The soldier's gaze flicked between me and the dagger in my hand, his expression darkening with skepticism.

  His posture hadn’t fully relaxed, and I could tell his grip was still hovering near his own weapon.

  "That thing looks like it’s seen better days," he remarked, eyes narrowing at the worn blade. "If you really are a hunter, then where’s your gear? Your weapon? Your identification?"

  "This is my weapon" I said, simply turning the dagger in my hand.

  The edge was chipped in places, the handle slightly worn from use.

  It wasn’t exactly a relic of power, but it was enough for me.

  The soldier, however, didn’t seem convinced.

  "Or," he continued, his voice carrying an edge of suspicion, "Maybe you’re not a hunter at all. Maybe you’re just some lunatic who is using that dagger to kill people. A criminal taking advantage of the situation."

  A ripple of murmurs spread through the nearby passengers.

  I could feel the weight of their stares pressing against my back, their uncertainty turning into quiet judgment.

  I met the soldier’s gaze without flinching.

  "That’s a hell of an accusation to throw at someone who just stood up to help."

  He didn’t back down.

  "I’ve seen people like you before. People who think they can slip through the cracks, pretend to be something they’re not."

  I let out a slow breath, keeping my grip on the dagger relaxed.

  "If I was a killer," I said, my voice steady, "You wouldn’t still be talking."

  That made him pause.

  The tension between us thickened, stretching the silence.

  I sighed, slipping the dagger back into my jacket pocket.

  Clearly, flashing a worn-out blade wasn’t enough to convince this guy.

  His hand still hovered near his own weapon, and the tension in his stance made it clear he wasn’t backing down anytime soon.

  Fine.

  If steel wasn’t enough, maybe something else would be.

  Reaching into my other pocket, I pulled out a small glass vial filled with a shimmering blue liquid.

  The moment the potion caught the dim train lights, a few gasps rippled through the nearest passengers.

  The soldier’s eyes flicked to it, his frown deepening.

  "A potion," I said, holding it up between two fingers. "Not exactly something an average civilian would carry around, wouldn’t you say?"

  He didn’t look impressed.

  If anything, his suspicion only deepened.

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  "Anyone can buy a potion," he said flatly. "Just because you have one doesn’t prove anything. Hell, for all I know, you could’ve picked it up off some black-market dealer in an alley."

  I scoffed, shaking the vial slightly, watching the liquid swirl inside.

  "Right. Because black-market dealers are just handing out good potions to random nobodies."

  "Depends on what kind of nobody you are," he shot back.

  I clenched my jaw, exhaling through my nose.

  This was getting annoying.

  No matter what I did, this guy refused to acknowledge the obvious.

  What, did I need to start casting lighting just to prove a point?

  This whole truck and everyone in it would get erased and it will be my fault for mistakenly killing them.

  And he might not still be convinced if I show my power, he might just counter it by simply saying, 'that doesn't still prove anything', but I can simply reply by saying, 'didnt they mention that they need an awakened or hunter', but he would just simply counter by saying, 'they asked for expirenced one, and I don't look expirenced'.

  This is frustrating.

  "You’re really reaching now," I muttered. "I stood up when no one else did. I have a weapon. I have a potion. And yet, somehow, in your mind, that just makes me more suspicious?"

  The soldier didn’t flinch.

  "You’re missing the key point," he said, voice sharp. "None of this proves you’re a hunter. It just proves you came prepared."

  I stared at him for a long moment, then shook my head.

  "Unbelievable."

  He crossed his arms.

  "You want to be believable? Show me something real."

  I let out a long sigh, rubbing the bridge of my nose as the weight of the situation settled in.

  This entire back-and-forth had been completely unnecessary, hadn’t it?

  Here I was, pulling out daggers and potions like some suspicious lunatic, when I could’ve just taken the easiest route from the start.

  My Hunter's ID card.

  The realization hit me like a slap to the face.

  Of course, I had a way to prove my status.

  Every hunter was issued an official ID by the government after passing their evaluation.

  It was standard protocol, something that couldn’t be forged or bought on the black market.

  It had my rank, my abilities, everything.

  And I’d completely forgotten about it.

  I exhaled sharply, shaking my head.

  Even he is an idiot for not asking for it.

  "You’ve got to be kidding me," I muttered under my breath.

  The soldier arched an eyebrow, clearly waiting for me to say something.

  His arms were still crossed, his stance rigid, like he was ready to detain me at any second.

  He probably thought I was running out of excuses, that I’d finally hit a wall in whatever shady act he assumed I was pulling.

  I met his gaze and, without another word, reached into my inner jacket pocket.

  This time, instead of another weapon or mysterious item, I pulled out a sleek black card.

  The second I held it up, the tension in the air shifted.

  The soldier’s eyes locked onto the ID immediately, his entire demeanor changing in an instant.

  His previous skepticism wavered, replaced by something more cautious.

  He took it from my hands, probably to get a closer look, I could see him scanning it, searching for any signs of forgery.

  "You're serious," he muttered, reaching for the card hesitantly.

  He turned it over in his hands, inspecting every detail, the embossed lettering, the official insignia, the unique serial number tied to my registered status.

  "That good enough proof for you?" I asked, voice dry.

  The soldier exhaled, handing it back.

  "Would've been a lot easier if you just showed this from the start." The soldier muttered bearly hearable, while inspecting my card.

  After the soldier finish inspecting my Hunter's ID, he handed it back to me,

  I took the card from him, and slipped the card back into my pocket.

  His posture straightened, and his expression shifted from skepticism to something resembling respect, though there was still a trace of embarrassment lingering beneath it.

  "My apologies, Mr. Quovar," he said, his voice suddenly much more formal. "I didn’t realize you were an official hunter. But If you had just shown this earlier, we could have avoided wasting time."

  "If you had just asked about it from the start, would've also been a lot easier" I replied.

  The soldier chuckled, and said.

  "Yeah, I guess we both are at fault"

  I resisted the urge to sigh again.

  No kidding.

  Instead of responding, I simply gave a small nod and turned toward the train exit.

  Enough time had been lost already.

  The situation outside wasn't going to pause just because I got caught up in some unnecessary interrogation.

  The portal was still out there, its nature unknown, and whatever threat lurked beyond it wasn’t going to wait patiently for me to arrive.

  I took a step forward.

  Then another.

  I was just a few strides away from stepping off the train when...

  "Wait."

  I stopped mid-step, shoulders tensing as I clenched my jaw.

  You have got to be kidding me.