Fenrir stepped into his apartment, letting the door swing shut behind him with a soft click.
The moment he was alone, the exhaustion of the day weighed heavier on his shoulders.
He moved like clockwork—boots off, coat hung, a drink poured and left untouched on the desk as he sat in front of his computer and began to type.
'Julie Dane.'
A quick search gave him all the surface-level data: eldest daughter of the Dane family, once aristocrats of the hunter world.
Their downfall had come in the early days of dungeon expansion, when a crack formed in one of their managed gates.
Hundreds had died, including her father, and the Dane family had been stripped of their power and fortune almost overnight.
Julie had clawed her way back to relevance on sheer strength and strategic genius, building the Secret Hunter Services from the ground up.
"Impressive. But also incredibly… clean."
Fenrir muttered, scrolling through the rest of the files.
