With Reelo still groaning faintly, tangled in his rope cocoon near the guild’s main entrance, and the last sliver of sun sinking beneath the horizon, Eluviel guided Sandra and Rydan through the quiet guild hall. The bustle of daytime had faded to a low hum of closing rituals and whispered goodbyes. Lanterns flickered softly, casting warm pools of light on the polished wooden floors, while faint shadows stretched along the walls.

Eluviel led them past the front desk, where a sleepy-looking potted plant leaned toward the dim light, and slipped open a heavy door tucked behind the counter. The storage chambers were a cool sanctuary away from the salty sea air and the day’s chaos. Inside, a shimmering box pulsed softly, its surface swirling with magic-infused mist. The faint glow of runes traced delicate patterns along its edges, promising preservation and protection.

Sandra lingered by the icebox, her hand brushing the rough fabric of the clam sack as if laying a cherished creature to rest. The box hissed quietly as Eluviel closed and sealed it, the cold mist swirling gently inside like a living breath, holding their precious haul safe through the night.

Rydan stayed near the doorway, pausing with one foot just inside the storage room, his ears catching faint groans and whimpers from the tied-up thief sprawled just outside in the hall near the guild’s entrance. He took a deep breath and shifted his attention back to the sealed icebox. The quiet tension of the evening settled around them—a brief pause before whatever came next.

“I’ll log it for the client in the morning,” Eluviel said cheerfully from behind the counter, already heading back toward the lobby. “Try not to lose sleep over the slight price drop.”

Sandra didn’t answer. Her eyes stayed locked on the small bag of coins in her hand.

A moment later, the three of them stood again in the guild’s main lobby. The clams were stored, the thief still tied up near the entrance, and the tension slowly starting to ease. Rydan leaned against a nearby pillar, arms crossed and his usual lazy smile returning.

“So… what do we do with him?” he asked, jerking a thumb toward the entrance where Reelo still lay bound. “Turn him in tomorrow? Dump him in the lost and found? He might also need some first aid.”

Sandra shrugged, unconcerned, as she wiped sand from her shoulder.

Rydan chuckled. “Yeah, not our problem anymore, huh?”

Then, with a rare seriousness in his voice, he added, “You know, we actually make a good team.”

Sandra looked at him, one eye just barely visible through the fringe of her hair, caught in a lazy breeze drifting in from the open window.

“I mean it,” he continued. “You handled yourself like a pro. That sand ball from above? Beautiful. I haven’t had this much fun since... well, a long time.”

She tilted her head slightly, curious but quiet.

Rydan straightened and held out a hand. “So—how about it? Let’s make it official. Form a party. You and me, chasing quests, splitting loot, dodging angry mollusks.”

Sandra’s eyes glinted for a moment—playful, almost warm.
Then, without warning, the light vanished. Her gaze turned flat, unreadable.

“I’m done being an adventurer,” she said, clenching the small pouch of coins she’d earned earlier. “I’m going home.”

Rydan froze, words abandoning him.

Everything that had just happened—every laugh, every moment—it all cracked, felt hollow. Like it hadn’t meant anything at all.

***

From her perch behind the guild counter, Eluviel watched the scene unfold like her favorite kind of late-night drama. She didn’t even try to hide the way her chin rested on both palms, elbows digging into the wood, eyes glinting with mischief.

If only she had snacks. Some sea-salted kelp crisps, maybe a fizzy drink. Then it would be perfect.

She sighed. “Now kiss,” she whispered under her breath, half-joking, half-hopeful.

But then—something off-script hit her ears.
"I’m done being an adventurer. I’m going home.”

Eluviel blinked.
‘Wait—what?’

As if that wasn’t enough, a follow-up landed like a second slap.
“I'll be going now. I need to look for the Jackal.”

Rydan's outstretched hand, meant for a handshake or maybe just a quiet acknowledgement, hung in the air like a frozen gesture on stage. Sandra had already turned her back, her voice firm, her direction clear.
She was leaving.

