Start with a Hammer, End with Five Beast Husbands

A Midnight Visitor

I sighed along with her, propping my face up with both hands as I stared at the table.

If it were just about having money, that wouldn’t be a problem.

The problem was the string of zeros in my account.

I could see it—but I couldn’t touch it. That was the real killer.

By the time we left the restaurant, it was already deep into the night.

Walking beside me, Sera suddenly spoke—

“Ash… want to keep teaming up with us from now on?”

There was a hint of anticipation in her voice.

I barely hesitated. “Okay.”

At this point, it was clear—the fastest way to make money was fighting team matches in the underground arena. I’d have to go back, no question. Otherwise, there was no way I could ever come up with that 200,000 in tuition.

We exchanged comm IDs, and she and Jax headed off down another street.

I stayed where I was, not moving. Just now, I’d been sprinting like crazy with Caedmon chasing me, running on pure instinct—darting left and right without even paying attention to where I was going. Now that I’d calmed down and thought it through…

I’d probably ended up in a completely different part of Null Terra.

It was nothing like the place I’d been before.

The area I used to hunt in was a wreck—basically a deserted junkyard. I’d assumed the whole planet was like that.

Turns out, I was wrong.

This place was blazing with lights, packed with people, neon signs flashing so brightly they almost hurt your eyes.

Underground arenas, black markets, restaurants, info hubs… it had everything.

Hidden in plain sight.

I stood at the intersection, looking at this chaotic yet vibrant district, and made up my mind—I wasn’t going back. I’d stay here.

I turned and started walking.

I lifted my hand and pulled up my comm device, ready to find the cheapest, most low-profile place to crash.

The interface had just loaded when my eyes caught the friend requests.

At the top were Sera and Jax. I smiled and accepted.

Then I scrolled down.

My smile froze.

Five more requests.

Each name was more jarring than the last.

Cassian Virex

Caedmon Thorne

Ilyas Serin

Aeron Vale

Ragnar Pyros

How did they get my comm ID?

The thought had barely surfaced before I shut it down myself.

Seriously.

Any one of those guys could throw their weight around the Federation without breaking a sweat.

Tracking down a newly registered comm ID—would that even be difficult?

My gaze locked onto those five names.

Only one question remained in my mind—how much had they already found out about me?

My finger hovered between Accept and Decline, my thoughts tearing back and forth.

Accept?

What if the comm device had a tracking function? That would be like handing them my coordinates myself.

Decline?

Were those people the kind who played by the rules?

Rejecting them might feel good now—but when they eventually caught me, it’d only be worse.

I stared at those five names for a full ten seconds, took a deep breath, and decided to play dead.

As if I’d never seen them at all.

I decisively shut off the interface—out of sight, out of mind—and started seriously looking for a place to stay.

In the end, I found a tiny, almost pathetic little motel wedged between two run-down buildings.

Only 80 pulses a night.

I instinctively glanced across the street again, at that towering thirty-story building—Eclipse Crown.

Compared to that, this 80 Pulse suddenly felt like a steal.

I tucked my hair up and did a quick bit of grooming, making myself look more like a guy, then walked in. The girl at the front desk was yawning, barely even lifting her head.

“Name?”

“Ash.”

I gave the alias smoothly. Paid. She took the money, handed over the key—all in one motion.

The room was tiny. Just a bed, and a bathroom so narrow it was hard to even turn around. The air carried a faint damp, musty smell—but at least it was a massive upgrade from that cramped hibernation pod where I could barely move.

I splashed some water on my face, then collapsed onto the bed. In less than three seconds, I was out.

I don’t know how long I slept before I jolted awake.

Something felt… off.

I sat up instantly.

The room was quiet.

Too quiet.

When I checked in, there had been noise—voices next door, snoring, the hum of passing aircraft. Now there was nothing. Not a single sound.

I got out of bed slowly, bare feet touching the floor, and moved to the door. Pressing up against it, it felt like the entire world had been muted.

The neon glow that should have been leaking through the crack under the door—from the Eclipse Crown across the street—was gone.

Pitch black.

A thought flashed through my mind,

Had Caedmon caught up to me?

In the junkyard, I’d relied on my instincts to escape danger more times than I could count. This time was no different.

I glanced down at myself—I was still wearing the same clothes from earlier.

Taking a slow breath, I eased the door open just a crack. The corridor was empty.

I pushed it open anyway and stepped out, ready to bolt at any moment.

I’d barely taken two steps when several beams of intense light slammed down from above, locking onto the entire open-air corridor. In an instant, the run-down motel was lit up like broad daylight.

My first instinct was to shrink back and run.

But the moment I moved, those beams tracked me as if they had eyes, snapping onto me and holding me in place like stage spotlights.

Yeah. No way I was getting away.

I stopped dead, raising a hand to shield my eyes. Squinting against the blinding glare, I peered out through my fingers.

Hovering in midair were more than a dozen black airships, silent and still. Sleek lines, cold metallic reflections—clearly not ordinary models. They didn’t even look military.

They had completely blocked out the neon lights of the Eclipse Crown across the street.

I stared for two seconds. If they weren’t military ships… then they probably weren’t Caedmon’s.

So who were they?

“Tap. Tap. Tap.”

Measured footsteps echoed from the far end of the corridor.

A man approached—dressed in a perfectly tailored dark gray suit. He stopped three steps in front of me, smiled, and then gave me an exquisitely formal aristocratic bow.

The spectacle was already absurd enough.

And now—etiquette, too.

“Good evening, Miss Ashley.”