Orlando slept straight through until the next morning, feeling much better.
He washed up, hung the wooden sword back at his waist, pushed open the door, and headed for the dining hall to grab something to eat.
His mind was still turning over what Hui had said yesterday—the Sky Barrier, the Angel Tribe, the origin relocated to Holy Radiance City, and the ruins left behind on the outer continent.
At least now he knew which direction to search.
He didn’t have to stumble around like a headless fly across the whole continent.
He needed to plan to get there in the next few days.
His stomach growled, pulling him out of his thoughts.
‘Eat first. I’ll figure out the rest when I’m awake.’
He dragged his feet along the corridor toward the staircase, still half-asleep.
The hallway was dim, with only a sliver of morning light coming through the window at the end.
The floorboards creaked faintly under his steps.
Then a voice sounded from behind him.
“Oh—”
The tone was drawn out, dripping with sarcasm.
Like someone had mixed honey and chili sauce—sweet, but with a sting.
“So you’re the newbie, huh?”
Orlando’s steps halted.
He turned around.
A figure was leaning against the wall in the shadow of the corridor.
One leg was bent, foot pressed against the wall, while the other leg loosely supported her weight.
Her arms were crossed over her chest.
Short white hair glowed with a faint gray tint in the shadows.
The tips of her hair had a dark red hue—like something had stained them and never washed out, or like she’d deliberately dyed them that way.
Her red pupils were fixed on him.
That look—two kinds of people had it: those who had killed a lot, and those who had seen a lot of death.
She clearly belonged to the former.
Orlando felt a slight chill run down his spine under her red-eyed gaze.
He was sure he’d never met this person before.
Since signing the contract yesterday, he’d only seen Hui and Prunier in the Red Sun Company’s base.
This white-haired, red-eyed woman—he was seeing her for the first time.
But the way she looked at him, it was like she’d known him for a long time.
“Uh…”
Orlando opened his mouth.
“What’s your—”
“The name’s not important.”
She cut him off, her voice lazy, like she’d just woken up from a nap and still carried a hint of lingering drowsiness.
But her gaze wasn’t drowsy at all.
Her red pupils swept over him from head to toe.
That look was like a dull knife—it couldn’t cut through skin, but the scraping still hurt.
“What matters is—”
She took her foot off the wall and stood straight.
She was barely over five-foot-three, nearly a head shorter than Orlando.
But when she looked up at him, her posture made it seem like she was two heads taller.
“Is whether you, the Dragonslayer,”
She enunciated those five words clearly, each one squeezed out between her teeth.
“can cooperate with me, a mercenary.”
Orlando’s pupils contracted slightly.
She knew he was a Dragonslayer.
When Prunier had exposed his identity in the hallway yesterday, only he and the captain had been present.
Hui might have known—Hui knew everything.
But this woman—where had she heard it?
Had the captain told her?
Hui told her?
Or had she been nearby while he and Prunier hadn’t noticed?
He looked her over.
That slouching stance.
That faint, mocking smile at the corner of her mouth.
Those red eyes that made his skin crawl.
Everything about her gave off an unsettling vibe.
“Uh…”
“It should be fine.”
The white-haired woman stared at him for three seconds.
During those three seconds, her expression didn’t change—her lips still curled up, her red eyes still unblinking.
But Orlando felt like she was laughing—not a laugh on her face, but a laugh buried in her throat, unvoiced.
“Alright.”
She looked away, like she’d just finished appraising a cheap piece of merchandise and given it a polite evaluation.
Footsteps sounded from the other end of the corridor.
This time, there was noise.
Hui walked up from the staircase, wearing a dark long coat, his hair split black and white, holding a file folder in his hand.
He saw the two people standing in the hallway, paused briefly, then continued walking over.
“Sir.”
He gave Orlando a slight nod, then shifted his gaze to the white-haired woman.
“You’ve already met.”
“Just now.”
The white-haired woman shrugged.
“Dumber than I expected.”
Orlando: “…”
Hui didn’t take the bait.
He tucked the folder under his arm and turned to Orlando.
“Sir, this is your teammate.”
Orlando instantly felt like he might be in trouble.
Teammate.
Teammate with this sarcastic white-haired woman.
He’d rather be teammates with that white-haired little girl who couldn’t even finish someone off—at least that kid passed out after biting people, and wouldn’t stare at him with that bone-chilling look.
“You two will be carrying out the company’s assigned tasks together from now on,” Hui continued, his tone flat, like he was reading a menu.
“The captain will arrange the specifics later.”
The white-haired woman tilted her head, her white hair sliding past the corner of her eye.
“Got it.”
She dropped her arms from her chest and shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket.
“Just a greenhorn.”
She turned and took two steps toward the staircase.
The hem of her tactical jacket swayed gently with each step.
As she passed by Orlando, her shoulder almost brushed against his arm.
“Don’t hold me back.”
Her voice drifted over her shoulder, light and dismissive.
Then she headed down the stairs.
Her footsteps echoed one by one on the wooden steps, growing fainter.
Orlando stood there, watching the dark gray figure disappear around the stairwell corner.
The white hair flickered once more, then vanished.
He took a deep breath.
‘I used to deal with dragons every day.’
‘I’ve met the Silver Dragon Queen face-to-face, watched the Blue Dragon King’s son get beaten right in front of me, shattered the elven elder’s crystal ball, and the God of Love is still living inside me rent-free.’
‘And I’m supposed to be scared of a little girl like you?’
He gripped the wooden sword at his waist.
The touch of the black ironwood was hard and reassuring.
Hui waited beside him until his inner monologue ended before speaking.
“Sir?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you have any questions?”
“…No.”
“Perhaps so.”
Hui’s tone was utterly calm.
“But there’s something I need to remind you about.”
He pulled a sheet of paper from the folder and handed it to Orlando.
It was a mission brief.
In the “task executors” column, two names were written: Wei, and Orlando.
Wei.
“Also.”
Hui clipped the folder shut again.
“The captain asked me to pass along a message.”
“What message?”
“Tell Wei not to bomb things like last time.”
Orlando’s eye twitched.
Bomb.
That word, combined together, conjured up some unpleasant images in his mind.
A white-haired, red-eyed woman, laughing, with the glow of an explosion behind her.
That image was strangely vivid, as if he’d seen it with his own eyes.
“What did she blow up before?”