, reaching a hand to gingerly touch the gate.

𝘛𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘷𝘦, 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦. 𝘐 𝘥���𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘹 𝘐 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦. 𝘍𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘹.

"Vulders?"

𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘴. 𝘈𝘴𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘰𝘹 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘵. 𝘝𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘥𝘨𝘦 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘲��𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘮, 𝘴𝘰 𝘐 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘥𝘶𝘮𝘣 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘺.

"What if I trade them your dead body?"

𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘸𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢. 𝘈𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴? 𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘰𝘹 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘴𝘢𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘺, 𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨.

Faust was interested. "What kind of something?"

𝘈 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴, the giraffe said proudly. 𝘕𝘰𝘸 𝘨𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘯�� 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘴.