"You know," the young man said conversationally, his smile widening slightly, "for a guy who killed a Calamity lord, you have terrible situational awareness."

Hide didn’t flinch. The cold, razor-sharp edge of the combat knife pressed precisely against his carotid artery, but the hand holding it was completely steady.

There was no erratic tremor of a rookie, nor the wild bloodlust of a killer. It was perfect grip of a seasoned professional.

Hide let his eyes shift toward the man. "Are you going to actually cut, or did you just want a hug?"

Rol’s lazy smile faded into a hard, disciplined line.

Behind his calm facade, Rol’s innate talent flared to life. His grey eyes emitted a faint, ghostly glow as he peered past Hide’s physical form and directly into his mana structure. What he saw made his breath hitch.

’It’s exactly the same,’ Rol thought, a cold sweat breaking out on his back. ’I thought Maddox was exaggerating, but it’s really him.’

Through his talent, Rol saw that Hide’s mana core was a swirling, violently compressed vortex of dark, corrupted energy—the exact same suffocating, aura Rol had witnessed radiating from the Crowned Beast in that three-star spot dungeon. It was a miracle the boy’s human flesh hadn’t ruptured from holding it.

"It really is you," Rol breathed, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous rasp. "Maddox wasn’t lying. Where is it? Where is that black armor you wore when you slaughtered that Calamity Lord?"

Hide’s mind raced, quickly connecting the dots. The spot dungeon. This guy had been one of them.

Instead of denying it, Hide let out a dry, mocking scoff.

"Armor?" Hide asked, his voice dripping with deadpan condescension. "You ambushed me on a street just to ask about my wardrobe? You must be the guy from the spot dungeon. The one who was too busy struggling with a bunch of low-level bone-rattlers to actually do anything useful."

Rol’s jaw locked. The memory of Shigo’s death flashed behind his eyes, raw and bloody. He pressed the blade just a millimeter deeper, drawing a single, microscopic bead of blood.

"Watch your mouth, kid," Rol warned, his voice tight with suppressed grief. "One of my teammates died there."

"And whose fault was that?" Hide shot back, his eyes narrowing as he leaned into the blade just enough to test Rol’s composure. "If you were half as good at fighting beasts as you are at holding knives to teenagers’ throats, maybe your teammate wouldn’t have died. Or are you just looking for someone to blame because you were too weak to save him?"

It was the perfect rage-bait.

Rol’s grey eyes flared as he felt a sudden, blinding surge of fury snap his restraint. "You little piece of—"

Before Rol could shift his weight, a third presence materialized directly above them without a single ripple.

"Okay, break it up, boys!" a cheerful voice chirped.

Rol’s combat instincts screamed, but he didn’t even have time to look up.

A figure dropped from the top of the wrought-iron gate. Two combat boots planted themselves squarely onto Rol’s shoulders, using his own center of gravity against him. The leverage was flawless. Rol’s knees buckled under the sudden, concentrated weight, and he was forced face-first into the polished cobblestones.

Standing triumphantly on the back of the highly trained Major was a girl.

She had bright red hair tied loosely back, oversized round glasses, and an aggressively easy-going smile. She was wearing an oversized sweater and looked like a college student who had taken a wrong turn, yet she had completely neutralized a B-Rank veteran in a fraction of a second.

"Jeez, Rol, you really lack patience," the girl sighed, adjusting her glasses with one finger while keeping her boot pressed into his spine to stop him from moving. "Captain Claire specifically said not to start a blood feud on the front lawn."

She turned to Hide, offering a bright, sunny wave. "Hi! I’m Elara. Don’t mind him, he’s just going through a grumpy phase."

Hide stared at the girl standing on the groaning Exterminator, his expression perfectly flat. "...Right."

Suddenly, the heavy iron gates of the villa let out a low mechanical hum and swung open.

Standing in the doorway of the mansion was Claire.

