Unable to repay my student loans, I had no choice but to work part-time as a demon hunter.

December 25st, early morning.

The time is approaching.

Vera endured until the last day of the ceremony.

She was on patrol when she stopped to rest under a locust tree. It had rained lightly the night before, and the soil was damp.

Hopefully today will be as peaceful as yesterday, and hopefully we can get back to Lundnim tomorrow. Gordon came back inside; she was cooking beef.

The ceremony doesn't need to be earth-shattering; once the things come out, Gordon is alive, and they go back.

It's that simple.

It's too simple to say that it will happen so easily.

Vera picked up the living water compass. The black needle hesitated at first, then turned ominously.

Looking in that direction.

Damp, bloody, foul-smelling...

An ordinary hunting dog would probably mistake it for an otter that had died in the ditch, but Vera was different; she had extensive experience living under bridges.

This is the stench of the Lundnium sewers; it shouldn't be in the suburbs.

Following the scent, a huge footprint appeared in the damp soil, which had now formed a puddle.

Looking up, the footprints stretched out from afar, stopping here and facing the Golden Oak Manor.

He stood here last night, gazing at the manor, wondering if anyone was inside.

Vera memorized the shape of the footprints and silently walked back.

……

Vera went back and told Gordon about it.

  

"What's this? Something that walks upright with only four toes and has thick, blunt claw marks?" She drew it on the paper with a charcoal pencil.

Gordon thought for a while.

"A crocodile's hind leg. Lundnim certainly won't be able to buy shoes that fit him."

"This guy suspects we're here."

"But there's no evidence. He should have been eliminating incorrect answers before finally looking at the least likely place."

"I hope he doesn't come." Vera really wanted to end this last day peacefully.

In less than 24 hours, they will be able to shut down the machine and go home with the results.

"Have you seen Gray?" Gordon asked.

"Yes, he went to the place you indicated, the mill four miles away yesterday. I saw it from afar. He was punctual and very regular."

"Grey is still an honest man," Gordon nodded.

……

in the afternoon.

Gray rode his horse to the intersection of Old Mill Road and Saints Road, with a white raven perched on each of his shoulders.

He was dressed in a white trench coat, looking dashing and spirited. His chestnut horse, though it had traveled a long way, was still strong and brave.

He glanced at his pocket watch; the instructions told him to stay there for a while. There was no mill, no saints, and he had a feeling a dried-out raven would appear soon.

The previous nine locations seemed chaotic, but they formed an arc in his mind, guiding him to meander closer to a certain place, as he wanted to see where the destination was.

After waiting for a while, Gray decided to go back.

A line of semi-transparent silver appeared before his eyes.

"Are you being followed?"

Gray shook his head.

The next second, the question mark dispersed and turned into an arrow pointing towards the dense forest beside the road.

Gray let the white crow fly first, then spurred his horse away from the road.

He walked through clumps of bushes, around an abandoned hut, and came to the base of an oak tree struck by lightning, about 50 meters from the intersection.

Gordon is here.

Gray paused for a moment.

After not seeing him for several days, his entire demeanor had changed somewhat.

His black hair was slightly longer than before, carrying a hint of weariness, but his eyes were bright and piercing, showing that he knew very well how to walk the path of life.

That carefree student spirit has vanished with the wind; now he's more like a hunter.

Unlike Gray, who relies on guns and swords, Gordon will dig a pit beforehand, inviting the monster inside to lie down and save him some effort.

"When did you acquire this ability?" Gray stared at the thin lines in the air.

"Anything can happen in three months. Some people go bankrupt, some get married. I learned how to invite people over remotely."

"Who refined the source material for you?"

"Myself."

Gray dismounted, his white boots landing smoothly without splashing any mud.

"You should meet me at the crossroads; I'm a big shot." Gray looked back at the crossroads.

"That would reduce the sense of ceremony, and besides, chatting on the road could easily lead to being hit by a car and crushing an important person into a flattened figure."

