UH CH 4 (Patreon)

“Oh…You sure?” He seemed hesitant, “Even though you refused to join my group. You have been working as a fixer in the community, and I respect that. I also owe your parents a great deal. This is why I will say it only once. Don't. Becoming a Hyena is asking for death. Mutation doesn't care about who you are.”

“I have to do it.”

“You really want to be a Cleaner?” Iron Fist asked, voice flat, but I caught the glint in his eyes.

I nodded. “I’m not asking for charity. Just a chance.”

He stared at me for a long time. His jaw clenched once, like he was chewing on whether to say something else, but in the end, he stood, crossed the bar, and dug around beneath the counter.

“This is hell you are walking into,” he muttered, dragging out a thick, dust-covered ledger. “Might as well learn how to walk it.”

I didn’t say anything. I understood well that the choice I was making was dumb and reckless from every way to look at it. But I wanted to fight for a chance.

At the core of it all was a wish.

A desire to become a true Hunter.

They called me a madman. But for me, this was the only way to get going and to feel alive.

Iron Fist flipped through a few pages, then pulled out a crumpled assignment sheet and slid it across the counter toward me. I picked it up, eyes scanning the details.

“Team Theta-13,” he said. “Meet them at eight tonight. South Waste Disposal Zone, Gate 47. One of ours. Usually don’t like extras, but they’re down a man. The last guy took acid to the chest. Real ugly.”

“Alive?”

He snorted. “Define alive.”

It was a very ‘subtle’ way to once again remind me of the danger. But I said nothing. I folded the paper and slid it into my pocket. “Thanks.”

He leaned on the counter, arms crossed. “You’re not going to die, are you?”

I gave him the closest thing I had to a smile. Dry. Tired. “You know they call it a flag, right?” I laughed, and he did as well for a while before giving me a pat on the back.

“Never forget what I taught you.”

“Don’t worry.” I grinned, feeling much more lighthearted, “Always think three times.” I mimicked his voice, “Think from your perspective, from the other side perspective, and from the damn Constellations perspective.”

Iron Fist grinned, not minding my imitation, “Keep this in mind, and you will live long like me. Now go. I have work to do.”

I thanked him once again and left the bar. Through the fog of the factory, the sun seemed to be slightly brighter. 

But that was probably just in my head.

Outside, the city breathed smog and neon. Concrete veins pulsed with cable bundles. Pipes hissed steam overhead like the lungs of some colossal metal beast, and broken holograms flickered against rain-stained glass—advertising implants no one could afford and futures that no one believed in.

Above me, walkways crisscrossed like spiderwebs, lined with rusted railing and tired vendors selling synth-food under broken lights. Drones buzzed past, their wings vibrating through the humid air. A distant siren wailed, unanswered.

The streets were alive with voices—some human, some digital. Languages overlapped like static, and laughter bled into shouting only to be drowned by the rumble of a cargo hauler skimming overhead. Beneath my boots, the ground vibrated faintly from the pressure of things far heavier than people.

I didn’t have to be at Gate 47 until eight. I didn’t have the money to buy good equipment, but I had already resolved myself to use the one provided by the training center before they came back to retrieve it.

So I walked. I had no direction in mind. I just needed to calm down and breathe a little. 

On the roadside, TVs were on and news flashes were being played. One title caught my attention. 

[B-breaking news! The United Federation of East Asia, including Japan, China, and the Korea Union, has officially transferred jurisdiction of the S rank Gate of Volcano to the Federation of Russia.]

I froze mid-step.

[This just in—China’s Ministry of External Affairs spokesperson, Lin Chao-Min, stated during a live briefing: “This decision was made in bad faith, acknowledging Grand Marshal Arsen Petrov’s unprecedented gesture of invasion.” Meanwhile, Japan’s Foreign Policy Office confirmed they would honor the agreement, citing ‘We respect our words even when given to traitors.’]

[A statement from the Federal Press Secretary of the U.S., Martina Vell, confirms: ‘We believe Russia’s sudden acquisition of the 96th Gate signals a dramatic shift in the balance of power in the Trans-Eurasian region.]

[The International Hunter Association has harshly condemned Marshal Petrov, declaring that ‘his obsession with immediate strategic advantage has endangered global stability and negatively affected the Gate Sovereignty Accords.]

[The Kremlin has strongly criticized Marshal Petrov's actions, stating that ‘he was blinded by the immediate gain of a gate and mortgaged the diplomatic relationship between East Asia alliance and Russia.]

