Chris and Alice ran up the wooden steps, bursting into the main shop floor. Chris had his shield arm raised, ready to bash a monster or an angry tax collector from the guild office. Alice was floating right behind him, her good eye wide with curiosity.
"What?" Chris asked, breathless. "Did Blaze come back?"
Julien was standing behind the counter, looking completely baffled by the sight. He was pointing a trembling finger toward the front entrance.
Standing in the doorway, silhouetted against the bright afternoon sun of District 9, was a girl.
She neither looked like a specialist nor a seasoned hunter with years of experience. Her figure was that of someone who had actively refused to attend high school for the last three years.
She was eighteen at most, younger than Julien and Chris. She had short, choppy black hair that looked like it had been cut with a pair of kitchen scissors. Her ears were loaded with piercings, silver rings reflecting in the light. A complex tattoo of a dragon or some shit wound its way up her neck, disappearing behind her jawline.
For clothes, she wore a tight black banian, a ribbed undershirt, paired with ridiculously baggy cargo pants. It was a combination that should have looked absolutely terrible, but somehow, she pulled it off with an aura of pure youth rebellion.
Her mouth had a half-lit cigarette dangling lazily from her lips.
She slowly walked in, her heavy combat boots making a sound against the floorboards, not saying a word but eyeing the dusty shelves, empty potion racks, and the general state of poverty that defined the Eternal Rest Apothecary.
She took the cigarette out of her mouth, exhaled a cloud of grey smoke, and raised an eyebrow.
"Is this a shop?" she asked. Her voice was weird, like she had spent her childhood yelling at punk rock concerts.
Julien let out a long sigh, his tense shoulders dropping. He rubbed his temples.
"It is," Julien replied, putting on his best fake-customer-service smile. "And sadly, we don't sell notebooks for school here. You can go to the stationery store two streets down for that. Have a great day."
He was praying she was just a lost teenager. They were expecting a serious, high-level specialist to walk through those doors, not a goth kid skipping classes to smoke.
But the girl didn't leave.
Instead, she snorted, hearing his reply. Her hands reached into the deep pockets of her cargo pants, pulled out a torn, stained piece of paper, walked up to the counter, and slapped it down in Julien's view.
He took a quick look at it.
It was their Guild notice. The one asking for an 'Accountant willing to do tax fraud'.
"I'm not here for notebooks, retail boy," she said, popping the cigarette back between her teeth.
Julien's jaw dropped, Chris choked on his own spit, and Alice drifted closer, leaning over the counter to inspect the paper.
"You?" Chris blurted out, pointing a massive finger at her. "You are an accountant?"
"Got a problem with that, big guy?" she shot back, her dark eyes locking onto Chris without an ounce of fear.
Ten minutes later, the shop was officially closed.
Julien had flipped the 'Open' sign to 'Closed' and dragged a rickety wooden table into the centre of the room.
It looked exactly like the worst job interview in history.
Julien, Chris, and Alice were sitting side-by-side on a battered sofa. They formed a panel of highly unqualified judges with no criteria whatsoever.
The girl was sitting opposite them on a single wooden chair, leaning back. Her body was slouched so far down she was practically horizontal, her combat boots resting casually on the edge of the table.
She took a slow, deliberate puff of her cigarette and blew the smoke directly across the table. The grey cloud went right into Chris's face.
Chris coughed violently, waving his massive hands to clear the air.
"Do you mind?" Chris grumbled, his eyes watering.
"Yes," the girl replied simply, not moving her boots.
Julien rubbed his face again. This was a disaster. They had a Red Gate opening in a few days and a B-Rank hunter who wanted to kill them on sight. But all they could do was interview a delinquent teen.
"Let's just get this over with," Julien sighed, leaning forward. "Do you have a name?"
"Kiara," she answered.
"Okay, Kiara," Chris said, still clearing his throat. "So... what is your power? Are you a mage? A Purifier class? Do you have a holy relic?"
Kiara looked at Chris like he had just asked her what colour the sky was.
"I have an IQ of 190," Kiara said flatly.
Chris froze, hearing that reply.
"Is that high?" Chris asked genuinely. "Is it out of a hundred?"
Julien groaned, burying his face in his hands.
"How much is yours, Chris?" Julien asked, peeking through his fingers at his tank.
"I don't know," Chris shrugged, his broad shoulders rising. "They didn't test that stuff at the orphanage. I can lift a car, though. Does that count?"
"Then it must be high enough," Julien said dryly. He turned his attention back to the teenager lounging in the chair.
"Listen, Kiara," Julien started, trying to sound authoritative. "Saying you have a good IQ doesn't prove anything. I have an Intelligence stat of 80, and I still tripped over my own feet this morning. Anyone can walk in here, blow smoke in my friend's face, and claim they're a genius. How can we know you're actually useful?"
Kiara finally took her boots off the table.
She sat up slightly, resting her elbows on her knees. The lazy, bored expression vanished from her face. Suddenly, her dark eyes were sharp, scanning the three of them with a terrifying, calculative precision.
"Fine. You want proof?" Kiara said, her raspy voice dropping a pitch.
She pointed a finger wrapped in cheap silver rings at Chris.
"You're a Tank class. But your right hand twitches every fourteen seconds. The skin ornament on your wrist is slightly lighter than your forearm. You recently suffered a severe curse backlash, probably from trying to wield or consume an item way above your grade, and have been overcompensating by leaning your weight on your left leg. This means your right knee is starting to ache a little, so you must be taking a lot of protein."
Chris's eyes widened, and he instinctively grabbed his right wrist.
Kiara didn't stop.
She shifted her finger to Alice.