"There are indeed rumors in town that you were run over by a carriage and turned into mincemeat. I heard that Miss Montfort went to school dressed in black and wearing a black hat."

"Given the city's traffic congestion, I'd be lucky to even get a scratch."

"Anyway, where to?" Gray followed Gordon forward, feeling that Gordon was going to lead him on a roundabout way again.

"An abandoned manor where I was carrying out a top-secret mission."

"What top-secret mission could a college student like you have?"

"Now I'm Investigator Vic."

Gordon pointed to the trainee investigator badge on his chest.

It's not surprising. It's not surprising at all.

This top-secret operation may be part of the Empire's campaign to eradicate the Blackwater Order. Gordon must have accomplished something to obtain a piece of Source Essence from the Empire's Source Essence Vault.

Gray himself was often dispatched by the Department of Paranormal Affairs to do jobs that were neither explainable nor easy to come back alive.

Thinking about this, the ten days of travel didn't seem so terrible.

“Please continue, Investigator Vic, why did you make me drive around in the countryside?” Gray used a polite form of address.

"My hiding method is very secretive; cultists would have to conduct a thorough search to find me. And if wild dogs see a lion lurking nearby, they will keep a low profile."

"Hmph. But there's an aura nearby... that isn't afraid of me."

"What does that aura resemble? A crocodile?"

"certainly."

"Coincidentally, I was on his dining list. His footprints weren't far from ours."

"Our goal is to kill him?"

"The Crocodile Man's prize money, the Otherworldly essence and rare materials, a victory worthy of being in the newspapers. This is an opportunity to gain both fame and fortune, all that's missing is a professional."

"Um……"

"Don't worry, we have an evacuation route and support. Just fire a signal flare and the nearby mounted police will come to our aid."

"You greatly underestimate me. The newspapers call me the fourth most sought-after hunter in the city. I'm just thinking about how to finish this fight as quickly as possible," Gray said proudly.

"I remember it was fifth."

"The fourth one died a few months ago."

They entered Golden Oak Estate, and Gray had two white ravens scout it out. The estate was completely abandoned, as if no one had ever lived there.

"You've hidden well." Gray led the horse into the stable.

"The fishmen mainly rely on water to find people. For the past ten days, we haven't had any contact with groundwater, river water, or public water pipes. We rely on a few large copper tanks for drinking water, and even bathing is done with the principle of borrowing and returning."

"major."

"Be careful when you come in, there's a wardrobe above your head."

"Unprofessional." Gray looked up at the large wardrobe above, which served as a trap.

"To die from furniture is the greatest insult we can give to our enemies."

The two entered the main hall, where Vera was already waiting by the long table, sitting upright with a cold expression.

Without exchanging pleasantries, Gray leaned his sword "Steel Core" against the side of his chair, thought for a moment, and then asked the same question.

Are you familiar with identifying source materials?

"I know a little."

"The day you sold me the failed source material, it probably wasn't a coincidence. You know what it can do."

"Professor Winslow is a good teacher."

"You've learned more than he taught you. You can even concoct medicine?"

"certainly."

"How much of the source energy can be retained?"

"More than 80%"

"true and false?"

"If I say 90%, you probably won't believe me."

Gray was naturally suspicious.

For more than a decade, he has entrusted the source material to experts at the Royal Alchemy Bureau for processing, with some retaining 30% or 60% of its activity, not to mention the 80% that Gordon described.

but……

What if?

"Is it stable?" Gray's heart skipped a beat.

"As stable as your quote."

Gray thought for a moment, but ultimately didn't take out two source materials.

Think about it carefully, what if this is a husband-and-wife business that's rife with shady dealings? A man and a woman in an abandoned manor, with a wardrobe trap hanging at the entrance.

"...If I help you kill the crocodile man, you help me identify two source materials and refine them into a magic potion."

"?" Gordon's eyes widened.