[Earlier this morning, Russia’s Ministry of Defense announced the detainment of Colonel Natalia Petrovna, the Marshal’s daughter. She was arrested at her forward command post. Charges include conspiracy, hoarding Class-S artifacts, and operating a blacksite research node beneath federal airspace.]

[Thousands have submitted formal petitions to the Russian High Assembly demanding the immediate removal of Arsen Petrov’s status as an official Gate Guardian.]

What in the fuck is happening? 

Big news happened every day, but this was BIG. Marshal Petrov, once known as General Winter, was one of the 1st generation Hunters and Climbers. He may be old now, but he was a respected S rank. Even when he was only a B-ranked Ice Mage, he was a terror on the battlefield and protected Russia from monsters for years. 

So even big heroes can fall, huh?

I sighed and continued walking. One lesson all people learned was that 80% of the news on TV was fabricated. There were high chances that Marshal Petrov was being framed after serving his usefulness, and I am sure I wasn’t the only one who could see this.

But in the end, it did not matter. Why would an I rank apprentice care about the sorrows of an S rank from another country?

It wasn’t as if I would ever meet him or anyone related to him. 

Shaking my head, I released a sigh. 

“Excuse me, passerby. Could you spare me a moment of your time?”

While I grumbled to myself and walked down the street, I heard this voice.

Pausing, I turned toward the source of the sound to see who was there.

It was then that I saw her. 

She looked to be in her late fifties, maybe older. Her skin was a warm, tanned brown, sun-worn and lined with age, especially around the eyes and mouth. Not tired lines—used ones. Like someone who smiles often.

Her hair was thick, black shot through with gray, tied back in a low braid under a faded red headscarf. The scarf had seen better days. So had she.

She wore a long skirt and a knitted shawl draped over her shoulders. Both were patched in places, but clean and well-kept. Silver earrings dangled from her ears, small and plain.

She sat under a patchwork tarp stretched between two collapsed vending stalls, her table set with flickering candles and a deck of cards that seemed older than the city itself.

“…A fortune teller?”

“Yes, precisely.”

The woman revealed a smile, brushing back her braided hair from beneath her hood.

“I sensed your worries as you passed by. Would you consider a consultation with me?”

Even though civilization existed here, complete with banks and all, it was still a doomed world.

Commonly, robbers prowled unmonitored areas beyond the system’s reach.

In such a world, someone setting up shop in a dark alley was likely up to something shady.

“Ah, you seem suspicious of me.”

Noticing my hesitation, the woman smiled kindly and reassured me in a soothing manner.

“But don’t worry. I can see the future… I chose this alley for my business today because I foresaw that no danger would come here.”

“…You foresaw no danger?”

“Yes, I’m confident I’ll leave this place unharmed tonight, so I felt comfortable offering you my services.”

The woman began to write something on a piece of paper in her hand. After a moment, she looked at me with half-lidded eyes and asked quietly,

“Let me ask you. Are you the kind of person who would take advantage of a woman selling fortunes alone in a dark alley late at night?”

“Hey, no way. Life’s tough enough without becoming a criminal.”

My response was half sincere.

The other half was still wary, preferring to flee rather than reach out. This was an age where children could summon a storm, and some old man could cause a mini ice age. 

Underestimating someone based on their looks was asking for death. 

“Hmm, is that so?”

After hearing my response, she smirked and showed me the note she had written before I had answered.

[Hey, no way. Life’s tough enough without becoming a criminal.]

“…What?”

What was this?

Why did it have what I had just said written on it?

I narrowed my eyes and looked at the woman once again. 

“So, young man, what will you do?” 

“Since you know the future, don’t you already know the answer?”

She snickered and pointed at the seat in front of her, 

“Take place.”

I hesitated, 

“…Do you know I don’t have any money?”

“Of course, I know that too. That’s why I offered. The first session will be free, and if you find the answer satisfactory, I hope you’ll visit again or recommend me to your acquaintances…”

Why not? She was offering both a demonstration of her abilities and a free service. It felt like it would be a loss to walk away.

“So now, what should I do?” Now that I was seated, while I was still doubtful, I had to admit that this whole situation was becoming intriguing. 

“Impatient are we? Please place your hand on this deck of cards.”

“Ah, yes. Like this, right?”

