Chapter 12. The three districts of the Silverdale shelter.

Ethan was acutely aware that Hyejin had not swindled him. Where other hunters might have exploited his status as an unawakened, seizing credit for his kill, Hyejin had shown no inclination to do so.

His knowledge as a hunter in a former life had given him a keen sense of the value of loot, and by his estimation, the yield from a single corrupted level three-eyed wolf was indeed around a hundred points. This insight confirmed that Hyejin had dealt with him fairly.

Upon hearing Ethan's words, Hyejin maintained a stoic and detached demeanor, her gaze methodically sweeping over Ethan's battered form.

"Wait for me here," she commanded curtly, spinning on her heel to enter the hunters' guild building. She left Ethan, bewildered and alone, without any semblance of an explanation.

Confusion gnawed at Ethan as he pondered her instructions. 'Why would she ask me to wait here, outside?' Despite his concern, he sensed her intentions were not ill-founded, so he opted to remain there, trusting her for the time being.

As he waited, Ethan couldn't resist surveying the extent of his dishevelment.

He looked more akin to a wild man than a regular human, his clothes ripped in various places. The earlier conflagration had singed a gaping hole through his already threadbare shirt, revealing a ghastly tableau of burns, blisters, and raw skin beneath.

His left foot had ballooned in size, and although the rough handling had managed to correct his dislocated ankle, the surrounding flesh was grotesquely swollen.

'How on earth will I conceal these monstrous injuries from Ava?' he ruminated. The thought of his sister's horror upon seeing his battered state was almost as painful as the injuries themselves.

"Here, take this—it will aid in your recovery," Hyejin's icy voice shattered his reverie. Ethan was startled, having not noticed her return from the guild building.

He blinked, momentarily lost. "What? Did you say something?" he stammered, realizing he had missed her initial remark.

His attention was then drawn to the small glass vial she held out to him, the red liquid within signaling its purpose.

"Apply this to your wounds. It will accelerate the healing," she instructed, her tone as detached as ever.

'This is exactly what I need,' Ethan thought, elation bubbling within him as he eyed the vial in Hyejin's hand. He had no intention of declining such a valuable gift.

Gratefully, he accepted the vial, his smile conveying deep appreciation. "Thanks," he murmured.

Hyejin's expression remained unreadable, offering only a terse nod in response before she turned and made her way back to the guild's entrance to rejoin the others.

Ethan's gaze lingered on the vial in his hand, a broad smile lighting up his face. The aroma wafting from the potion hinted at a quality much superior to what a novice like him could typically acquire. The healing potions available to him were of such inferior grade they did little for serious wounds.

The potion in his grasp held the promise of a swift recovery, and for that, he was immensely grateful.

Though Ethan had access to a low-quality healing potion in the hunter guild building, he knew it would be a slow remedy, requiring days and numerous applications to take effect. Time and resources were luxuries he couldn't afford to squander.

Having no further reason to linger, Ethan shifted his focus toward making his way home, situated in the third district of the Silverdale Shelter.

The Silverdale shelter was segmented into three distinct areas, each serving as a stark testament to the varied economic statuses and ways of life of its inhabitants.

The elite made their residence in the first district. A bastion for the prestigious and powerful awakened families, this district boasted opulent amenities and an elevated standard of living. Its residents enjoyed privileges such as exclusive access to rare resources, luxurious living spaces, and a suite of personalized services. The cost of such extravagances was high, mirroring the district's elevated living expenses.

Inhabitants of the first district were the shelter's decision-makers, wielding considerable influence over its political and social landscape. Security was paramount here, with private measures in place to protect the well-to-do from the constant threats that loomed outside the shelter's walls. During assaults by demonic beasts and other external forces, the first district's robust defenses made it the safest refuge during moments of crisis.

The middle class found their place in the second district, where seasoned hunters and awakened citizens resided. These were the individuals, like the hunting party Ethan had joined earlier, who earned their living through the perilous but profitable vocation of hunting.

While lacking the opulence of the first district, the second still offered its share of comforts, albeit to a lesser degree. In comparison, the amenities were modest, but residents here experienced a quality of life far exceeding that of the third district.

The third district, however, was the shelter's underbelly, often referred to disparagingly as the slums. Here, the inhabitants weren't seen as humans but rather likened to vermin. The living conditions were dire, with crumbling, overcrowded dwellings, scarce resources, and an overall absence of infrastructure.

The authorities had turned a blind eye to the third district, neglecting its needs and allowing the blight of poverty, crime, and unrest to fester unchecked. This neglect bred an environment rife with danger, where crime and violence were rampant and death an all-too-frequent visitor.

Seeing a corpse on the street was not an uncommon sight in the third district, and more often than not, these tragedies were met with indifference. Neither the residents nor the authorities bothered to investigate the causes of these untimely deaths, contributing to the cycle of disregard and despair that plagued the district.

It was within this grim backdrop that Ethan and his sister carved out their existence.

Soon enough, Ethan reached the heart of the third district. The sight of dilapidated buildings met his eyes, while malnourished children and weathered elders ambled through the streets, their clothes hanging off their frames in tatters. The air was thick with the stench of urine and excrement, an assault on the senses that Ethan had grown all too familiar with.

He sighed heavily, the weight of his environment bearing down on him. 'I can't endure this much longer. A change—I need a change to a better environment, and fast,' Ethan muttered under his breath, his eyes scanning the desolate surroundings that had become his harsh reality.