Chapter 100: [CALM DOWN]

Eli was in shock.

No—scratch that. He was beyond shock.

It felt worse now than when Caelen had kidnapped him—and that had only been a few days ago. His brain hadn’t even had time to process that trauma, and now here he was again, thrown into another storm he hadn’t asked for.

Within just fifteen minutes, he’d been shoved into chaos: rummaging through Elione’s cavernous walk-in closet, fumbling with buckles and straps, yanking on hunter gear that didn’t even feel like it belonged to him.

His fingers had trembled the entire time. His chest felt like it was going to cave in.

And now—now he was back in Kairo’s sleek car, the hum of the engine steady and powerful beneath them, as though mocking the erratic pounding of his heart.

They were on their way to an S-Class gate.

An S-Class gate.

Eli’s hands sat stiffly on his knees, his thigh bouncing up and down like a jackhammer. He bit down on the inside of his cheek, trying to control it, but the nerves bled out anyway.

Why was he nervous?

Because who wouldn’t be?

Going inside an A-Class gate that turned S-Class had nearly killed him. That priest… just remembering the way its creepy smile still made his skin crawl.

But this—this was different. This wasn’t a gate turning.

This was stepping knowingly into an S-Class dungeon, something hunters whispered about like legends and nightmares.

Monsters so strong they warped reality. Dungeons that could swallow whole cities.

And he was just… supposed to walk in there?

His stomach twisted. His palms sweated against the fabric of his pants. Every nerve in his body screamed that this was wrong. That he was walking to his death.

Yet beside him, Kairo sat like carved obsidian—calm, unshaken.

One hand on the wheel, the other resting loosely against the gear shift, his profile illuminated by the cold glow of streetlights as they streaked past the windows.

The contrast was maddening.

Eli tapped his thigh harder, the rhythm uneven, frantic. His gaze flicked sideways.

’Of course he wouldn’t be nervous. He’s an S-Class. Even Caelen was cocky when it was just the two of us.’ His chest rose and fell too fast. ’This time, Kairo’s going in with his whole team. To him, it’s just another day at work. But me? I’m not even mentally prepared for another dungeon!’

He dug his nails into his palms, trying to ground himself.

And then there was the system.

The system, with its ever-present noose around his neck. This time it hadn’t given him a flashy mission. No clever objective. Just a single, blunt message earlier:

[SYSTEM MESSAGE]

> Say yes.

That was all.

Two words.

And somehow, those two words were scarier than every other mission and threat the system had ever spat at him.

They echoed in his skull now, over and over, louder than the sound of his own heartbeat.

So fine. Fine. He’d said yes. What choice did he have?

At least this time, Kairo had asked. Or—well, no. He hadn’t asked, not really. He’d commanded. But it was still better than Caelen’s brand of “kidnap first, explain later.”

Eli exhaled shakily, staring out the window, the city lights blurring as the car ate up the distance.

’I don’t know if I’ll survive this one. But I already said yes. And that means I’m going.’

“Calm down.”

Kairo’s voice sliced through Eli’s spiraling thoughts like a blade. It wasn’t loud, but it carried weight—low, steady, edged with command that brooked no argument.

He didn’t even glance at him when he said it. His gaze stayed fixed on the road, hands loose on the wheel, every movement controlled.

“This isn’t like what happened with Caelen.” His words rolled out with precision, each one deliberate. “You won’t be alone this time. We’ll have a whole team with us.”

Eli blinked, his bouncing leg freezing mid-shake.

’I already knew that…’ He’d been telling himself the same thing on loop since the moment Kairo shoved him into this car. But hearing it spoken aloud—hearing Kairo

say it—carried a weight his own self-reassurance hadn’t.

“And I’ll make sure you don’t get hurt.”

Just like that. As if it were as simple as promising clear skies tomorrow.

Eli’s throat tightened. His chest fluttered with something he didn’t want to name. He forced a crooked smile, flimsy at best. “I’m not that nervous.”

That earned him a tilt of Kairo’s head. Just a fraction—enough for those black eyes to catch him, pin him. “I don’t like liars.”

The words hit harder than they should have, sharp enough to strip him bare.

Eli’s shoulders slumped. His fake smile crumbled into something weary, his chest loosening in reluctant defeat.

He let his forehead thunk lightly against the cool glass of the window. “…Fine. I’m freaking out. Really freaking out.”

The admission slipped free, unpolished, raw. And for some reason—it left him lighter.

’And add to that… I really want to know how Mom’s doing. I didn’t even get to check properly. Lucas looked so damn exhausted, and I couldn’t even help. Couldn’t even do anything. God, I hate this.’

The ache in his chest sharpened, pressing against his ribs like a vice.

’I guess… I just need to survive this S-Class gate with Kairo and his team. Wrap this up. Then I’ll figure out how to actually help them.’

Silence settled over the car again, but this time it wasn’t suffocating. It was steady, solid—like the hum of the engine, the faint rush of wind against glass, the muted glow of the city streaming past.

Finally, Eli found his voice, quieter now, but steadier—as though talking would keep the fear at bay. “…Where did it appear? The gate.”

Kairo didn’t hesitate. “Seomra District. Northeast Soul.”

Eli nodded slowly, trying to ground himself in practicality. “Not that far.”

“Yes.” Kairo’s tone sharpened again, the faintest edge of command returning. “So calm down now and…”

“And?”

“Try not to get bothered by my team too much.”

Eli’s brows knit, confusion flickering across his face. “Bothered… how?”

He’d already met Twilight Guild. He knew about them—hell, he’d been a fan before all this insanity started.

Mio, Zaira, Mel—they hadn’t seemed that bad. Loud, dramatic, maybe, but not unbearable.

Kairo just exhaled, the kind of sigh that carried more weight than a dozen words. “You’ll see.”

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