The Velvet Lounge was not a place anyone could just enter.
Located on the border between the safe, Hunter-owned Inner City and the chaotic Hoven, where the poor eat the poor, it was a glowing club of black glass and neon-violet lighting.
It screamed expensive and exclusive. It acted as a substitute for wealth.
'That place indirectly tells him that if someone wearing a hoodie and messy hair tried to enter, he would be killed on sight.'
Julien stood across the street, adjusting his clothes.
He looked less like an S-rank hunter and more like a dog that had been hit by a car.
[Debt Alert]
Time Remaining: 3 Hours, 45 Minutes.
Heart Status: Beating fast.
"Okay," Julien muttered, smoothing down his hair with his good hand. "Showtime."
He crossed the street, dodging a sleek, mana-powered car that sounded like a sleeping beast.
The line for the club was long, filled with B-Rank hunters showing off their amazing gear and merchants wearing suits that cost more than Julien's entire life savings.
He did not wait in line, going straight for the VIP entrance.
Confidence is the key to success. It was all about confidence, no matter how pathetic he looked.
He stepped up to the velvet rope, carefully avoiding the steel stanchion beside it.
A shadow loomed over him.
The bouncer was a hulk of a man, likely a hunter with Tank-class ability. His neck was wider than Julien's waist, and his arms were crossed over a chest that looked like a barrel of oil.
He wore a headset and an expression that suggested he ate F-Rankers for protein and gains.
[Target Analysis: The Bouncer] Class: Guardian (Rank C). Strength: 45. Patience: 2%. Weakness: None at the moment. Do not engage at any cost.
The bouncer looked down. His eyes scanned Julien's dusty sneakers, the torn jeans, the sling, and finally, the desperate plea in his eyes.
"Delivery entrance is in the back, kid," the bouncer rumbled. His voice vibrated in Julien's chest.
"I'm not here for a delivery," Julien said, deepening his voice to what he hoped sounded authoritative, but it sounded mostly like he had a sore throat.
"I'm here for the party."
The bouncer raised a single, thick eyebrow. "The 'Hunters & High-Rollers' party?"
"Yes."
"The one with a five-thousand credit cover charge?"
"I... I have the necessary assets to liquidate inside."
The bouncer didn't even blink. He just pointed his pipe-like finger at a sign on the wall that looked like eligibility criteria.
[CLUB RULES] No Weapons (Unless you have permission).
No S-Rank Magic inside for showing off.
Strictly NO Unaccompanied Males under Rank B. (Management reserves the right to deny entry to anyone who looks like they might steal their plates and cups.)
'Definitely not me.'
"Unaccompanied?" Julien squeaked.
"Too many desperate hunters coming in here trying to beg for a chance to party," the bouncer grunted, crossing his arms again. "Unless you have a B-Rank badge or a lady on your arm, you're blocking the way. Move it."
Julien stood his ground for a second, his brain scrambling. "What if I told you I have a business proposition that would-"
The bouncer took one heavy step forward.
[Streetwise Alert: Imminent physical threat detected. Probability of broken ribs: 99%.]
'Why is the 1% not included?'
"Okay, okay, I'm getting my ass outta here!" Julien backed away, hands up in surrender.
He retreated to the shadow of a nearby alley, leaning against the brick wall, thinking about what to do.
"Damn it!" he wheezed, kicking a small stone. "I have SSS-grade items in my pocket, and I can't even get past the door because I'm single?"
He checked the timer.
3 Hours, 30 Minutes.
It wasn't like he could just go back and fight that guy. He already looked like someone who hadn't had breakfast yet.
"System," he whispered. "I need a partner, preferably a woman. Please scan the area and find someone suitable."
[Streetwise Active.]
Julien's vision slowly changed. The world turned into a glitch of data, as you see in movies about hackers.
He scanned the line of people waiting to get in.
He looked at a woman in a red dress, laughing loudly like she just heard the best joke ever.
[Target: Gold Digger (Rank F). Looking for a sugar daddy. Will demand 500 credits upfront. Liability: High.]
'I'm barely a man. Can't be a daddy yet.'
He scanned a female hunter polishing a dagger.
[Target: Berserker (Rank C). Currently drunk. 60% chance of starting a bar fight within 10 minutes.]
'Why are women more problematic here?'
He scanned a nervous-looking girl clutching a resume.
[Target: Healer (Rank E). Desperate for a job. Will surely cling to you and cry about her situation.]
"Fucking useless. Everyone here is useless," Julien groaned.
He needed someone who looked the part. Someone who exhibited elegance and 'High Class' so loudly that the bouncer wouldn't dare check Julien's ID.
Then, he landed on her.
She was standing away from the line, leaning against the railing of the bridge that was above the river.
She was... different.
She wore a long, black trench coat that looked like it was woven from shadows.
Underneath, hints of silver armour caught the light. Her hair was a cascade of darkness, and she was looking at the moon with an expression of utter, incredible boredom.
It wasn't just that she was beautiful—though she was, in a terrifying, sharp-edged way. It was the air around her. The crowd instinctively gave her a three-foot radius of personal space without even realising why.
"Her," Julien whispered.
He focused [Streetwise] on her.
The System buzzed.
[Target Analysis...] [Processing...] [Error.] [Error.] [Target: Human Female(?)] [Rank: ???] [Threat Level: FATAL.] [Streetwise Recommendation: RUN AND HIDE. DO NOT MAKE EYE CONTACT.]
Julien blinked. "Fatal?"
The text was flashing red. Usually, the System gave him stats of other hunters. For her, it just gave him a warning.
"She must be a high-ranking assassin," Julien theorised, his heart doing a nervous flip. "Or maybe a disguised A-Ranker. If she's that dangerous, the bouncer won't stop her."
He started planning a dangerous gamble.
But he was a merchant, and any merchant without taking a risk isn't fit to be one.
"Fix your face, Julien," he slapped his cheeks. "You're not a beggar. You're an opportunist."
He walked over to the bridge.
The woman didn't turn around as he approached. She didn't even flinch or sense his presence.
She simply continued staring at the moon, looking like she was contemplating murder or thinking about writing a poem.
"The moon looks nice," Julien said, his voice cracking slightly on the 'nice'. "But the view inside is probably better."
The woman slowly turned her head.
Her eyes were silver. Like liquid silver.
They glowed with a faint, internal brightness. When she looked at him, Julien felt like he had just been placed under an X-ray machine by a doctor analysing a patient.
"You are..." Her voice was rhythmic, cool, and utterly indifferent. "Very weak. Why are you talking to me?"
"Because you're bored," Julien said.
It was a guess, but [Streetwise] confirmed it.
[Insight: Target is experiencing extreme dissatisfaction. Boredom level: 99%.]