The next morning, Taesung woke before his alarm.
No dreams. No noise. Just a feeling like the air was waiting for something.
He didn't check his messages. Didn't scroll. Just got dressed, layered two shirts under his jacket, and headed out while the sun was still clawing its way past the buildings.
He didn't go to the Rift warehouse.
Not today.
Instead, he took the train four stops past his usual and walked the rest of the way. It was colder in this part of the city. Wind always worse near the river. He passed a row of shuttered buildings, the kind that hadn't been touched since the first waves of Rifts ten years ago.
Then he saw it.
A plain building, glass front, metal sign above the door: Graylight Guild — Branch Office.
Not one of the big names.
But not unknown either.
They weren't famous. They weren't flashy. But they had a record. Clean raids. Steady income. No black marks.
He'd done his research last night.
He pushed open the door.
Inside was warm. Too warm. The heater rattled like it was having an argument with itself.
A receptionist looked up from her tablet. She was older than him, eyes sharp, hair dyed a deep burgundy that didn't match the bland gray walls.
"You here for admin or application?" she asked without blinking.
Taesung cleared his throat. "Support team. Salvage detail."
"You've done work before?"
"Warehouse Rift cleanup. Two nights. Entry-level."
She tapped her screen. "Name?"
He gave it.
She typed it in, then leaned back and gave him a once-over. Not unkind, but clinical.
"You don't look like much."
"I'm not."
She smiled slightly. "At least you're honest. Wait there."
He sat. Ten minutes passed.
Then a door opened to the left, and a man stepped out.
Tall. Built like someone who had stopped lifting for a while but used to do it seriously. His eyes were tired but focused.
"Yoon Taesung?"
Taesung stood. "Yeah."
"I'm Min Jisoo. Logistics lead. Walk with me."
They walked down a narrow hallway into what looked like a small briefing room. Whiteboard, outdated map, broken vending machine in the corner.
Jisoo leaned against the table. "So. You want to join salvage?"
Taesung nodded.
"It's not hunting," Jisoo said. "But it's still inside the zone. Rifts don't always stay quiet. Residual echoes. Fragment beasts. The shit Hunters leave behind because it's not worth their energy."
"I understand."
"You get paid per haul. No base salary. Hazard pay only if you survive the hazard."
"Okay."
"You don't get armor. You don't get a name tag. And if you die, your cut goes to the guy who drags your body out."
Taesung didn't flinch.
Jisoo looked at him, longer this time.
"What's your rank?"
"C."
"No sub-skill listed?"
"Null Read."
Jisoo blinked. "System couldn't assign you?"
Taesung shook his head.
Jisoo muttered something under his breath.
"You want advice?"
"Sure."
"Stay support. Keep your gloves on. Don't stare too long at anything still twitching. And if someone goes quiet beside you don't call out. Just move."
Taesung nodded.
Jisoo stood, offered a hand. "Tryout's tomorrow. We meet at 6 AM. Don't be late."
Taesung took the handshake. It wasn't warm, but it was solid.
That night, he found himself back on the rooftop.
Same broken chair. Same view of the train tracks.
This time, Harin wasn't waiting.
He brought his own silence.
He watched the dark shift between buildings. Watched the lights blink red, yellow, green, like the city was trying to keep time but kept forgetting what came next.
He didn't know what tomorrow would feel like.
But he knew what he wouldn't do.
He wouldn't panic.
He wouldn't show off.
And he wouldn't speak if something started to move where silence used to be.
Because maybe that was the thing no one told you.
Maybe real power wasn't loud.
Maybe it was the kind of thing that grew slowly, buried deep, waiting for the right moment.
And maybe some names weren't shouted.
Maybe some names went quiet first.
Until it was time