Walking back to our dorm, Ji-Hyun was laughing his ass off.
Can't blame him, really—who wouldn't laugh after watching someone lose two million dollars in one day?
"Kyahahaha! Ah, my stomach—hahaha!"
"Shut up!"
This was beyond humiliating.
Not only did I lose to Ji-Hyun, but I also blew almost all the money I'd earned in the Underworld.
"…Guess I'll have to go back there," I muttered under my breath.
"Huh? What was that?" Ji-Hyun asked, still half-laughing.
"Nothing." I sighed, straightening my uniform. "I'll be out for the night. Don't wait up."
Before he could say anything else, I bolted toward the academy gates.
Ji-Hyun blinked after me, still grinning. "What's that guy even planning now…?"
◇◇◇
BANG!
The doors of the Mercenary Guild slammed open with a loud crash.
The receptionist flinched, nearly spilling her drink.
"Oh! Leonardo! You came at the right—eeek!"
"Bounty. Now."
Her smile froze. "…U-Um."
She fumbled through a pile of parchments and slid one toward me with trembling hands.
A bounty poster of a woman stared back at me.
Even printed in cheap black ink, her eyes carried something sharp—like she could still see me through the paper.
Below her name, crimson numbers glared like blood.
Hannibal Liana.
{ 11,000,000 $ }
I ran my thumb along the edge of the poster, feeling the rough fibers.
"…Eleven million," I muttered. "For a Wandering Pup?"
It wasn't surprise that slipped out—it was calculation.
Something about this bounty didn't add up.
Usually, bounties for a Wandering Pup ranged between one and four million at best.
This was way out of my league.
The receptionist cleared her throat nervously.
"Oh—well, I forgot to tell you! Sir Leonardo Auditore, congratulations on your promotion to Blood Hound. You're now qualified to take higher-risk missions like this one."
I blinked. "But I've only completed one bounty. Yesterday."
"Ah, yes, but…" She coughed lightly and straightened her posture, as if reciting from a manual.
"You see, there are seven ranks in the Mercenary Guild:
1. Wandering Pup
2. Underdog
3. Blood Hound
4. Hellhound
5. Abyssal Fang
6. Infernal Warden
7. Cerberus.
You can climb the ranks by completing many small missions—or by accomplishing one massive one. But there's also a special route: a letter of recommendation."
She smiled awkwardly. "And it seems the House of Fire sent one on your behalf."
That explained the promotion… though it raised even more questions.
How the hell did I skip straight from Wandering Pup to Blood Hound?
"Well, I guess I'll take this one," I said, tapping the poster. "Got anything else I can work on?"
"Oh, there's plenty," the receptionist replied, exhaling in relief now that I wasn't shouting anymore. "Since the number of mercenaries in the Underworld dropped drastically yesterday, missions have piled up faster than we can manage."
I raised a brow. "And why's that?"
"Well…" She leaned in, lowering her voice. "Since the Queen of the Underworld declared war against the West, she's been taking mercenaries straight to the frontlines."
I froze for half a second.
Guess it's already the start of that part of the story.
The war between the West and the South—it was one of the biggest turning points in the whole world of Atlas Online.
That conflict turned everyday battles into legends. It was the event that made heroes shine: rescuing civilians from a bombing run, fighting demigods, slaying corrupted saints, and even facing the Queen of the Underworld herself—the so-called Goddess of the South.
But for now, that was all still far away.
And I wasn't a hero. Not yet.
"Alright," I said, shaking my head. "So, what's the highest-paying mission available?"
Her face brightened instantly. "Oh, we've got a couple of those!"
She slid two papers across the counter.
The first read:
{ Collecting the Branch of the World Tree } – 21,000,000 $
And the second:
{ Injure the Saintess } – 27,000,000 $
"Both came in today," she said cheerfully. "Big pay, big danger."
I stared at the papers for a long moment.
These weren't missions—they were suicide notes.
