He Chen Guan

White Tiger sat at the table near the back, a bowl of noodles in front of him, chopsticks stuck into the bowl but barely touched.

Today he wore a dark blue jacket, his hair combed back, looking a little more formal than yesterday.

Only a little, though. Still, it was a big improvement over that flashy floral shirt—his fashion sense was making progress.

Chen Guan pushed open the glass door of the noodle shop and walked in. There were no other customers. The owner was clattering dishes in the back kitchen.

"Right on time." White Tiger lifted his chin, signaling for him to sit across.

Chen Guan pulled out a plastic stool, its legs scraping against the floor with a short screech. Luckily, he had set his coffin aside.

"Want some noodles?" White Tiger asked.

"Already ate."

"So you're just going to sit here watching me eat?"

"You haven't eaten much either."

White Tiger glanced down at his almost untouched bowl, let out a chuckle, and set the chopsticks down.

"Fine, I'll drop the act. The noodles really aren't anything special."

He pulled out a kraft paper file folder, placed it on the table, and slid it over to Chen Guan with two fingers.

"Take a look."

Chen Guan picked it up and opened it.

Inside was a personnel file.

The photo looked a lot like him, but the name was different.

He Chenguan, male, twenty-two years old.

The occupation field was filled in as "Free Hunter," and the ability type column read "Summoning."

Chen Guan flipped to the second page.

The resume was forged, but meticulously so—from birthplace to education history to activity records for the past three years, every entry had corresponding background support. Chen Guan even thought the details were rich enough to withstand a background check.

He placed the file back on the table.

"He Chenguan. What do you think of the name?"

Chen Guan maintained his usual calm demeanor. "Mediocre."

"Don't sweat the small stuff." White Tiger leaned back in his chair, arms draped over the backrest. "Focus on the resume."

Chen Guan flipped back to the second page and read through the resume again.

The birthplace was listed as a small town on the southwestern border. Parents died early. After awakening his ability, he never attended any official academy, making a living by taking odd jobs across the region with a single contracted beast.

His background was tragic enough, clean enough—not branded by any organization.

People like that were too common in the gray world. One more or less made no difference. The perfect type to fly under the radar.

"You write the resume yourself?" Chen Guan asked.

"The framework is mine. I had someone else fill in the details." White Tiger picked up the chopsticks, swirled them around in the noodles, then set them down again. "If you dig deep, there really is a person named He Chenguan in the southwest. All the household registration files are there. But the guy himself went missing three years ago, and he's never been deregistered."

"Dead?"

"No idea. Maybe dead, maybe holed up in some corner somewhere." White Tiger shrugged. "Point is, no one's using that identity right now. No one's looking for it either. Slipping it onto you is a perfect fit."

Chen Guan closed the file and placed it back inside the folder.

Even just these materials showed how much effort White Tiger had put in. It was clear he valued this mission.

"The entry point?"

"What's the rush? I'm not done yet." White Tiger leaned back, crossing his legs.

The shop was still empty. The sounds of washing dishes from the back kitchen had stopped. The owner had slipped out the back door at some point, leaving just the two of them in the whole place.

"The New Circus's operational base in Rustport—I've only managed to narrow it down to a general area."

White Tiger reached out and traced a rough shape on the table.

"The old docks in Rustport's eastern district. There's an abandoned warehouse complex there, maybe a dozen or so old buildings. It's a maze of chaos—all kinds of people."

"Smugglers?"

"Smugglers, fugitives, people stashing stolen goods, and a few low-tier gangs nesting there. The New Circus isn't stupid. They set up shop in a place like that, blending in with all the garbage and scum. Anyone trying to find them might as well be searching for a needle in a haystack."

"Then how did you find out?"

White Tiger looked at him and smirked.

"Take a guess."

"Not going to."

White Tiger's smile faded halfway. He let out a sigh.

"You really have zero team spirit."

He pulled another piece of paper from his pocket, unfolded it. It was a crude map with a few locations marked.

"Old docks, eastern Rustport. Warehouse Cluster 13."

His finger tapped one spot on the map.

"The New Circus is hiring."

Chen Guan stared at the map. It was drawn terribly.

"Hiring for what?"

"Day laborers," White Tiger said. "The New Circus's current operation is nothing like the old days. Back when the old man was in charge, it was a lean operation—just over a dozen people, each one handpicked. No dead weight allowed.

"The current crew runs it differently. Only a handful of core members. The rest are all recruited as temporary workers. One job, one payout. Use them and toss them."

"Outsourcing?"

"You could put it that way." White Tiger didn't deny it. "Most of these temps have no idea who they're working for. They just know someone's paying, they finish the job, and they collect the cash. They don't ask questions. If they do, no one answers."

Chen Guan took the map and glanced at the markings.

"You want me to go in as He Chenguan and apply for a temp job?"

"Exactly."

"Then work my way in from the outside."

"Right." White Tiger held up two fingers.

"One mission."

He raised the first finger.

"Get in."

"That's it?"

"That's it." White Tiger nodded. He hadn't planned on giving Chen Guan anything complicated. That was for the adults to handle. Chen Guan might be talented, but he was still just a student.

He stood up, his chair legs scraping the floor with a short screech.

"That's all I need to cover. Now let's talk about your travel plans."

White Tiger's tone became brisk and efficient again.

"Tomorrow morning at six. Use the He Chenguan ID. The credentials and ticket are in the envelope—look through it when you get home."

White Tiger had clearly arranged everything.

"Then what, when I get to Rustport?"

"Get off at the station. Head east. Take a bus to the eastern docks. Get off and walk north along the coastline for about fifteen minutes. You'll see the entrance to Warehouse Cluster 13."

White Tiger pulled a card from his pocket, stamped with a simple pattern—a jester's cap.

"The New Circus's contact signal for hiring temps." He slid the card across the table. "When you get to the warehouse area, find a shop called Ah Dong's Hardware. Show this to the owner. He'll take you to the right people."

Chen Guan picked up the card. The front had only the jester cap pattern. The back was blank, no text.

"How did you get this thing?"

"Don't ask about the channels." White Tiger clapped his hands. "Anyway, once you walk through that door, you're He Chenguan. Free hunter, ordinary ability user scraping by with a contracted beast. Remember that one thing."

He walked around to Chen Guan's side, bent down until their eyes were level.

"Don't show off. Don't meddle. Don't expose anything from the Guiyuan Group."

"Got it."

"We can use the leopard, but try not to let it show too much of its power. Its merged state is way too conspicuous out there. Space abilities are too overpowered."

White Tiger seemed to suddenly remember something and shook his head with a sigh.