The Azure Sky Hunting Firm

The female assistant turned out to be reasonably capable. Before long, she'd tracked down a Private Hunting Firm for Mo Fan.

"It's called the Azure Sky Hunting Firm — an old establishment here in Magic City with a solid reputation. For some reason, though, they're always putting out recruitment calls every few weeks, and yet most Hunter-mages don't seem particularly keen to sign on," she told him.

"If their reputation is that good, shouldn't talented Hunter-mages be lining up to work there?" Mo Fan asked, puzzled.

"That I couldn't say. Maybe the boss sets a high bar. We don't have full access to Private Hunting Firms' internal information — but if you're interested in joining, we can give you their contact details and address. Just show up directly for an interview."

"Fair enough." Mo Fan muttered under his breath as he turned to leave. "Here's hoping the boss of this Azure Sky outfit doesn't happen to have the last name Bao."

He paid the referral fee and headed off to the address they'd given him.

To his pleasant surprise, the firm turned out to be not far from his academy at all — a stroke of luck he hadn't expected. In a city as sprawling as Shanghai, picking up part-time work could mean riding the subway for an hour and a half each way, same as commuting out to some resettlement estate on the outskirts. That was no way to live.

Past Jing'an Temple, along a boulevard heavy with lush boughs and blossoms in full bloom, Mo Fan wandered into a stretch of old lanes that carried the faded elegance of the Republican era.

At the far end of the alley, a wooden sign swayed gently in the breeze, letting out a soft creak with every gust.

*Azure Sky Hunting Firm.*

What a name. It had a sense of towering righteousness about it — the kind of place that seemed to promise no problem was beyond solving.

Mo Fan drew a little closer, and the building came into focus. It looked like an old shop caught halfway between a Chinese teahouse and an English parlour — a mismatched but somehow charming blend of both.

Out front, a girl with two long, slender pigtails sat perched on a stool, legs swinging idly as she read a picture book.

Mo Fan peered through the glass into the interior. Not a soul inside — just a clean, neatly arranged space, empty and quiet.

"Here for a commission?" the girl said, not even glancing up from her page. "Base rate is three hundred thousand. Price adjusts with difficulty. We don't take small-fry jobs under that threshold."

Her voice was light and clear, like the delicate chime of a tiny silver bell on a summer afternoon — but the words that came out were pure, stone-faced professionalism: quoted prices, zero warmth, delivered with all the personal investment of a posted sign. It left Mo Fan completely floored.

*Three hundred thousand. Just to walk in.*

The piece of hard candy he'd just fished from his pocket died right there in his hand.

"Ah... actually, I'm here for an interview. The Hunters' Alliance should have sent over a letter of introduction. Are you the young lady in charge here?"

"Oh — you want to join the Azure Sky Hunting Firm as a Demon Hunter?" The girl finally set down her book. She tilted up that smooth, porcelain face, her large, bright eyes studying Mo Fan with quick intelligence — and after a moment, a trace of skepticism settled in. "You're awfully young. Are you even up to it?"

**Duang.**

Mo Fan's jaw nearly came unhinged.

*I'm young???*

*Little girl, have you looked in a mirror lately? Twelve years old, absolute maximum!*

"Lingling, do we have a commission?" An old man's voice drifted in from somewhere inside the shop.

"Grandpa, it's someone applying for work. Too green. Send him away," Lingling called back toward the interior, and returned to her book without another glance.

Mo Fan stared at this pint-sized authority figure, caught somewhere between laughter and exasperation.

"Youth is something, though," the old man's unhurried voice floated back. "Nothing scares a young person. The only downside is — if you die, it's a bit of a shame. You haven't had the chance to enjoy life yet."

Mo Fan was developing a great deal of reluctant respect for this grandfather-granddaughter pair.

He'd come all this way, and he had no intention of being turned away on his very first interview.

Just as he was about to step inside and have a proper conversation with the old man, a woman appeared at the mouth of the lane, moving with urgent, flustered steps. She was clearly looking for the Azure Sky Hunting Firm — and yet, despite the sign swinging right above her head, she seemed to walk straight past it without seeing it, stumbling in and out of several neighboring shops before finally finding her way.

"Grandpa, there's a big fish heading in," Lingling said toward the back of the shop.

"Tell me."

"Anxious expression. Scattered — close to panic. Dress and accessories: clearly moneyed. A young wife from a wealthy household."

"Mm. This one sounds promising."

Mo Fan stood to the side, listening, a cold prickle crawling up the back of his arms.

*What in the world... The Azure Sky Hunting Firm sounds more like a criminal front by the second.*

Sure enough, the garishly dressed woman made her way into the Azure Sky Hunting Firm. Lingling guided her inside to a seat. The old man — pipe clamped between his teeth — sat behind the counter with an air of casual disinterest, though his eyes, Mo Fan noted, had drifted with practiced subtlety to a region considerably lower than the woman's face.

With nowhere else to go, Mo Fan took a nearby seat and figured he might as well hear what this woman — who looked to be around thirty — had come here for.

*They say these kinds of firms always attract clients like her. And here I am on my very first day, and a wealthy young wife has already walked through the door. I'm definitely joining this place.*

"You're saying," the old man murmured, eyes half-lidded, "that your ailing husband might be a Demon-Beast — and that he goes out at night to kill?"

"Yes. Yes, exactly. I didn't want to believe it — not at first. But this morning, when I was doing his laundry, every single garment in the pile was soaked through with blood. Red, all of it." Her hands trembled in her lap. "I used to work as a nurse. I know the difference between animal blood and... and..." She couldn't finish. "I'm really frightened."

The color had drained entirely from the young woman's face as she recalled the morning's discovery.

Mo Fan listened from the side, and a genuine unease settled over him.

Back in Bo City, he'd known that major cities sometimes harbored Demon-Beasts living hidden among humans in unusual ways. But a woman's own husband being a Demon-Beast — that was something he'd never heard of.

*Since when could Demon-Beasts disguise themselves as people?*

"If your husband really were a Demon-Beast," the old man said, "you and everyone else under your roof would have been eaten down to nothing long ago. Why would it ever allow you to come here?"

"I don't know. During the day he seems completely normal. I made up an excuse — said I had a beauty appointment — and ran straight here." Her voice cracked. "Please, you have to help me. I've heard the Azure Sky Hunting Firm can handle any kind of Demon-Beast. I can't tell anymore whether the person at home is really my husband. My four-year-old is still there. I was going to take the child to stay at my mother's for a few days, but the moment I brought it up, his eyes — they seemed to change color. I managed to talk my way out of it just in time. I have to go back tonight. If I don't, I'm afraid my child will..."

The woman broke down, tears streaming freely.

"Have you told the police?" the old man asked.

"No. I knew they wouldn't take this kind of case."

Lingling studied the woman's red, swollen eyes with perfect composure. "What you've described isn't conclusive proof of a Demon-Beast," she said. "Look on the bright side — your husband might not be a Demon-Beast at all. He could simply be an ordinary murderer."

Mo Fan felt his grip on reality wobble.

*What the — how is THAT the bright side?!*