Collect a branch from the World Tree? That's basically asking to get vaporized. The place is guarded by high-ranking spirit users who could snap my neck just by looking at me.
And injure the Saintess? Forget it. She's sealed behind holy wards, guarded by paladins—and rumored to have her own god watching over her personally.
I set both papers aside and lifted the bounty poster again.
"I'll stick with this one."
"Suit yourself~" she sang. "Just… try not to get eaten by her, okay?"
"Yeah, sure." I turned and headed for the exit, the echo of my footsteps cutting through the quiet hall.
But before I could reach the doors, a man in a black suit stepped into my path. Sunglasses. Perfectly combed hair. A face so expressionless it almost felt rehearsed.
Seriously—why do people in the Underworld all have the same fashion sense? It's like there's a uniform nobody told me about.
He bowed slightly.
"Sir Leonardo. We've been sent to escort you to the Herana mansion."
"You got the wrong person."
He lifted a hand, blocking my path.
"What do you think you're doing?" I asked, voice low.
"Just doing my job, sir," he replied evenly. "I hope you'll quietly follow me back to the mansion."
With a flick of my wrist, the air rippled.
His suit shredded apart as invisible force threads snapped through it, wrapping around his limbs and locking him in place.
"This is for your own good," I said flatly.
I didn't wait for a reply. I turned and walked away, the sound of his muffled struggle fading behind me as I slipped into the streets to hunt down my target.
A soft chuckle broke the silence.
"It seems my sister was right," the man murmured.
He tugged at the silver strings binding him—snapping them apart with absurd ease. Then, with a casual motion, he reached up and peeled away his face.
The disguise tore like paper, revealing crimson hair and golden eyes that gleamed in the dark.
The first son of the Herana family—Ash von Herana—smiled faintly.
"Interesting."
◇◇◇
(Han Seora — POV)
Meanwhile, at the academy.
I've been searching for that stupid teacher of mine, but so far, no luck.
Not even a single clue.
I really thought that by enrolling in Atlas Academy—staying close to the main character and the rest of the cast—I'd find something about him.
Some hint. Some trace. Anything.
But no. Nothing.
Just endless lectures, annoying cadets, and cafeteria food that could kill a person faster than poison.
"This is killing me," I muttered, slumping deeper into the sofa and placing the book I'd been reading on top of my face.
"What's killing you?" came a familiar voice.
I peeked over the edge of the book—and there he was.
A boy about my age, emerald-green eyes glinting like polished jewels under the light.
Golden hair that looked almost too perfect, paired with a face that could make any girl forget how to breathe.
I groaned quietly.
Prince Joshua Alric Pendragon.
The crown prince of Great Britain himself.
Because of course he'd show up now.
This guy is seriously annoying. Out of all the people I've met so far, he's easily the worst. Not only does he act like a complete jerk, but now he's got his eyes on me, too.
Seriously—out of all possible romantic routes, why did I have to get stuck with a villain like him?
"It's not nice seeing you, Prince Joshua."
He smiled like my words were the sweetest praise. "What? But meeting me should be a blast. Everyone seems to want to get close to me."
Yeah, because they're after your throne, not your personality.
But who am I to judge?
My smartband buzzed, vibrating against my wrist.
[Incoming call from {Old Lady}]
"Hey, Seora, do you want to go on a date with—"
I silenced him with a finger pressed against his lips. "Shut up. I need to take this."
["Seora! I got information about that teacher of yours."] The voice on the other end was frantic. ["Apparently, he had a close friend—someone he always shared drinks with. People said they saw him together with that friend right before he went missing."]
My pulse quickened. "Really? Do you know that person's name?"
["Her name is Hannibal Liana. She runs a clinic in the Underworld. I already arranged a meeting for you—7:30 PM. Don't be late."]
"Got it. Thanks. I'll pay you back later."
I ended the call and immediately dashed toward my dorm.
"It's 6:17 PM…" I muttered, glancing at my watch. "I've still got time to prepare."
To be continued