Rydan didn’t respond—his usual quips nowhere to be found. His expression wasn’t hurt, exactly... just quiet. As if even he couldn’t find the right words this time.

Eluviel sat up straighter, her ears twitching.
‘Jackal?’

A beat passed. Then she clapped her hands together in realization.
“Wait—you mean our only S-rank Jackal?” she blurted, completely forgetting she wasn’t supposed to break the fourth wall.

Both Rydan and Sandra turned to look at her in sync, like a pair of confused actors caught off-cue.
She froze.

“…What?” Eluviel said, blinking. “Don’t look at me like that. You said Jackal!”

***

“Ahem,” Eluviel cleared her throat, straightening up behind the counter like she hadn’t just been eavesdropping on the juiciest guild drama of the season.

“Well,” she said, folding her arms and tapping a finger to her chin. “Are you sure you want to hear this now? It’s kind of late, you know. We could always continue this tomorrow…”

That was rich, even by her standards. She’d been more than ready to work unpaid overtime just minutes ago, as long as the drama kept flowing. But now that things had taken a turn for the serious—and uncomfortable—she felt the weight of the hour creeping back onto her shoulders.

Sandra wasn’t having it.

Her hands came down hard on the counter, startling even the sleepy-looking potted plant nearby. Eluviel winced.

“I see,” she muttered. “No delays then.”

With a sigh worthy of a tragedy heroine, Eluviel threw up her hands. “Fine, fine! But I’m keeping it short. I’m not a fan of actual overtime, after all.” She offered a lopsided smile, trying to soften the mood.

“Jackal,” she began, letting the name hang in the air for a moment, “is the guild’s only S-rank adventurer. He takes solo missions—the dangerous kind. Political assassinations, cursed ruins, monster territories no one else wants to touch.”

She leaned forward slightly, lowering her voice like she was telling a ghost story.

“Clad in black from head to toe. No one knows what he really looks like. No one even knows if ‘Jackal’ is his real name. It’s probably just an alias.”

Rydan blinked, brow furrowing. “Wait, are you serious? I thought Jackal was just a myth.”

Eluviel smirked and waggled her finger. “That’s because most of the quests he takes last months—sometimes years. He comes and goes like smoke. No fanfare. No announcements.”

“And now you’re sounding old,” Rydan said.

She squinted at him, pouting. “That’s rude, you know. I’m an elf.”

He gave her a sheepish grin, but Sandra wasn’t listening.

She stood there, lost in her own thoughts, her face unreadable beneath the curtain of black bangs. But Eluviel caught the subtle shift in her gaze—focused, measuring.

‘Clad in black’, Sandra echoed silently.

“I’ll wait for him, then,” she said, her voice even.

Eluviel raised an eyebrow, and when she glanced at Rydan, she caught it—his eyes lit up like someone had just handed him a second chance.

‘Oh.’

‘Oh-ho-ho.’

She stifled a grin and leaned in, whispering just loud enough. “You can ask her again.”

“But—” he started, clearly unsure, but she was already pushing him forward with both hands.

He stumbled a step, landing awkwardly in front of Sandra.

She looked up, unimpressed. “What.”

“Ah—uhm.” He scratched the back of his neck. “How about... we form a temporary party? Just while you’re waiting. Only if you’re okay with that, of course.”

Sandra tilted her head slightly, like she was considering whether or not to end him on the spot.

Then—just for a second—a smile broke across her lips. Not her usual deadpan or faint amusement. No, this one had teeth.

“Fine,” she said. “But I’m naming the party.”

Rydan didn’t even hesitate. “Deal.”

She pointed at him. “With an Idiot.”

The poor boy froze.

“What,” he croaked.

Eluviel was already scribbling on a party registration form, humming with delight. “And that’s official! Congratulations on forming your new temporary party: With an Idiot.”

Rydan slumped. “Seriously?”

But he was smiling. A real one this time—quiet, a little goofy, and far too soft for a guy who’d just been insulted to his face.

Eluviel rested her cheek against one hand and watched the two of them. Her eyes sparkled.

“Drama and romance,” she murmured. “This guild really is paradise.”