Almost twenty years after the Ghost Hounds first made their presence known in Ragunna…
Somewhere deep within the den of the Hounds, a new commission blinked into the main terminal, catching the attention of the Hound who had his jaws free.
"A hire for a gun, huh?" The Hound, sweating profusely, straightened from his insane posture — balancing his entire body on a single pinky while doing push-ups — as he examined the message.
'From Jinzhou, eh?' His teal, cosmic eyes shimmered as he scanned the contents, before a though occurred to him. 'Hmm… From what my guild has gathered, I believe a certain mysterious figure, long prophesized by the Sentinel Jué, is set to arrive there.'
As the guild master of the Information Guild, Kurian had developed an extensive and formidable network, one that kept the entirety of the Ghost Hounds active.
Through unified efforts, the Information Guild funneled commissions from all corners of the world, ensuring the Hounds were always in motion, always informed, and always one step ahead.
Yet — as his eyes lazily swept the empty lounge and found nothing but silence and scattered chairs — Kurian began to wonder if any of it had been a good idea.
"Hey! Who ate my ice cream?"
"Oh, it was Doge over there."
"Kurian, you snitch!"
"I'm gonna kill you!"
"Can you two stop being so childish?!"
"Our microwave is broken."
"It's the socket that's broken."
"Anyone want to order something?"
"Fattie."
Those sounds unfurled in his memory like a warm, stubborn ribbon: the base alive with people who argued and teased, who laughed too loudly and left crumbs in every corner.
He could almost hear the clatter of spoons and the low, affectionate bickering that had once filled these halls.
'Honestly,' Kurian thought as his eyes drifted back to the message, 'I should've taken it easy when I started building the Information Guild, and not made it so formidable.'
A faint smile tugged at his lips. 'Regardless, the guild has long fulfilled its purpose, and now, it's time to let go.'
It had been nearly two decades since Kurian, under the alias Eden, had become both the founder and guild master of the Information Guild.
What had begun as a modest endeavor — a simple system to help the Ghost Hounds access commissions from across the world with ease — had swiftly evolved into something far grander, far more formidable.
But with growth came inevitability. The moment the Information Guild began to assert influence on a multinational scale, the giants stirred.
Giant corporates like the Lollo Logistics, the Pioneer Association, and even the Court of Savants came knocking the moment the Information Guild began to assert influence on a multinational scale.
It took painstaking effort and relentless maneuvering to defend the guild from these towering forces that sought to either absorb or dismantle it.
At one point, even Calcharo had suggested, "The Ghost Hounds have already made a name for themselves thanks to the Information Guild. There's no need to suffer just to protect it."
"Alright," Kurian — or rather, Eden — had decided, that the following day, the guild would be dissolved.
Yet when the time came, when he stood before the countless faces that filled the guild's main hall, the words refused to leave his mouth.
He looked at them — people from broken lands and forgotten corners of the world, outcasts and survivors who had found purpose here — and in that moment, his resolve wavered.
Suddenly, at that moment, he found himself reminiscing of a vow he had once made to his teacher...
"Ferdinand, never abandon the righteousness you carry in your heart. Never abandon those teachings." His teacher had said it with his last breath, each word a rasp against dying air.
"What is righteousness?" the young Ferdinand had asked, his voice soft, and sharply inquisitive.
His teacher's eyes, dimming yet piercing, met his. "Why do you fight for humans, despite their hatred?"
"Demons hate me too," Ferdinand had answered, and the teacher tilted his head, nudging the question in a different way. "What do you see in humans that makes you fight for them?"
Ferdinand paused, then whispered, "Teacher, a carp leaping from still waters is not merely guided by instinct; it is also its helplessness as in that brief flash above the surface, it proclaims to the world that it exists."
"Every demon, every demon-borne, has an innate thirst for war, blood, and violence," Ferdinand explained, before admitting. "I too carry that thirst."
These were the dark thoughts that had always lingered at the back of Ferdinand's mind — a consequence of being demon-borne.
"Yet," he continued, "like that carp, it is a thirst born from both nature and helplessness. Without these insatiable urges, how could one proclaim themselves a demon?"
