As time flows on, the old is cast aside for the new. Sometimes it's called a trend, other times, an upgrade, bringing freshness, adaptability, and modern flair. But here, on this land, one thing remains unchanged: bounty hunting.

It's not an unfamiliar term. Bounty hunting means capturing someone for a reward, one often so high, it stirs greed in the hearts of even the most disciplined.

In this modern age, there's little that can't be bought or found. But one thing remains elusive, almost mythical: platinum hair.

Platinum, as a metal, is rare- silver-white, corrosion, resistant, and remarkably durable. Often found in jewelry or high-end industry, it holds great value. But nothing was ever truly rare... until Platinum flowed in human blood and transformed into hair.

It is said that those born with platinum hair are one in millions—true anomalies. The wealthy, and shadowy organizations, will pay fortunes for hunters to bring them back alive.

In the hands of the rich, they might be cherished like gemstones—or turned into bizarre playthings. And for the organizations? If deemed useful, they're given high-paying roles. If not... they become experiments. Either way, a platinum-haired soul is rarely free. And death is often the final chapter.

Those with platinum hair carry a strange scent, faint, not overwhelming, but oddly alluring. It lingers just enough to entice. And worse still, it blends easily with other smells, making it nearly undetectable, unless you're one of the infamous few who knows exactly what to look for.

To live quietly among "humans," those with Platinum Hair must dye it regularly, monthly, weekly...depending on how fast the color fades. Platinum, after all, refuses to hold pigment like ordinary hair.

Today is Sunday, a day when everyone gets to stay home, free from work. And me.. Dunk Natachai, 25 years old, i'm still glued to my computer, searching for an extra evening job. A fresh graduate helping out with a small shop run by my cousin. I'm mild-mannered, easygoing, and sometimes... just a little slow. Only sometimes. When I was young, I fell and hit my head on a tree root while playing. The doctor said whenever I overwork my brain, it short-circuits a bit. It'll pass once I relax.

[Dunk?] – 16:00

[Yes, Kat?] – 16:01

[Can you come help at the shop later? I'm trying out an evening shift, and I'm not sure I can manage it alone.] – 16:02

[Sure! I'll be there by 5.] – 16:03

[Thanks, sweetie.] – 16:04

Well, that settles it—no need to look for more work. I'll just help my cousin. The pay's decent anyway.
I jump out of bed and pull on a pair of overalls, a green sweater with a smiling face stitched across the front, and let my hair fall loose. I look like a kid.

Exactly at 5 p.m., I arrive at Kat's café. She sells pastries and drinks here, so the place is often packed with young people.

"Watch the counter for me. I need to run to the restroom. My stomach's killing me."

"Okay."

I quickly took off my bag and stepped behind the cashier counter, putting on a cheerful face as I waited for customers. Since it was our first evening shift, the place wasn't too crowded.

*ding-a-ling*

"Welcome to Jaidee!"

That's the greeting we give every time someone walks through the door.

"Hi there, what can I get for you?"

"One tiramisu and a cappuccino, please."

"Would you like your cappuccino hot or iced?"

"Hmm... which one tastes better?"

"Most of our customers prefer it hot, sir."

"Alright then, hot it is."

"Got it! Would you like to add anything else to your order?"

"Nope, that's all. I'll pay by card."

"Sure thing."

I took his card and completed the payment like usual, then handed the card and receipt back with a polite smile.

"Here's your cappuccino, and I'll pack the cake to go."

"Alright."

"I'll bring your cappuccino out now, but I'll keep the cake here for later. When you're ready to leave, just bring your receipt back up to the counter, okay? Tiramisu doesn't keep well if it sits out too long."

"Ah, got it. Thanks."

I brought the drink over to the young man, who was sitting at a table directly across from the counter. He was handsome—the kind that made you pause for a second without even meaning to.

"Is this a new opening today?" he asked casually.

"Sort of " I smiled. "We usually only open during the day. This is our first evening trial."

"No wonder. I usually pass by after work but didn't see it open before."

"Yes, if things go well, we're planning to open from 8 a.m. to 10 p.m. every day. Please try it out and see if it suits your taste."

"Hmm."
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Sapo 🇻🇳 ( 11:15/ 210515)