A new wave of trials soon descended upon the hunters—this time, in the form of Dungeons.
These mysterious realms, long forgotten by the world, began to manifest across Ceruleth. According to prevailing theories, dungeons were self-contained dimensions that birthed monsters periodically, threatening to overflow if left unchecked.
However, unlike the chaotic rifts, dungeons offered a strange equilibrium. Inside, the strength ratio between hunters and monsters was more balanced. A Level 5 hunter could challenge and even defeat a Level 6 monster with enough skill and strategy.
This newfound balance broadened the scope of the hunter world. More and more people dared to venture inside, growing stronger as their levels rose. But peace was never meant to last.
The true problem arose when hunters began hitting their tier limits—capped at Level 100. Meanwhile, monsters continued evolving and growing stronger by the day, leaving humanity at a dangerous disadvantage.
Then came a legendary event. A group of seven elite hunters—already revered as the first to defeat a field boss and establish a territory for humans—gathered once more. A rift had emerged right before their domain.
They were known as The Pioneers.
Among them stood a man hailed as the God Maker, the mastermind who discovered and nurtured the raw talent of six ordinary individuals. Under his guidance, they became forces of nature—each one now leading the world's top six global guilds.
But the God Maker himself... perished in the infamous Battle of Nexus, laying down his life to defeat a Lord-tier beast and claim a stronghold for humanity in the Nexus realm.
His sacrifice immortalized him as a hero. Countless biographies, documentaries, and novels were created to honor the lives of the Pioneers, shedding light on how they carved out hope from a world of chaos.
Evan leaned back in his chair, letting the screen dim slightly as he processed what he'd read.
"The God Maker… Why would someone that powerful choose death when he had six godlike subordinates?"
"Was it intentional… or necessary?"
The thoughts lingered in his mind, unanswered.
He turned toward the window. The streets outside were still lit with the glow of bustling city life, though dusk had already fallen. His stomach rumbled—breaking his train of thought.
He decided to eat out.
Locking the apartment door behind him, Evan descended the stairs and stepped into the cool evening breeze. Hunters returning from dungeon raids walked beside salarymen shuffling toward their night shifts.
Soon, he arrived at a small but popular local restaurant. The savory aromas hit him immediately.
He placed his order and dug in, savoring every bite. Peaceful moments like this were rare.
But that peace didn't last.
His gaze drifted toward the entrance. A familiar group walked in—Lucas, Tess, and Ilya—chatting casually, no doubt after a dungeon run.
Evan instinctively turned his face slightly away, hiding his features.
The trio was guided by a waiter to a table just two spots ahead of him on the left. Evan stared down at his food, seemingly uninterested. But inside, a seed had been planted.
Why wait?Why let weeds grow when you can uproot them now?
He almost stood up then and there—but quickly restrained himself. Killing a hunter in this area, even subtly, would bring unnecessary trouble.
He needed a plan. Something quiet. Personal.
With that thought, he called the waiter and requested the bill. When it arrived, he paid through his phone, then added one more request:
"A pen and some paper, please."
The waiter blinked in confusion but complied, bringing over a slip of paper and a pen before returning to his duties.
Evan scribbled something on the paper, folded it, and smirked to himself.
He didn't have to wait long. Lucas excused himself from his group and headed toward the restroom.
Evan glanced around. No one was watching.
He slipped from his seat and followed.
Inside the restroom, Lucas was washing his hands, head lowered. Evan stood behind him, mask summoned silently onto his face, concealing both identity and status.
He waited.
Lucas finished rinsing and raised his face to the mirror—only to freeze.
Reflected behind him stood a masked man, silent and unreadable.
Lucas turned, activating his mana shield on instinct, ready for an ambush.
But nothing happened.
Instead, something light brushed his arm and dropped to the floor.
Lucas flinched, expecting an attack—only to realize it was… a folded piece of paper.
He picked it up cautiously and unfolded it.
As his eyes scanned the message, his face paled, and his breath caught in his throat. A cold sweat formed along his back.
He slowly looked back up—But the masked man was gone.
—To Be Continued—