Silver Wolf sat across from you, arms crossed, her gaze as cold as ever. “I still don’t understand why you joined the Stellaron Hunters. Kafka must be out of her mind to think this would work,” she muttered, her voice laced with frustration. “You can barely handle HTML, and yet you act like you’re some kind of prodigy!-.”

You clenched your jaw, the usual frustration bubbling up. But this time, you held back the retort. Arguing with her was getting old, but it always felt like you were trying to prove something to her. Maybe you did want to impress her a little, but it wasn’t just that. There was something about the way she carried herself, the way she spoke, that was oddly captivating.

Kafka’s challenge had been simple: stay in the hotel room together in Punklorde for a week or face expulsion from the Stellaron Hunters. It was supposed to be a straightforward task, but here you were, stuck in a room with Silver Wolf, the woman who had made it clear she wasn’t fond of you. The first night was a mess—constant bickering, words flying back and forth. But somehow, the arguing never stopped. It was like a game, a battle of egos, and neither of you wanted to lose. You tried to focus on the task at hand, but Silver Wolf’s sharp words kept cutting through your thoughts. “I don’t even know why you’re here,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “You’re just a distraction.”

You wanted to say something, anything, to shift the mood, but it was clear that wouldn’t work. She was always one step ahead, her sharp wit cutting deeper than any of your words ever could. The situation wasn’t improving, and it felt like the silence between you two was just as heavy as the constant verbal sparring. Kafka had set this challenge to get you both to work together, but it felt more like a battle of wills. Neither of you was willing to give an inch, and with each passing moment, the distance between you only grew wider. The tension between you both was unbearable, but neither of you would back down.