Allen was now even more scared of what might happen to him. The police officers were ordered tight restrictions on all places, even opening up slots for patrols so they could have more manpower.

The main goal of the authorities was to find the Snake bearer and bring him for questioning. For some reason, the figure was blamed for the death of Drake Nelson, and Miss Lin herself said that they have proof for it.

At least, that's what she said on the announcement. The order was from the vice chairman of the Hunters herself, so unlike the rumors of the Phantom Cunt, the Snake Bearer was now a complete criminal and no one was against it.

The higher ups also connected a lot more cases and incidents with the Snake Bearer, making Allen get frustrated. Wherever he goes, he was framed for something that he didn't do. And if Lay didn't warn him abou the announcement, he would've act carelessly and might get caught.

On all entrances and exit of any camp, the guards were heavily watching. They seem to have a clear order from the top where they have to interrogate each and every one who enters and exits the camp.

For Allen, he had already prepared for his answers. It was a good thing that only he could see his interface, and using the skill where his nerves would relax, he could lie his way through the guards.

There he saw black flags, closed stores, and empty streets. Only a fraction of the economy was allowed to open to pay respect to the fallen chairman. This would go on for about four more days so they could complete their seven days of mourning.

It was a little too much, especially for an industry that was quick paced. They were going to slow down the economy, and will lose millions in the process, but the higher ups thought that it would only be proper for the almost two decades of service that Drake Nelson brought to their industry.

As the boy walked the barren streets, he felt a little chilly. He looked up and saw the dark gray skies, threatening to pour down the heavy rain it was carrying all this time.

Allen hated rain. For as long as he could remember, he had been hating the rain and would always sleep to wait it out. But this time, the cold winds that was blowing and the dark skies even when its only noon didn't affect him as much.

He felt numb, and as the days passed, as he solved more problems and wait for more to arise, he was getting more and more numb. This was getting to the point that he wanted it to end and just clear things up, but knowing the risks, especially now that he was being persecuted, he can't do so.

At the very least, he was glad that the Wandering Trader's name had been cleared. After the Second Coming of the Fire Dragon, no one had suspected for the mysterious figure to be even real, and brushed it off as just another rumors made up by some people.

The alleys were cleared, and the people had calmed down from that issue. But then another one had risen, and Allen was still on the blamed end. "When will everything stop?"

Allen was about to speak the words when someone else stole them before him. He looked around to see a man in his middle ages. He appeared to be at least fourty years old. A stub of beard was on his chin and neck while deep dark circles were underneath his eyes.

He had a lottery ticket on his hand while a depressed and hopeless expression was plastered on his face. This man seemed to be helpless, and he doesn't look like he wanted to live anymore.

"Bad day?" Allen found himself asking. He couldn't control the words that escaped his lips, it just did.

"Yeah," the man replied. "I'm broke, and I don't know where to get more money. You see, I had always wanted to buy a gift for my wife who always working hard in her office. Me being a Hunter didn't change the outlook her parents have for me."

The man's situation intrigued Allen for some reason. He found himself listening to the man's rants as he was getting entertained by him.

"Her mother is Amanda Bryans and her father is Daniel Bryans," the man said. "They both owned a law firm in earth, and their main clients were Hunters. They said that the Bryans won the case about the married who was sleeping with another man."

Allen remembered the case was from his list of suspects for the Phantom Cunt act. It was a huge scandal, but for some reason, the men had won the case and the wife even paid them money for defamation and other damages.

"They must be really talented," Allen said. "The Bryans are interesting."

His eyes widened when he realized that he wasn't the only one there. He looked at the man and smiled, "I'm a law student before I became a Hunter."

"Oh," the man opened his eyes and nodded. He placed the lottery ticket in his pocket and offered his hand, "Elvis Lawson, a treasure specialist."

"Treasure specialist," Allen repeated. He took the man's hand and shook it. "I'm Dante, an equipment specialist."

"Ohh," Elvis formed an O with his mouth again. "So, you're a support? That's cool."

"Something like that," Allen chuckled awkwardly, looking away. He forgot to register his own role in the Skill Altar countless of times. He also knew that when a Hunter registers for a role, they will gain huge benefits and advantages towards their specific role.

Say for example a Hunter registered himself for the tank role, they will have an increase in their defenses and stamina but will have a slight decrease on the other stats. Role selection was vital and crucial for any Hunter and it can't be undone.

There were Hunters who registered for a role hastily, and regretted the selection some time later. Maybe that was why role selection was unlocked after level 10, just so that the Hunter would know and truly understand themselves and can choose the proper role.

For Allen's case, he didn't feel the need to select any role. A Hunter without a role, or as they call it, Classless, is appropriate for his mixed fighting style. He was durable, can maintain enough damage, and could sustain himself.

He was afraid that if he selects a role, he would lose his advantage and would adjust again.

"Why is it just something like that?" Elvis chuckled, waking Allen up from his reverie. "You can't almost be a support role. You are a support role or not, there's no something like that. Unless you're classless?"

"I am classless," Allen said honestly. He can't escape this question now, and be can't escape this later on. He just has to make excuses until no one would ask him about it anymore.

"Why?" Lewis scrunched his face. "You're missing on a lot of things. A role will help you with your Hunt even when you're going solo. Though I prefer going in an organized team, going solo but with a role would be okay too. The boost from roles is so effective that you won't regret it."

Allen wanted to laugh at how Elvis was speaking. It was like the man was selling him a product that looks ridiculous, but he thinks that he could sell it.

"Personally, I'm a warrior," Elvis continued. "I have the durability of a tank and the damage of an assassin. I'm pretty much powerful. If you choose your role now, you'll truly find yourself."

"But apparently, choosing a role won't let you be powerful enough to impress his wife's parents," Allen snorted. He shook his head and sighed. "Don't worry, Elvis. You'll find yourself soon."

Elvis scoffed and gasped. He fakely placed his hand on his chest to portray being hurt. "You, young man, have a very bloody mouth."

Allen laughed at Elvis's reaction. He didn't know why he had just met this guy, but now Elvis was like a friend to him that he had known for several years.

"Let's turn here," Elvis said as he led Allen to a corner. There, he immediately snapped his fingerd and the alley became dark instantly. "Aw, you still haven't got it, don't you?"

"What are you doing?" Allen tilted his head to the side, not seeming to understand what was going on. "What?"

"You're a fool," Elvis grinned. "Who would trust someone that they just met?"

"No one." Allen stood properly and looked around. "You were using a skill to get my trust, right?"

"What if I was?" Elvis grinned. He stepped forward and a flat circular glass appeared on his foot. He stepped one more and the glass was now hovering in the air calmly. "What are you going to do about it?"

"I don't know," Allen shrugged. "Let's just see."