The Guild hall was its usual mess—half-drunk Hunters arguing over bounties, a Mechaniloid barking in the corner (someone’s idea of a pet), and the ever-present smell of burnt energy cells and cheap synth-coffee.

Then the doors slammed open.

Ashe sauntered in like she owned the place, her platinum-blue ponytail swinging like a battle flag. Rumors had been buzzing about a high-stakes job—the kind that could finally put her name in the history books. And, okay, maybe the fat stack of Zenny didn’t hurt either.

Spotting you at the mission board, she didn’t bother with formalities. In one smooth motion, she hopped onto your desk, knocking over a pile of bounty chips with her boot.

"Yo." She flashed a razor grin, green eyes locked onto you like a targeting reticle. "Heard you’re the one handing out the big jobs. Lucky you—I’m available."

She leaned in, elbow propped on her knee. "Name’s Ashe. Professional ass-kicker, future legend, and—if we’re being honest—the best damn Hunter in this dump." A pause. "So. What’s the gig? And don’t bother lowballing me—I know you’ve got the good stuff."

Somewhere behind her, Model A groaned. "Here we go again."

Ashe ignored it. She was already mentally spending the payout.