Code Collector

In all the camps, or any city even in Earth, the rich and the poor will always be separated. There will always be the place for the rich, like the Wealth Valley, and for the poor.

There's always a Wealth Valley in all camps, and its corresponding area for the poor and unfortunate was called Rundown Street. It wasn't an official name of the street, but it was the most common thing called to the areas where the old buildings are and the poorer Hunters try to start their businesses.

In this entire street, only three stores were open. One was a bar where women dressed in overly provocative clothing while waiting for their customers, one was an inn where the building looked like it was about to collapse, and the other was a Codes shop.

They all looked bad, but the Codes shop in particular was old, like it was as old as time itself. Just by pushing the wooden door, the rusty metal hinges would groan and the bell on top of the door would ring but it had a different noise, as if it was a tone deaf person.

"What the hell," Allen whispered to himself.

Inside the store was a small room filled with empty stands. There were only wooden cubes in the hall of the store, the part where the weapon Codes should've been showcased.

There were four bulbs in the ceiling, but only two were functional. One was blinking, while the other was completely busted. Basically, this store was a huge empty wreck.

Thinking he was in a different store, Allen tried to walk out but a woman cleared her throat, making the boy turn around. There, by the light of one of the functional lights by the counter, an old lady was looking straight to his eyes.

"U-Uhm, hello?" Allen tried to speak, but heard no response. "I was sent here by Pamela to sell my Codes. She said I could sell it here?"

The woman's face changed from a stoic, to a warm gentle expression. "Oh, you must be Dante. Come here."

"Dante? Oh, yes. I am Dante," Allen scratched the back of his head after almost forgetting his new identity. "Yes, Dante. That is me."

The old lady narrowed her eyes and slolwy pursed her lips. She was examining Allen's reaction, suspiciously eyeing the boy. "You look oddly familiar."

"I do?" Allen tilted his head to the side. "I don't think I've ever met you before. I'm actually new here. I'm from a different camp, but then I transferred here."

"Oh," the old lady chuckled. "I must be thinking random stuff. Well, young man. My name is Hilda. What can I do for you today?"

"Hi, Hilda. I'm selling my Codes," Allen said. "I have three to offer right here, all Basic grade."

"Basic grade," Hilda repeated like it lingered on her mind. "Do you have a Rare grade to offer? I mostly deal with Rare grade and up."

Allen was taken aback. He was baffled, and his face looked baffled. He turned around to see the poor state of the store, and then turned back to Hilda to make a point. This store was a catastrophe, yet she's here demanding for a Rare grade.

"Oh," Hilda chuckled, then she started to tear up. "I know. But without a Rare grade, I can never promote my shop. I have lost everything due to my husband's gambling. Now I only have myself and this store."

Allen pursed his lips and did his best to suppress wrong words to come out of his mouth. At the moment, he didn't want any drama to enter his mind. He was a sensitive person, and people like Mary and Hilda would easily make his resolve crumble.

Hilda continued to sob, "Even my son who had already reached Paradise left me after his father spent all our money."

Then, as if there was a lightbulb lightning above his head, Allen had an idea. Ascending to the second world was already an incredible feat, only half of the Hunters in Haven could ever ascend. The others would either die trying, or settle down.

If someone has a connection to Paradise, it means they are connected to the government. It was a law imposed to protect the Hunters, since they were valuable assets. Reaching Paradise means you multiplied your net worth to ten.

He smirked and leaned closer to the counter. "I know someone who can help you," Allen whispered. "He's a mysterious traveler who deals with Codes and items, but you have to keep this a secret."

Hilda's face lit up slightly, "Can this person really help me? But how?"

"Let's start by selling my Codes, and I'll refer you to him," Allen offered. "But his methods are unorthodox, so you have to be very careful."

"What kind of method?" Hilda asked. "And I'm not doing something illegal. My son's pride would be at stake."

"Just buy my Codes and you can make, or not make, a deal with him," Allen said. "I'll even give you a discount. Three Codes for fourty thousand dollars."

"T-Three?" Hilda couldn't believe her ears. "Okay. I can do that. Three for fourty is already a huge bargain. Plus your little friend will help me."

Allen shook his head, "He's not helping you. He's just doing his job. He will try to use you as much as he can, so use him too."

His last statement was his cherry on top of the icing. Egging Hilda to use his alter ego's services as much as she could meant that Allen too can exploit her connections. It was a win-win for him and for her.

The momentum for his rise was slowly starting, and he had never been this excited before.

"Are you game?" Allen asked, quirking his eyebrow up. Hilda slowly nodded, making the boy smirk. "You can wait for him tomorrow night. He will come here when it gets dark."

"Tomorrow night, when it gets dark, okay," Hilda nodded. She was so excited that Allen could feel the adrenaline pump in her veins. This old woman might die if he keeps hyping her up, so he left the shop and went to the bank.

After taking the money to fill in the seventy five thousand payment for Mary, Allen went to the alley where they agreed to meet and wore his disguise. After this, he will rest for a moment and come back to Hilda. He now has his second client, and he wishes for this to continue.

Not long after he arrived, he heard footsteps coming close to him. Allen looked at where it was, and there, he saw Donna and Felicia.

"That's him!" Felicia yelled. "That's the *sshole who ruined our faces!"

Behind them was a man who wore the blue and black uniform of the Hunter police, an organization sent by the government to regulate the Hunters' behavior in each camp.

"Oh, so you're the bastard, huh?" the large police man said. "Let me teach you a lesson on how to treat women right."