Sapporo Suburb.
A bustling shooting range frequented by Food Mercenaries.
"Bang!"
"Bang!"
Two successive gunshots.
Jintan Shun put down his handgun, looked at the bullet hole in the middle of the target ahead, and smiled.
Clap, clap, clap—the sound of applause came from a female mercenary clad in a grey-black tank top and brown capris, her blonde hair and foreign looks drawing attention. She lowered her gun and rasped with a neutral, magnetic voice, "Jintan Shun, you vanished for ten years, yet your shooting hasn't slipped a bit. Should I congratulate you, or should I continue to see you as a threat?"
"Cut it out!" spat Jintan Shun. "Tulip, aren't you just worrying about my ranking? Have it, have it—the International Eighth Rank Food Hunter spot. Those empty titles bring no real benefits, just trouble!"
The code-named Tulip mercenary, her face both handsome and beautiful, carried a serene smile.
