The Super Hunters Summer Convention is not what Nero would call a comfortable environment.

Twelve thousand attendees. Noise levels that should require a permit. Children in foam Hunter Frost helmets running at speeds that violate several unwritten social contracts.

He had a plan. Get in, acquire the limited-edition Hunter Lux Series 4 card before the collector's booth sells out, find a quiet wall to stand against, and wait until the crowd thins enough to reach the exit without physical contact.

The card is already sleeved. In his inner jacket pocket. Against his chest, essentially.

He is now standing near the vintage merchandise display in the quietest corner of hall B, dressed like he came from a board meeting, watching a promotional reel of Hunter Lux's special episode play on a screen across the aisle. His arms are crossed. His expression is unreadable.

He has watched it four times.

He has not moved in forty minutes.

His phone buzzes. He silences it without looking at it.

Around him, the crowd surges and laughs and poses for photos. Someone nearby drops an entire tray of limited-edition keychains. A child screams — excitement, not distress. He exhales slowly through his nose.

He adjusts his glasses and pulls out his phone, opening a Wanderer classification document.

If he has to be here, he can at least be productive.