Pint-Sized Partner

"We're terribly sorry — while we'd genuinely like to help, your situation sounds like something for the police."

The old man turned the young woman down with practiced gentleness.

"But the police are useless..." She leaned forward, desperation edging into her voice. "At least send a Demon Hunter to watch over me tonight. I can pay you right now — whatever you ask."

"We genuinely don't have anyone to spare. Our demon hunters are all out on major assignments."

The young woman's expression curdled. She had come all this way, specifically to the Azure Sky Hunting Firm, and they weren't even going to take the job. The money sitting right in front of them, and they looked utterly unmoved.

"You people — how can you just abandon me like this? If something happens to my family... if anything happens to us, I will haunt you from beyond the grave!!"

The words burst out of her. She shoved to her feet and fled — stumbling out into the lane, drained and hollow, as if something essential had gone out of her.

Mo Fan watched her go. She'd looked genuinely wrung out. He felt a pang of pity. "Why won't you help her?"

Whether her husband was a Demon-Beast in disguise or simply a murder suspect, the woman's own account made clear she was in danger — and she'd been ready to pay. Why wouldn't the old man just take the case?

"Young man." The old man tapped his pipe. "You can never judge by appearances."

"Wait — is there something more going on here?" Mo Fan rubbed his chin and unconsciously slipped into full detective mode.

"Take a look at this." The old man reached under the counter, produced a folded document, and tossed it over without ceremony.

Puzzled, Mo Fan opened it.

The contract was short. A client had requested overnight protection, stating he believed a serious threat lurked nearby — one that endangered both himself and his child. The night of protection requested was tonight, and the agreement appeared to have been signed that very morning, somewhere around seven o'clock.

"What is this — does this person's family have the same kind of trouble as the woman who just left?"

The old man smiled and tapped the address listed on the document with a yellowed finger.

Mo Fan glanced at it — and froze.

"That's the exact same address the woman gave... What on earth is going on here?!"

He recognized it: a private gated garden in the southern part of the university district, an upscale pocket of the city that Mo Fan and his dormmates had drifted past on lazy walks around campus. Not far from Pearl Academy at all.

He had already half-decided to go check on the woman once she left — partly out of an instinct to rescue a damsel in distress, partly because the route home passed that way anyway. What he hadn't anticipated was that the situation ran far deeper than it appeared.

"This commission," the old man said pleasantly, "was filed by that woman's husband — earlier today. His account is much the same as hers."

The moment Mo Fan heard that, a wave of goosebumps swept from his collar to his ankles.

"So the husband came here *first*, and he's claiming his wife is the one going out at night to cause harm?"

He genuinely hadn't seen that coming at all.

"Indeed. Lately the cases have been rather dull — this one is genuinely unusual." The old man looked at Mo Fan with a smile that was just a shade too knowing. "Since you're looking to join us, young man, consider this your initiation."

"I'm happy to get to work right away — but this is a mess. I have absolutely no idea which one of them is telling the truth."

Mo Fan was completely at sea.

"That's exactly why we only accepted one commission. Did you not read the contract carefully? It states that if the client himself comes to harm, he does not hold us responsible. His sole request is that we protect the child. Whether it's the husband or wife who's the problem — resolving that would be a welcome bonus. But the child's safety is what matters most."

"Got it." Mo Fan nodded, then swept his gaze around the empty little shop. "So where's the rest of my team? You can't seriously be sending me in alone."

"Of course not. Look — your teammate is right there beside you."

Mo Fan turned and scanned the space at his side. Nothing.

When he looked back at the old man, baffled, the old man gestured for him to lower his gaze. Mo Fan did — and found himself looking at a small, adorable head crowned with twin pigtails, and a face so young it seemed sculpted directly from childhood.

"This little girl?!"

Mo Fan's brain ground to a halt.

"That's right. Most commissions at the Azure Sky Hunting Firm are handled by solo operators or two-person teams. Lingling's last partner died while investigating a matter for the Tribunal, so we needed to bring someone new in."

"You want me to bring a *little girl* on a demon hunt? Is this a joke?"

"I will be bringing *you* — the rookie — along. You're welcome."

Lingling fixed him with a look of pure disdain, then reached into her pocket and placed something badge-shaped on the counter in front of him.

Mo Fan studied it with mild curiosity — and nearly fell off his stool.

"H-Hunter... *Hunter Master*?!"

He felt like the badge had struck him physically. This tiny girl — the kind he could lift with two fingers — was a Hunter Master?!

Hunter badges issued by the Hunters' Alliance couldn't be forged; they were identity-bound at the source, and the one Lingling had produced was unambiguously genuine. The problem was simply that Mo Fan had no framework for believing a girl barely ten years old was a seasoned master who had hunted demons beyond counting.

After all, as a university freshman, holding the title of Intermediate Hunter was something he'd considered worth bragging about.

"Grandpa, I don't want him. He looks thick as a post — he'll only get in the way."

"Let's give him a chance," the old man replied, unmoved. "The Azure Sky Hunting Firm has always struggled to recruit. Someone who isn't afraid to die is hard enough to come by. And I can see this boy has real ability — with proper development, he could amount to something."

Lingling gave a cold little snort, snapped shut the thick book she'd been holding, and stalked off toward the inner room with the bearing of someone who had been deeply, personally wronged.

Mo Fan watched her small figure disappear around the corner. His mind was a stampede — too many things clamoring at once, none of them resolving into words.

Honestly, just that morning he had been daydreaming about the brilliant, seasoned demon-hunting team he was about to join. Veterans. Sharp instincts. The kind of crew that would push him hard and make him grow. Then in a single moment, the whole fantasy had collapsed — down to one tiny, indignant figure flouncing away with her twin pigtails.