The walk through the quiet, repurposed hallways of our guild headquarters was a strange kind of victory lap. After recruiting the medical team, a new, powerful branch had been added to our growing empire. Tiffany moved beside me, a silent, analytical presence, her mind clearly processing the implications of our latest acquisition.
"That was a good move," she said, her voice a low murmur that was just for the two of us. "For both Phoenix Capital and the Hunter's Guild. A charitable medical foundation gives us a legitimate public face, which will generate a massive amount of goodwill. It's a perfect PR shield for our… other activities. And it gives us a loyal, in-house medical team. It's a win on every front."
I looked at her, a small, genuine smile on my face. "They're worth investing in," I said. "They have skill, but more importantly, they have compassion. That's a resource you can't buy."
Kenji, who had been leading us, stopped in front of the last door. "Leader," he rumbled, his voice full of a quiet respect. "We have reached the last three women who surrendered to us."
He opened the door, and we stepped inside. The room was another sparse, repurposed classroom, but the three women sitting inside transformed it into something else entirely. They were sitting on simple wooden chairs, yet they carried themselves with an elegance and a presence that made the dusty room feel like a royal court. I was immediately struck by them; they were three top-notch beauties, the kind that were exceedingly rare to find.
The first, a young woman with a soft oval face and a defined jawline, exuded an aura of sultry, confident elegance. Her skin was a smooth, glowing tan, and her almond-shaped hazel eyes held a direct, challenging gaze. Her long, straight, silky dark brown hair was parted in the middle, framing a face with full, pouty lips and high cheekbones. She wore a simple strapless white mini-dress, but she wore it like it was haute couture, her posture confident, her slim, petite build radiating a coiled, restless energy.
The second woman was her complete opposite. Where the first was fire, this one was water. Her skin was a fair, smooth porcelain, and her light blue-gray eyes held a slightly sleepy, alluring gaze that seemed to hold a universe of sadness. Her long, silky light brown hair flowed naturally over her shoulders. She was dressed in what looked like an oversized white satin shirt, styled as a sultry dress, but on her, it didn't look provocative; it looked… vulnerable. She radiated a soft, quiet aura, a fragile beauty that made you want to protect her from the world.
The third woman was a doll come to life. She had a small, oval-shaped face with large, wide-set eyes and small, full lips. Her skin was a flawless, glowing porcelain, and her long, wavy dark brown hair was cut with bangs that covered her forehead. She wore a shiny, silky lavender gown that looked completely out of place in this dusty room, yet she wore it with an elegant grace that was breathtaking. Her figure was a slender, exaggerated hourglass, and she sat with her back perfectly straight, a picture of refined, high-fashion beauty.
They all looked up as we entered. I saw a flicker of fear, of defiance, of a deep, soul-deep weariness in their eyes. Tiffany and I took our seats opposite them.
"Can you please tell us about yourselves?" I asked, my voice calm and gentle.
The first woman, the one with the fire in her hazel eyes, spoke first. Her voice was a low, husky sound, laced with a frustration that was almost a physical force. "My name is Francesca Hemsworth. I'm a racetrack driver. Or, I was." She gestured vaguely with her hand. "My crew and I, we run an independent circuit. The Ruthless Animals saw a business opportunity. They 'invested' in us, which means they drowned us in debt we could never repay. Then they started demanding… favors. For me and my crew to work for them, to use our skills for their dirty work. We've been their prisoners ever since."
Francesca's thought, "And what are you? Just another man who sees a tool he can use? Don't look at me with pity. I don't need it."
The second woman, the one with the sad, beautiful eyes, spoke next, her voice a quiet, almost broken whisper. "I am Grace Clive. I'm… I was… just a normal college student." A single, perfect tear traced a path down her porcelain cheek. "My parents… they have a gambling problem. They lost everything. They lost so much that… they sold me to the men here to clear their debt." She couldn't meet my eyes, her gaze fixed on her hands, which were twisting in her lap. "They tried to… to make me do things. But one of their own members, a man I'd never seen before, he fought for my dignity. He protected me. But I've been trapped here ever since. That's all my story."
Grace thought, "I have nowhere to go. My own family abandoned me. What's the point of anything? I'm just… empty."
Finally, the third woman, the doll in the lavender dress, spoke. Her voice was a cold, hard thing, a stark contrast to her delicate appearance. "Eleanor Carter. My brother is one of their high-ranking members." She spat the word 'brother' like it was a curse. "He wants to control my life. Every aspect of it. When our mother died, he became my guardian, and my jailer. He forced me to work here as a hostess, just so he could keep an eye on me, so he could remind me every single day that I belonged to him. He's a scumbag. A piece of filth who gets off on power."
Eleanor thought, "I will get my revenge. I will burn his world to the ground, just like he burned mine."
I looked at Tiffany. She gave me a single, almost imperceptible nod. I turned my gaze back to the three of them. "Do you want to work for us?"
Francesca looked at me, a flicker of her earlier defiance returning. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," I said, my voice a calm, steady thing, "would you like to work for us? A legitimate job. A chance to do what you were meant to do. A chance to build your own career, free from debt, free from control."
Their reactions were a silent, powerful symphony of disbelief. Francesca's defiant mask cracked, revealing a flicker of a long-lost hope. Grace's sad, empty eyes widened, a spark of something, a question, lighting in their depths. And Eleanor's cold, hard anger faltered, replaced by a look of profound, utter shock.
"What do you even want to do?" I asked them, my voice softening. "Not what they forced you to do. What do you really want?"
