Four contracts. Five days.
All low-level. All clean.
No collateral damage. No witnesses who remembered details clearly. No anomalies logged.
The guild clerk barely looked up as Kael submitted his reports. "Efficient," the man muttered. "No flair."
Kael nodded.
That night, he listened.
Hunters talked when they thought no one was paying attention.
"There's a quiet one."
"No wasted movement."
"Doesn't overreach."
One name surfaced repeatedly in unrelated conversations.
Black Crow.
A renowned hunter. No official organization. Known for surviving hunts that should have killed him.
Kael memorized the name.
Information mattered.