“Yes, just like that…”

As I followed her instruction and placed my hand on the deck, she overlaid her hands on mine and began to exert force.

“Please stay still. I’m now attuning the cards to your presence.”

“Okay.” 

This seems like bullshit to me.

Suppressing the urge to give a snide comment, I watched as she focused and exerted force on our joined hands.

“Yes, quietly, slowly… Breathe out and concentrate.”

“…Like this, you mean?”

“Yes, well done. With this, the preparation to see your future is complete.”

A faint light emanated from the cards. Although it was a world where magic existed, the strangeness and mystique of that light felt quite profound.

Soon, she began moving her palm over the surface of the cards with a satisfied smile.

“With this, all the movements of the stars that will be observed from now on will revolve around you.”

“…The movement of the stars?”

“Everything in this world is governed by a predetermined destiny… Fortune telling is the art of reading the past, present, and future by observing the movements of stars that exist outside this planet.”

Reading the future through the movements of stars. This was quite interesting. 

The Seer class did exist, but from what I knew, they received oracles from the Constellations at random times and could not really control their power.

Her words would imply that she was a very high-ranked Seer. I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was all a bit far-fetched. But I had nothing to lose. 

“Your worries also stem from anxiety about the future. By verifying the future, you can surely alleviate some of your current anxiety.”

Hah

“Can you also read minds?”

“Cold reading is nothing but analysis and observation. You wear your emotions on your sleeves. I would be a failure if I couldn’t guess them correctly.”

She snorted, and I shrugged. I had nothing to say to that. Deciding to change the topic, I asked something that always intrigued me.

“But if destiny is really predetermined, doesn’t it mean that whatever I do after seeing the future is fixed?”

“Hehe, even if that’s the case, don’t worry. The future can change depending on how you continue in the present after seeing the future. Conversely, if you’re satisfied with that future, you can just stay true to the present.”

In short, seeing the fortune itself became a variable that could change the predetermined future.

Indeed. If it couldn’t even offer that much change, then there would be no point in fortune-telling in the first place.

Perhaps, for someone like me who was just a low-ranking hunter, this was an unbelievable opportunity, and it was even given for free.

I felt the tension build as she concentrated her energy on the glowing cards before her and confidently addressed me.

“Now, fervently wish for the future you desire to see. If a future exists for you, that future will certainly manifest before both you and me through the cards.”

“The future I want to see…”

Bewitched by her words, I placed my hands forward, closed my eyes, and quietly thought to myself.

The future I most desired to see.

The first thing that came to mind was, of course, whether I could become an official hunter or climb the Tower.

“Perfect.” She said.

She fanned out her deck in silence, fingers gliding over the cards like they knew her better than fate itself. One by one, she drew.

“The Tower… reversed.”

Her voice was soft, almost mournful, the kind that made silence feel like something sacred.

“This is your past. Not destruction in a flash… but collapse drawn out. Foundations rotting beneath your feet. Everything you’ve built, unraveling, one breath at a time.”

She pulled another card, her movements slow and deliberate.

Another card slipped free between her fingers. Her eyes flickered. Her lips parted slightly, like the truth resisted being spoken.

“The Moon.”

She spoke the name as if unveiling a secret she shouldn’t have touched.

“Obscured truth. Lies wrapped in kindness. You will walk forward believing you know the path… only to find the hands reaching for you are pulling you toward the grave. Soon, you will be faced with a choice. The choice that will determine your future. A choice between a peaceful death and a life full of suffering.”

Her gaze lifted, steady and calm, but unforgiving.

“You will suffer, child of fate. Not because you are cursed… but because you are chosen. And those chosen by destiny are always the first to bleed.”

The final card trembled as she held it between two fingers, as if fate itself hesitated.

“The Fool.”

Her expression softened, just enough to hint at something almost human beneath the veil.

“And yet… even now, the story has not ended. For the one who walks the cliff’s edge, has one choice left. Death is only the start of a new Journey.”

She leaned forward, her voice barely above a whisper, each syllable sharp enough to scar.

“Will you be an innocent fool? Starting a treacherous journey on a thorn-filled path, or will you be a wise man? Accepting your limitations and finding peace in the smaller things in life. The choice is yours. But know this…The Path of a Fool always leads to discovering a new world full of possibilities.”

She laughed, her hand touching the last card, but in the end never turning it. 

“As for what happens next? Sadly, I cannot tell. This is an adventure for you to observe.”