"Demons do not fight for righteousness, teacher," Kurian said firmly, voice steady, "For them, the act of violence itself is their only purpose."
His teacher slowly raised his mangled arms, then, with a handless arm, patted Ferdinand on the head and asked quietly, "Why do you fight?"
Ferdinand pondered for a moment, before he found his answer. "Teacher… despite carrying the blood of a demon, I was born weak, incapable of wielding magic."
"I was an entity despised by both my mother and the demons for being an abomination. However, unlike the helpless carp," Ferdinand continued, "I chose to fight against the demons for one reason."
"Why?" his teacher asked.
"I wanted to surround myself with those brave humans," Ferdinand replied, "who, despite being weak, challenged those strong yet cowardly foes. I simply did not want to be a coward who tramples on the weak, for I saw no valor in it."
"Teacher… is this what you call righteousness?" Ferdinand asked.
The teacher, serene and simple in expression, nodded. "Yes."
"Those who rise in the hour of battle, wielding courage over fear, are the mighty ones!" Eden roared, his words cutting through the tense air and searing themselves into the minds of all gathered.
"Valorless, cowardly heathens dare to demand, without thought for the consequences it brings upon us struggling bugs in the dirt!" His voice carried a ferocity few could match—the raw intensity of a true warrior tempered by vision and purpose.
"I am giving you all a choice!" Eden's voice thundered, his chest rising and falling with each deliberate word.
He stepped forward, fists clenched at his sides, eyes blazing as they swept over the assembly. "At this hour, you can fight, or you can abandon the battlefield before you."
"But know this—" He thrust a hand outward, palm open, offering truth itself to each of them. "The fruit of this campaign is not for any of us to claim. What we fight for is the stubbornness of our existence — a declaration to those who sit in lofty thrones."
He leaned slightly forward, fire in his stance mirrored by the passion in his tone. "This battle will bring no tangible benefit… yet it will plant a seed of hope, a spark of prosperity for the struggling ones!"
Eden's gaze hardened, scanning the faces before him, his hand dropping to his side with controlled, tense authority. "So tell me, what will you choose?"
Kurian wanted to forget his past, yet when faced with tyranny that mirrored the demons of his former world, his blood boiled.
Forcing him to remember the old vows: "As a demon borne, I will not deny my nature of inherit carnage, but… my nature of tyranny shall only be directed toward tyranny itself."
With that speech and unwavering conviction, Eden led the most legendary campaign in Solaris III's history, propelling the might of the Information Guild — and the Ghost Hounds that backed it — to a level that posed a genuine multinational threat.
The campaign's influence shook the balance of global factions so profoundly that the mysterious Black Shores were compelled to intervene.
Yet, even they, confronted with the sheer determination and power of these rising titans, could not act unilaterally.
A compromise became necessary, and a treaty was proposed to ease the immense tension the combined might of the Information Guild and the Ghost Hounds had imposed on the world stage.
The leaders of the factions accepted the treaty, and the Information Guild emerged as the world's intelligence hub, and an organization amassing an economic empire controlling a whopping 22% of global wealth.
As for the Ghost Hounds, they rose to become the de facto top dogs of the mercenary world.
"This… was the Eden's gambit."
A storyteller idly sipped his tea in one of Jinzhou's famed establishments — the Panhua Restaurant — recounting the tale to the young listeners gathered around.
In a corner, on a small table, a plate of extra-spicy noodles had been set before a man with short, jet-black hair and piercing, cosmic teal eyes.
"Here's your order, sir," the waitress said, setting the dish before him, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush as she stole glances.
He wore a fitted black t-shirt and dark tactical trousers, a long white coat draped over his chair, its sharp cut and teal trim breaking the monochrome.
Fingerless gloves and faint scars on his arms hinted at a readiness that contradicted the simplicity of eating. Kurian lifted his chopsticks, his expression calm and unreadable.
"Thanks for the meal," he said simply.
As the Iron Hound leisurely ate, on the southern gates of Jinzhou, a young red-haired maiden stretched her arms wide, a bright smile lighting her face.
Clad in a tactical yet boldly rebellious outfit, she radiated energy with every movement as she welcomed the mysterious woman before her: "Welcome to Jinzhou."
To be continued...