Chapter 108: [MY FAULT]

’What’s… happening?’

Eli squirmed helplessly against Kairo’s shoulder, his body jostling with each deliberate, heavy stride the hunter took through the black water.

His stomach pressed into iron-hard muscle, uncomfortable and suffocating, every movement a reminder of how utterly trapped he was.

The world tilted and swayed with him. His view was a blur of shifting shadows, flickering drone lights glinting faintly off slick cavern walls.

Zaira’s shrill screams cut through the air, splitting the cavern into raw, jagged echoes. Each note made Eli’s pulse spike faster, a frantic rhythm pounding in his ears.

He craned his neck, desperate for a glimpse of her—or Mel—but his vision was nothing but a blur of water and shadow.

“Don’t.”

Kairo’s voice rumbled from above him, sharp, unyielding—like a blade pressed to his throat. “Look down. Check me instead. Tell me if I have leeches—where, and how many.”

Eli froze, his breath catching in his chest.

“W-Wh—Okay.” The word tumbled out, small, almost swallowed by Zaira’s screams.

Guilt stabbed through his chest like a knife. ’If I’d sensed it sooner… if I had warned them… maybe Mel and Zaira wouldn’t be suffering right now.’

“Now.”

That single word carried such weight it left no room for hesitation.

Eli scrambled, fumbling his flashlight with clammy hands until the beam stuttered to life, slicing a shaky cone of light through the murky black. His knuckles ached from how tightly he gripped it.

Zaira’s screams cracked again, sharp as glass shattering. Mio’s voice followed, low and tense, but edged with strain.

“Zaira. Stop flailing.” His footsteps splashed closer, the sound of fabric shifting like steel wires tightening. “Calm down before you force me to use my threads. You know it’ll hurt.”

Threads.

Right. Mio’s ability wasn’t ordinary binding—it was weaponized. His threads could slice through monsters like blades if he poured enough force into them.

’Is he actually considering it? On her? Just to stop her struggling?’ Eli’s stomach flipped.

He forced his eyes back to the task, dragging the beam shakily down Kairo’s frame. The water gleamed in the light, distorting his vision, but Eli focused hard.

Boots first—dark, soaked to the shin. Then the sweep of black combat fabric clinging tight to his calves. The ripple of corded muscle moving beneath, unrelenting with every stride—

Eli braced himself for the sight of grotesque bulges. Fat, writhing things clinging to him like they had Mel and Zaira.

His brows furrowed. He blinked.

’Wait. What?’

He angled the beam again, double-checking, certain he must have missed it.

But no.

There was nothing.

Not one leech.

The water sloshed steady around Kairo’s legs, gleaming faintly, but the fabric was clean. Untouched.

’How? How the hell… is he completely clean when everyone else is crawling with them?’

“There we go.” Kairo’s low murmur rumbled more to himself than to anyone else, but it carried a finality that cut through the chaos.

Eli’s flashlight beam wavered, shaking in his sweaty grip. Zaira’s screams, once shrill and piercing, cracked into jagged sobs that weakened with every breath.

“Look… Zaira, see?” Mio’s voice came sharp, controlled, coaxing—but there was a razor of warning buried in it. Splashes echoed close to her, the wet shuffle of restrained limbs. “The leeches are about to get killed. Calm down.”

Another screech split the cavern. The sound was alien, like metal grating against stone, and Eli flinched as it clawed down his spine. His heart hammered.

That noise wasn’t Zaira.

It was the leech.

Kairo was moving again, steady strides slicing through water, his aura suffocating the air. Eli couldn’t see clearly from his place over the man’s shoulder, but the sharp crack and wet hiss that followed told him everything.

Blood-forged needles.

Piercing.

Tearing.

Killing.

“See?” Mio hissed, his voice dropping lower, steadier. “They’re dead. They’re dead.”

“I-I…” Zaira’s voice trembled, broken. A splash followed—then a sudden, harsh gasp from Mio.

“Hey—Hey! Zai, you can’t—” His words cut off, jagged, breaking into a curse. “Fuck!”

Eli’s stomach twisted. His frown cut deeper, panic curling through his veins. ’What’s happening? Did she… also…’

Then Mio’s voice rang out, tense, sharp with panic.

“Captain, she passed out!”

’Fuck.’

Eli’s breath caught in his throat, the weight of it sinking heavy. Two out of the five of them were down now—Mel limp in the water, and Zaira unconscious in Mio’s grip. The cavern seemed to close in tighter with every second, the dripping of water louder, heavier, oppressive.

But above the spiraling panic—Kairo’s voice cleaved clean through.

“Eli.”

His tone was calm. Absolute.

“Do I have any?”

Eli blinked, disoriented. “W-What?”

