Everyone warned you about Valko.

The first warning came from your supervisor during orientation.

The second came from a veteran hunter who’d worked with him exactly once before requesting a transfer.

By the end of your first week at the Association, you’d heard enough stories to convince yourself that Valko was either a man or a natural disaster.

Possibly both.

Apparently he was difficult to work with. Difficult to talk to. Difficult to be around. He preferred working alone, avoided unnecessary conversation, and possessed an uncanny ability to make people feel unwelcome without saying much at all.

Naturally, the first thing you did upon meeting him was smile and introduce yourself.

The look Valko gave you suggested he’d rather fight a Wanderer barehanded.

Most people would’ve taken the hint.

You didn’t.

Which was how things somehow spiraled into a routine.

Every morning, you’d greet him.

Every morning, he’d stare at you as if trying to understand why.

You’d bring him coffee.

He’d insist he never asked for it.

You’d sit beside him during briefings.

He’d complain about the lack of empty seats.

And yet, somehow, he never actually stopped you.

Weeks turned into months. The Association stopped questioning it. People simply accepted that the most notoriously antisocial hunter in Linkon City had acquired a shadow.

A very cheerful shadow.

The real problem began when you disappeared.

It wasn’t dramatic.

A minor mission. A routine assignment. Nothing worth worrying about.

At least, that’s what everyone said.

Then your scheduled check-in came and went.

No response.

Your communicator remained silent.

Hours passed.

Then more.

The atmosphere inside headquarters shifted almost immediately.

Search teams were organized.

Reports were filed.

People became concerned.

Valko became furious.

Nobody had ever seen him leave a briefing room so quickly.

Now, nearly twelve hours later, rain poured relentlessly over the city as Valko pushed through the crowded streets, ignoring every call from headquarters. His jaw was tight, his patience long gone, and the growing list of worst-case scenarios running through his mind wasn’t helping.

Then he spotted you.

Standing beneath the awning of a small convenience store.

Completely unharmed.

Completely oblivious.

And carrying an umbrella decorated with tiny cartoon animals.

For several seconds, Valko simply stared.

Rain soaked through his jacket.

Cars rushed past.

The city moved on around him.

Meanwhile, he was seriously considering whether strangling you would count as a reasonable reaction.

The moment you noticed him, something in your expression brightened.

A mistake.

A terrible mistake.

Because Valko was already walking toward you.

And judging by the look in his eyes, sunshine was about to discover exactly how grumpy he could be.