**Prologue: The Sorting**
The training grounds buzzed with nervous energy as Instructor Bel's holographic clipboard flickered to life.
*"Group assignments,"* she announced, her voice carrying across the field. *"Report your teams and leaders for official records."*
**Reyna** of the Feylon contingent stepped forward first, her burgundy ponytail swaying. *"Team Feylon—four members. I'll be leading."* She fshed a victorious grin at Irene, who scowled in response.
Irene von Eldrich pushed past her followers, silk training jacket fring dramatically. *"Team Akartay! Myself as leader, with Naya, Jack, and—"* She paused, batting her shes at Qin Hong. *"—Qin Hong, of course~"*
Qin Hong nearly choked. *"Since when?!"*
Irene csped her hands, adopting a saccharine pout. *"Don't be cruel! You wouldn't abandon me to that *useless* Fritt, would you?"* Behind her, the aforementioned bodyguard whimpered like a kicked puppy.
Before Qin Hong could refuse, **Haruko** cut in—cold, precise:
*"Team Wenors. Four members. I lead."*
The temperature seemed to drop ten degrees. Irene's porcein cheeks flushed crimson, her manicured nails digging into Fritt's arm.
Bel's holographic pen scribbled notes. *"No objections? Good. Three regions, three teams—efficient."*
Fritt exhaled in relief; Irene looked ready to murder someone. Preferably everyone.
---
### **Part 1: The Ghost of Akartay Past**
The northern dormitories were everything Waltho promised—spacious, airy, with windows framing the Yeena River like living paintings. Qin Hong's room, **N523**, stopped him in his tracks.
*"This yout..."*
It mirrored his Wenors vil *exactly*—the antique oak desk, the leather chair, even the positioning of the wardrobe. Only the painting above the firepce differed: a gothic manor shrouded in mist, its windows glinting with eerie familiarity.
*"Beautiful, isn't it?"*
The voice came from **inside the frame**. Qin Hong yelped as Madame Fatty's eyes materialized in the painting's lower corner.
*"Sorry, dear!"* She giggled, adjusting her spectacles. *"This was Guann's old room during training. I just *had* to check on you!"*
Before he could ask questions, she vanished—leaving Qin Hong alone with the training uniform id on the bed.
**Bck-gold jacket.** Silver castle emblem. Silk-gray trousers that flowed like liquid.
He changed quickly, admiring the fit in the floor-length mirror—
—just as Waltho and Merkel barged in.
*"Damn, Wenors!"* Waltho whistled, slinging an arm around Qin Hong's shoulders. *"That jacket's begging for a Vedon Arms patch."*
Merkel nodded toward the door. *"Haruko's waiting. And she looks... different."*
Different was an understatement.
Haruko's inverse uniform—**silver-white with gold accents**—hugged her frame lethally. The bck tactical leggings and knee-high boots completed the ensemble.
*"What?"* She arched a brow at Qin Hong's stare. *"See something interesting?"*
Waltho snorted. *"He's *short-circuiting*."*
---
### **Part 2: Banquets and Battle Lines**
The second-floor dining hall was a culinary crossroads—ten stations serving dishes from all three regions, all automated. No staff. No prices.
*"200 credits monthly,"* Haruko expined, loading her tray with sushi. *"Deducted whether you eat or not."*
Qin Hong's chopsticks froze. *"T-Two hundred?! That's half a week's—"*
Three pairs of eyes locked onto him.
*"I mean!"* He coughed. *"What a... reasonable fee!"*
Waltho ughed, producing velvet boxes from his bag. *"Gifts! Limited-edition Vedon tech."*
Qin Hong's **bck-jade earpiece** hummed to life, projecting a holographic HUD. Merkel and Haruko received sleek wrist-comms—**frost-white with encrypted channels**.
*"Now,"* Haruko said, slicing her tuna roll, *"my turn to expin."*
She recounted the **cherries incident**—how eating a seemingly innocent fruit led to You Hang's recruitment pitch.
*"Wait."* Qin Hong gaped. *"So your 'transfer' was—"*
*"A cover,"* she admitted. *"I didn't know if you were friend or foe."*
Their moment shattered as a honeyed voice interjected:
*"Mind if we join?"*
**Yanis** of Team Feylon stood there, fnked by her trio of lethal beauties. Before Qin Hong could stammer a reply, Irene's screech cut through the hall:
*"MOVE, YANIS! THAT SEAT'S MINE!"*
Fritt cracked his knuckles. Reyna flipped a dagger between her fingers. The dining hall became a powder keg.
Qin Hong stood to leave—
—only for **Naya** to block his path, her smile venomous.
*"Leaving so soon?"* She trailed a finger down his chest. *"From today, you're *our* dog. Refuse, and..."*
Jack and Fritt closed in.
Haruko's hand flew to her hip holster. Waltho's fingers twitched toward his hidden arsenal. Merkel paled.
Qin Hong *smiled*.
*"'Freeze.'"*
