Asher dreamed about paperwork.
Which felt unfair.
Not the boring kind, either—the kind that chased you down hallways and asked invasive questions about your deductible.
He woke up annoyed.
And hungry.
And painfully aware that his body had recovered again without asking permission.
He sat on the edge of the bed, feet on the floor, and waited for the ache to catch up.
It didn't.
"…I'm starting to feel gaslit by my own muscles," he muttered.
The system did not comment.
Which meant it was listening and choosing silence like a threat.
Asher dressed, ate something that technically qualified as breakfast, and stood there with his keys in hand while his phone sat on the counter like it might bite him.
The voicemail icon was still there.
The consultancy one.
Elias.
Talent placement.
Not a guild, but adjacent. The kind of organization that didn't swing swords themselves but knew who did—and how much they were worth.
Asher exhaled through his nose.
"I don't owe anyone a call," he said out loud.
The phone did not disagree.
Which, again, felt suspicious.
He left the apartment and locked the door behind him, heading down the stairs instead of risking the elevator. Old building. Questionable cables. He didn't trust confined spaces anymore.
Halfway down, the pressure returned.
Not the dungeon.
Not the system preparing a pop-up with bullet points and judgment.
This felt… observational.
He paused on the landing.
A small, private message appeared in the corner of his vision.
[Notice]
External monitoring probability increased.
Asher frowned. "You're being vague again."
[Clarification]
You are being noticed by non-hostile entities.
"That's not comforting."
[Clarification]
It is accurate.
He finished the stairs and stepped outside.
The street was louder today. A delivery truck idled at the curb. Someone argued into their phone. A pair of awakeners in light gear walked past, talking shop without lowering their voices.
"…if you're stacking stamina, you're wasting money…"
"…depends on role, man…"
Asher kept his head down and walked.
He made it three blocks before his phone rang.
Unknown number.
He stopped.
Stared.
Then sighed and answered.
"Hello?"
"Asher Black," a voice said, warm and practiced. "Elias. I'm glad you picked up."
Asher leaned against a lamppost. "You said no pressure."
"And I meant it," Elias replied smoothly. "This is just… timing."
"Of course it is."
A small chuckle. "I'll be brief. We specialize in matching newly awakened individuals with appropriate growth paths. Training resources. Legal guidance. Market access."
Asher closed his eyes. "I have a job."
"Everyone does at first," Elias said. "This wouldn't replace it. Think of us as… advisors."
"Advisors usually knock."
"We did," Elias replied. "You didn't answer."
Touché.
Asher shifted his weight, watching a bus pull up to a stop across the street. People got on. People got off. No one braced it. The world continued as designed.
"You said you were aware of my… involvement," Asher said carefully.
"Yes."
"How?"
"Public incidents leave ripples," Elias said. "Even when they're smoothed over. Especially then."
Asher's jaw tightened. "So you're saying someone noticed the smoothing."
A pause. Fractional.
"I'm saying," Elias replied, "that some people specialize in reading between lines."
The system stirred, faint but present.
Asher ignored it.
"I'm not interested in signing anything," he said.
"No contracts," Elias agreed immediately. "No obligations. Just a meeting. Coffee, if you like. Neutral ground."
Asher snorted. "I just had coffee. It escalated my life."
Another chuckle. "That does happen."
Silence stretched.
Asher thought about cores. About the market. About how close he already was to public systems whether he liked it or not.
"Send me details," he said at last. "I'm not promising anything."
"Of course," Elias said. "I'll text you a time and place. You can ignore it if you want."
"Generous."
"We pride ourselves on flexibility."
The call ended.
Asher stared at the phone for a moment longer, then slipped it into his pocket and resumed walking.
The system finally spoke.
[Notice]
External advisory contact logged.
Asher rolled his shoulders. "I didn't agree to anything."
[Clarification]
Acknowledged.
No binding action detected.
"Good."
He reached work without incident, which almost felt disappointing.
The day passed quietly. Maya watched him like she was cataloging inconsistencies, but didn't push.
When his shift ended, she walked with him again.
"You're quieter today," she said.
"I'm thinking."
"Dangerous hobby."
He smiled faintly. "I'll be careful."
They split at the corner, and Asher headed home under a sky that threatened rain but never committed.
When he reached his apartment, his phone buzzed.
A text.
ELIAS:
Tomorrow, 6 PM.
Corner café on Linden.
No pressure.
Asher stared at it.
Then another message arrived.
ELIAS:
Also—don't worry. We don't deal in systems.
Asher's blood cooled.
He didn't reply.
Inside, he dropped his keys on the counter and sat down hard on the couch.
"…That's not reassuring," he said.
The system's icon hovered, quiet.
"You hear that?" Asher asked. "They don't deal in you."
The system waited a beat before responding.
[Clarification]
That does not preclude interest.
Asher rubbed his face with both hands.
"So I'm interesting now."
[Clarification]
You have been interesting.
Visibility has increased.
He leaned back and stared at the ceiling.
This was the cost of surviving publicly.
Not monsters.
Not dungeons.
People who wanted to help.
People who wanted to manage.
People who smiled while asking what you were worth.
The dungeon tugged at him again—soft, familiar.
Asher considered it.
Then shook his head.
"Not tonight," he said. "I need to think like a person."
The pull receded.
He lay there in silence, phone face-down on his chest, and wondered which was worse—
Being hunted.
Or being recruited.
Power didn't just attract danger.
It attracted interest.
And interest never stayed polite for long.