Francesca was quiet for a long moment, as if the question was a foreign language she hadn't spoken in years. "I don't know," she finally admitted, her voice a low, frustrated murmur.
Grace just shook her head, a fresh wave of tears welling in her eyes. "I don't know. My own family left me. I'm… I'm hopeless."
Eleanor, however, knew exactly what she wanted. "I want my revenge," she said, her voice a low, vicious hiss. "I want to destroy my brother for what he did to me, for what he's become."
I looked at them, at the three broken, beautiful souls sitting before me. "Okay," I said. "Let's try a different question. Forget about right now. Forget about them. If you could do anything in the world, if you had no limits, no debts, no chains… what would your dream be? What did you want to be when you were a child?"
This time, the answers came, hesitant at first, then with a growing, fragile strength.
"I… I had a dream of being an F1 racer," Francesca said, a small, self-deprecating smile on her lips, as if admitting to a childish fantasy. "To be the best in the world."
"I just wanted to enjoy my school and college life," Grace whispered, her voice thick with a profound, heartbreaking sadness. "To make friends, to fall in love… maybe… maybe become an actress."
Eleanor's answer was the most surprising of all. The fire in her eyes was no longer just about revenge; it was about justice. "I wanted to join the police," she said, her voice firm and clear. "My mother… she died in an accident. A hit-and-run. The case was buried, the evidence disappeared. My brother… he was already involved with them then. With the Vulture Gang."
The moment she said the name, the atmosphere in the room turned to ice. Tiffany and I exchanged a sharp, knowing glance.
"After my mother was gone," Eleanor continued, her voice trembling with a barely suppressed rage, "my brother made my life a living hell. I wanted to fight for justice. For her. For all the other people whose lives have been ruined by scum like the Vulture Gang."
Francesca looked at me, a new, desperate hope in her eyes. "Can I really fulfill my childhood dream?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
Eleanor looked at me, her own gaze a mixture of disbelief and a dawning, terrifying hope. "Can I really become a police officer?"
And Grace, her beautiful blue-gray eyes now shining with tears, looked at me and asked the most heartbreaking question of all. "Can I really… be an actress?"
Before I could answer, Tiffany spoke, her voice a cool, logical, and unbelievably powerful counterpoint to their emotional turmoil. "Phoenix Capital Group," she began, her tone that of a CEO addressing her board, "is not just an investment firm. It is a conglomerate in the making. Francesca, you want to be an F1 racer? We will build you a racing team. We will fund it, we will provide you with the best engineers, the best technology. You will not just race; you will win."
She then turned to Grace. "You want to be an actress? Our PR department head is Christine Holmes, a legendary supermodel who is in the process of launching her own entertainment and fashion brand, 'Allure,' under the Phoenix umbrella. You will not just be an actress, Grace. You will be its first star."
Finally, she looked at Eleanor. "And you want to be a police officer? Our Chairperson has just been offered the position of Deputy Chief of Police. He has direct influence over the department. You will not just join the police, Eleanor. You will be fast-tracked. You will be given the resources and the authority to get the justice you seek."
The room was filled with a profound, stunned silence. The three women just stared at us, their minds struggling to comprehend the sheer, impossible scale of what Tiffany had just promised. Their small, broken dreams hadn't just been acknowledged; they had been taken and magnified into a grand, breathtaking reality.
I stood up, my own voice a calm, steady anchor in the storm of their emotions. "What she said is true," I said. "We are offering you more than just a job. We are offering you a new life. A chance to become the women you were always meant to be. The choice is yours."
Francesca, Grace, and Eleanor looked at each other, a silent, shared understanding passing between them. The frustration, the sadness, the anger—it was all still there. But now, it was mixed with something new. Something powerful.
Hope.
Francesca was the first to speak, her voice no longer defiant, but filled with a raw, trembling conviction. "I'm in."
Eleanor followed, her own voice a low, vicious promise. "I'll do whatever it takes."
Grace just looked at me, a single tear of pure, unadulterated joy rolling down her cheek. "Yes," she whispered.
I let a slow, satisfied smile spread across my face as I glanced at their status panels, their Soul Ledgers now reflecting their new, unshakeable loyalty.
Status:
Status:
Name: Francesca Hemsworth
Strength: 110
Agility: 185
Endurance: 120
Mentality: 160
Intelligence: 145
Mana: 0
Potential: A
Skills: [Expert in Racetrack Driving], [Novice in Vehicle Modification], [Expert in Freerunning ]
Passive Skills: [Lead from the Front], [Urban Navigator], [Adrenaline Junkie]
Superpower: [None]
Soul Ledger: [Awe of the Kingmaker] & [My Last Hope]
Status:
Name: Grace Clive
Strength: 55
Agility: 70
Endurance: 65
Mentality: 210
Intelligence: 130
Mana: 0
Potential: B+
Skills: [Novice in Empathetic Mimicry], [Compelling Performance]
Passive Skills: [Beacon of Innocence], [Unbreakable Hope], [Serene Presence]
Superpower: [None]
Soul Ledger: [Devotion to the Savior] & [A New Beginning]
Status:
Name: Eleanor Carter
Strength: 80
Agility: 170
Endurance: 105
Mentality: 250
Intelligence: 195
Mana: 0
Potential: A
Skills: [Novice in Information Gathering], [Novice in Stealth], [Lip Reading]
Passive Skills: [Vengeful Resolve], [Deceptive Frailty], [Threat Assessment]
Superpower: [None]
Soul Ledger: [Pledge to the Vindicator] & [My Weapon of Justice]
"Welcome to the Hunter's Guild".