The following Saturday, as promised, Pan returned to the lab. This time, the place was eerily quiet—no raccoons hurling insults, no parrots demanding their lawyer, no squirrels with questionable vocabulary.
Dr. Lira greeted him with her usual icy calm and led him into a new section of the facility. The door opened with a hiss… revealing what could only be described as a lab disguised as a theatre—rows of seats, a huge projection screen, and cables dangling everywhere. It looked like someone tried to mix a cinema, a spaceship, and a crime scene.
"Welcome to the Analysis Hall," Dr. Lira said proudly. "We'll be reviewing field recordings today."
Pan nodded, sitting down cautiously. "Field recordings, huh? That sounds… calm."
It wasn't.
The lights dimmed, and the first video played. A giant, slobbering monster lunged across the screen, gnashing its teeth at fleeing humans. The sound was guttural and full of rage—then, to Pan's trained ear, it turned into words.
Pan squinted. "Uh… it's yelling… 'I'm gonna eat your shoes, you shiny-legged clown!' Then… hmm, okay… now it's just… cursing. A lot."
Lira's pen moved across her clipboard. "Noted. Continue."
The next clip started. A smaller monster, sort of blob-shaped, was sobbing dramatically as it tore apart a car.
Pan frowned. "That one's… uh… crying for its mom. Still crying… now cursing its mom. Now crying for its mom again. Now threatening to sue its mom. Wow, that's… emotionally complex."
By the fourth clip, Pan was gripping the armrest. A hulking creature with six arms screamed so loud the speakers rattled.
Pan blinked hard. "Cursing, cursing, still cursing, oh—there's a prayer in there—nope, back to cursing." He forced a smile. "Maybe it's… religious?"
The fifth video began. This one showed a long, wormlike creature writhing on the ground. The translation came through like nails on a chalkboard.
Pan hesitated. "This one's… uh… calling itself a 'beautiful disaster.' Keeps repeating that. Now it's… asking to be stepped on?" He looked around nervously. "Yeah, definitely a masochist. Should I… write that down?"
Lira didn't even blink. "Please do."
Pan's pen trembled. "Noted… emotionally… unstable… worm."
The next few videos blurred together. One monster kept coughing between curses, another was sobbing for its "beautiful wife Cheryl" while smashing through a city block, and one… was making noises that Pan desperately hoped were not what he thought they were.
And then came the grand finale: a large, ugly brute staring directly at the camera, grunting violently.
Pan leaned forward. "Okay, this one's… saying something about humans smelling like expired cheese… oh—nope, there it is again—more cursing… and… uh…" He froze. "I think it just… farted? Loudly. And then apologized to the cameraman."
Dr. Lira nodded like this was perfectly normal. "Fascinating."
Pan swallowed hard. His face twitched. "Y-yeah, totally fascinating. Real… linguistic goldmine here."
When the lights came on, his hands were shaking.
"So," Lira asked, "what did we learn from today's session?"
Pan forced a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "That most monsters are rude, traumatized, or in desperate need of therapy."
Dr. Lira scribbled something on her clipboard. "Excellent observation. Same time next week?"
Pan's left eye twitched. "Sure," he said, voice cracking. "Can't… wait."
Pan finally left the laboratory, his mind still thinking about different monsters that he had seen at the lab. The sky above Green Carp City had turned a soft amber hue as he rode back in the president's car. By the time he reached the mall, it was still early evening — quiet enough that the air felt clean and still.
He decided not to return directly to his quarters. Instead, he took a turn toward the city's main commercial hub — Emerald Rise Central Mall — one of the largest structures in the western district. It was an immense, multi-tiered complex built of reflective silver glass and pale stone, its design influenced by both modern human architecture and remnants of old-world aesthetics. The entrance gates bore faint etching of runic lines that flickered when scanned by a person's identification chip, regulating access based on status — civilian or hunter.
Inside, the mall was divided into vast wings. The Hunters' Division occupied the east side — filled with weapon vendors, armor artisans, equipment refiners, and even facilities that specialized in processing monster parts for material research. The air there buzzed with faint energy — traces of spiritual residue clinging to armor pieces and stones on display. Loud negotiations could be heard from several booths as merchants and hunters argued over the price of beast cores and rare alloys.
Pan, however, walked toward the Civilian Division. It was quieter, smoother, and more structured. Artificial skylights illuminated clean walkways lined with sleek displays — home supplies, furniture enchanted for self-cleaning, minor protective charms for households, and small-scale transportation vehicles for city dwellers. Everything here had a calm, regulated atmosphere compared to the chaotic side of the hunters.
He walked deeper until he reached the Automotive Gallery. A wide circular platform displayed dozens of vehicles — from compact hover models to heavy ground cruisers. Most used hybrid engines that combined refined spirit stones and low-tier energy cores for efficiency. Each car had a small projection of its performance data, cost, and registered manufacturer history.
Pan's gaze settled on a model near the center — a "Silverline Asterion 4S." It wasn't too large, but its frame carried a refined solidity. Matte gray bodywork merged with pale blue accent lines that pulsed faintly when the engine was active. The design was simple, elegant, and functional — something meant for quiet endurance rather than display. Its drive system was based on a stabilized Type-B spirit core, capable of long-distance travel without refueling for up to two hundred kilometers.
The interior was lined with soft, synthetic leather that adjusted to the user's body shape. The dashboard was simple, only displaying essential metrics such as core resonance, battery efficiency, and air filtration index. Pan tested the door — the movement was fluid, silent, and balanced.
He stood there for a while, observing the car under the dim blue lighting. It wasn't extravagant, but it represented a form of quiet independence — mobility, stability, and the ability to go wherever he wanted without relying on anyone.
After some consideration, he made the purchase. The cost was 236,000 credits — a significant expense but still well within what he had recently earned. As the transaction completed and his identity was verified, the car was officially registered under his name.
Not long after he stepped out of the gallery, a soft chime echoed from his wristband — a transaction alert. He looked down at the display. Another 150,000 credits had been deposited into his account. The description read:
Transfer from Green Carp Hunters Association
Negotiation Assistance – Phase II Allocation
"About time..." He said.
He glanced once more at the car parked before him — its smooth frame reflecting the lights of the city — and felt a subtle sense of accomplishment.
Quietly, he started the car. The faint vibration of the spirit engine filled the air as the vehicle came to life with a low, resonant hum. With that, Pan drove out of the mall.
Pan drove the car to his own small mall and parked it on the road as he didn't have a dedicated garage yet. Mentally tired from today's work, he decided to sleep early so that he can wake up earlier the next day which was Sunday and his day of relaxation.
He already had the day planned, he wanted to visit the city sponsered outskirt wilderness army training camp. It was a must participate program for all as it taught important basic skills to hunters and civilians on how to deal with monsters and weapons. Although he didn't want to risk his life to hunt monsters, the weapons and military equipment were the romance of young men his age.