"It's not some priceless source material, nor is it something I obtained illegally." Gray frowned.

"Did I miss something?"

"I've made myself very clear."

"Where's the money?"

"What money?"

"Travel expenses, appraisal fees, refining fees, material costs, insurance premiums, equipment depreciation costs, compensation for the mental anguish caused by facing an unknown source... You're impeccably dressed, you're definitely not short of money."

"It's precisely because I'm impeccably dressed that I'm short of money. A professional hunter has so many expenses. I need to order custom-made clothes, save up to buy Source Material, and even buy GG (Game for Gamblers) ad space in the newspaper. Do you know how expensive it is to kill GGs?"

"Then you'll have to keep helping me with my tasks."

"several times?"

"One appraisal, one refinement. You need to process two source materials, that's four times. After it's done, you'll owe me four times." Gordon held up four fingers.

"I might as well just give you the firm."

"I call it a long-term, stable partnership."

"Is the identification guaranteed to be accurate? Is the refining process guaranteed to be successful?"

"able."

Gray gave Gordon a deep look.

A stable alchemist and appraisal skills are enough to give a hunter a try.

"Give me a discount as a friend; I can't owe you that much."

"Only acquaintances are entitled to owe me so much."

Gray was silent for a few seconds.

Jokes are jokes.

Four cooperative hunts mean four times turning their backs on each other.

He still needs to observe the two men's performance and sincerity in the battle before deciding whether to continue.

"The spoils of war will still be distributed according to contribution."

"No problem," Gordon agreed immediately. "The fair distribution of benefits is important evidence that humans are superior to salted fish."

"Then I have no other questions."

"Very good, very good." Gordon solemnly extended his right hand, fingers spread wide. "Then, we shall witness the covenant with the etiquette of a Source Hunter."

Gray was stunned.

"What the hell?"

"Hunter's Covenant, is it like this, saying we have to hold hands?" Gordon looked at Vera.

Vera turned her gaze to the window.

"I'd rather swear on my honor and my soul than do that," Gray gritted his teeth.

"You missed a handshake of great historical significance," Gordon said, then withdrew his hand in disappointment.

"You call that a handshake?"

……

After reaching an agreement, the next step was to confirm the combat strength and division of labor.

The manor is located on dry highlands, where the crocodile-men cannot utilize their aquatic advantage. But since they dared to leave Lundnium, they certainly wouldn't come here alone to their deaths.

"I can kill, track, and intercept monsters. I can lock onto a target and prevent it from escaping, and I can recover when I'm near death," Vera explained.

"I can summon white crows, and I possess the city's finest marksmanship and swordsmanship. Of course, I can also unleash a domain that can annihilate any enemy who steps into it. To die by my hand would be an honor."

"I have a string."

"..."

"..."

"You'd better have something else," Gray said, looking at Gordon.

"Of course. I can sense my environment, track contacts, communicate over long distances, and I'm also the best doctor, forensic expert, and alchemy specialist."

Gray accepted the answer.

If Gordon truly possessed that skill, he wouldn't mind introducing him to the core hunter circles of Lundnim. Clearly, the world isn't lacking in people who are simply good at fighting.

"If there are enemies," Gray pointed to the outer perimeter, "I will do my best to prevent them from getting close. As long as it's not a Tier 4 hunter or a dangerous behemoth, I'm confident of victory. Of course, I'll need your cooperation."

Vera nodded.

"Do you know anything about this field?"

"It can expand, but only a little bit, and the effect only lasts for a few seconds. The source material isn't compatible enough."

Gray pondered for a moment.

"That's not the only reason," he said. "You two. What do you think the world is made of?"

"..." Vera didn't know.

"Elements." Gordon nodded.

"Yes." Gray nodded vigorously. "What element?"

"Hydrogen, helium, lithium, beryllium, boron, carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, fluorine, neo

Gray paused for a moment.

"You made up all these words." Gray stared at Gordon for a long time.