She wasn’t wearing her usual tactical suit. Instead, she wore a sharp, immaculately tailored grey blazer over a black turtleneck.

Her piercing red eyes swept over the scene—Hide standing there with a drop of blood on his neck, Rol face-planted into the pavement, and Elara happily using him as a stepping stool.

Claire was utterly silent.

The wind blew gently through the perfectly manicured garden. A single, dry brown leaf drifted lazily across the tense silence between them, making a loud, comical skrrk, skrrk sound as it scraped across the cobblestones.

Somewhere down the street, an automated taxi beeped its horn. A group of civilians walking their dogs had stopped dead on the sidewalk, their eyes wide. One of them was actively recording the scene on their communicator.

Claire closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Get inside," Claire said, her voice a low, terrifying rumble that promised violence. "All of you. Right now."

Elara cheerfully hopped off Rol’s back. Rol groaned, picking himself up and brushing the dirt off his combat suit. He shot Hide one last, complicated glare—a mix of lingering anger and begrudging realization that the kid had intentionally played him—before storming past into the estate.

Hide simply sighed, slipping his hands into his pockets and following them inside.

"I leave you alone for fucking five minutes," Claire grumbled, locking the heavy gates behind them and leading them up the marble steps. "I gave you one job, Rol. To screen the perimeter. Not cause a public incident like an asshole."

"He has a very punchable personality," Rol muttered, rubbing his jaw.

"I literally just stood there," Hide countered flatly.

Claire shot them both a glare that shut them up instantly.

Hide ignored the bickering, his attention drawn entirely to the interior of the mansion. It was absurdly lavish. The ceilings were vaulted and painted with intricate murals, the floors were polished marble, and expensive, high-grade magical artifacts were mounted on the walls purely as decoration. It looked less like a temporary residence and more like the ancestral home of a billionaire.

Claire led them down a wide corridor and into a massive dining room. In the center sat a long, heavy oak table surrounded by six high-backed chairs.

Placed perfectly in front of every chair was a thick, golden envelope.

"Sit," Claire ordered.

Hide took a seat near the end. Rol sat opposite him, his posture stiff and professional once again. Elara bounced into a chair next to Rol, spinning slightly in her seat.

Two other individuals—a tall, quiet man, and a woman typing frantically on a holographic tablet, were already seated, though they offered no introductions.

Hide looked down at the golden envelope in front of him. It bore the official crest of the National Exterminator Agency. He had seen an envelope exactly like this one before, in Maddox’s office.

He looked around the table. Everyone here, aside from him, was clearly a seasoned, high-ranking Exterminator affiliated with the NEA.

Claire remained standing at the head of the table. She placed her hands flat on the oak surface, her gaze sweeping over her assembled misfits.

"Alright," Claire said, her voice taking on a sharp, commanding edge. "Everyone is here. Let’s begin the first official meeting of the ’Get to Top 10’ team."

Rol immediately groaned, covering his face with his hand. "What in the fucking hell is that name?"

"I think it’s super cute!" Elara chimed in, raising her hand.

"I can bet 100 million it was Commander Maddox," the woman with the tablet muttered without looking up from her screen.

Hide sat in complete confusion. He looked at the golden envelope, then at Claire, then back to the envelope.

"What the hell is going on?" Hide asked, his voice cutting cleanly through the chatter. He looked directly at Claire. "Someone tell me what I’m doing here? N, What the fuck are you doing here? Aren’t you a captain in the Geo Ford Extermination agency?"

The table went quiet. Rol looked at him, Elara tilted her head in curiosity, and the others paused.

Claire smiled.

"Let’s start with introductions first, Hide," Claire said smoothly, straightening her blazer. "So, I shall commence."

Her piercing red eyes locked onto his, carrying the weight of a title Hide had entirely underestimated.

"I am Claire V. Bronn," she announced, her voice ringing with absolute authority in the large room. "A Major, and one of the 14 Special Investigators of the National Exterminator Agency."