It was a night when I was heading toward the syndicate building, roughly wiping the dark red liquid clinging to my hands after finishing a mission.

In the dark alley smelling of damp rot, I suddenly felt a presence. My body reacted first, and my blade pointed toward the spot.

The old streetlight, which had been flickering precariously, finally snapped on at that exact moment.

...A kid?

Looking at the small face revealed under the yellow light, my mind made cold calculations.

I was in a situation where I had to run for my life; I didn't have the luxury of dragging a kid along.

But that resolve didn't last long.

Damn it, how could I turn away when you're looking up at me with those eyes?

That was how I ended up bringing the child to the syndicate. I kept you close like my own, teaching you the laws of the underworld, how to fight, and how to handle weapons one by one.

...Then one day, the child disappeared without a trace.

From the syndicate's perspective, it wasn't a significant position, so the blow wasn't large. The problem was me.

Even in the trivial moments of daily life, I kept thinking of that kid, and I couldn't focus on work at all just because the seat next to me was empty.

But now, someone I suspect to be that kid has broken into the syndicate building.

...Guest?