“Leeches,” Kairo clarified, his voice unbothered, as if the madness around them didn’t exist. “On me. I asked you to check, didn’t I?”

Eli’s throat bobbed. His flashlight beam jerked clumsily back to the man’s body, tracing down the broad shoulders, the curve of his back, the ripple of muscle in his legs.

Clean. Still clean. Not one of the writhing black parasites clung to him.

Eli’s lip trembled. ’Why him? Why is he the only one untouched?’

“Uhm… uh…” He bit his lip until the copper taste of blood filled his mouth. “You don’t have any.”

Kairo’s voice pressed again, calm but weighted, like the snap of a blade poised at his throat. “Confirm. Repeat what you just said.”

Eli’s voice cracked, his throat tight. “Y-You don’t. There’s nothing. You’re clean.”

“…Huh.”

The faint grunt of acknowledgment left Kairo’s throat, almost too low to hear. His stride never faltered, water splashing steady beneath his boots as if nothing had changed. “Good. Alright.”

Then his head turned slightly, voice carrying cold and sharp over the cavern’s echo:

“Mio. Can you carry Mel and restrain Zaira?”

“I can handle Zaira,” Mio shot back quickly, his breath strained, the splashing uneven as he struggled to keep her still. “But Mel’s going to be difficult.”

A low, rare mutter slipped past Kairo’s lips, gravel-edged.

“Fuck.”

Eli’s eyes widened. His chest tightened.

Kairo had cursed.

His monotone had cracked, edged with something rough—frustration.

Kairo was silent.

The cave seemed to breathe heavier around them, pressing down with every drop of water that fell from the jagged ceiling.

Each ripple across the black surface carried their steps farther than it should have, magnifying the sound of retreat into something that felt almost shameful.

His boots cut through steadily, one after another, the rhythm unbroken. Eli dangled over his shoulder like a sack of flesh—like dead weight.

The hunter’s grip didn’t falter, didn’t shift, didn’t acknowledge the weight at all.

’What are we going to do now?’

The question coiled in Eli’s chest, suffocating. His guilt pressed harder than Kairo’s shoulder digging into his stomach.

For a long, suffocating moment, there was only silence. Only the faint rasp of Zaira’s ragged, unconscious breaths and the shallow, erratic sound of Mel’s.

Then—Mio spoke, his voice low, tense. As if plucking Eli’s own thought out of the air.

“Captain… what are we going to do now?”

Eli stiffened, holding his breath.

He expected Kairo’s answer to be simple. Brutal. Press forward. That was what S-Class hunters did, wasn’t it? Adapt, fight, conquer. Force their way through no matter the odds.

But instead—

“Fall back.”

The words cut through the cavern like a blade, sharper and heavier than steel.

Eli’s eyes went wide. Even Mio froze mid-step, the water around his legs stuttering into a violent ripple. His jaw tightened, his brows pulled down hard.

Kairo’s voice followed, calm and absolute. A stone set in place, immovable.

“We don’t know how long it will take for Zaira and Mel to recover. We can’t move forward while our forces are down. Not when we don’t understand what we’re dealing with.”

It wasn’t surrender. It wasn’t fear. The tone was measured, like a verdict handed down from something higher.

Mio swallowed hard, his expression taut. “…Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Kairo didn’t hesitate. His black eyes flicked back briefly, glinting like obsidian under the drone light. “Carry both of them. We’re leaving.”

No room for doubt. No room for argument.

Eli’s chest clenched tighter. ’Even retreat feels like my fault…’

“…Alright, Captain.” Mio’s voice was tight, resigned.

He adjusted Zaira’s limp form higher over his shoulder, her pale hair dripping water as her arms dangled.

Then he bent down with a grunt, muscles coiling as his arm hooked beneath Mel’s dead weight.

His jaw clenched, the strain written across his face, but his movements were precise—controlled even under the weight of two unconscious hunters.

The water churned loud as he forced himself upright, every step like dragging chains through mud.

Then they moved.

Their formation reversed, every stride sending ripples outward into the suffocating dark. The cavern swallowed the sound of their retreat, boots splashing, drones buzzing faintly above like a swarm of restless insects.

The echoes felt endless—like something was listening.

Eli’s chest ached. He tilted his head weakly against Kairo’s back, his voice escaping him in a whisper, fractured and small.

“…I’m sorry.”

Kairo didn’t falter. His stride remained relentless, the water breaking beneath his boots like nothing could slow him.

“…Why are you apologizing?” His voice was calm, almost detached, yet demanding an answer.

“Because…” Eli’s throat burned. His grip tightened painfully on the flashlight, the beam wobbling against the cave floor, catching jagged rock and black water. “I feel like this is all my fault.”

The silence after was suffocating.

“And why do you think that?”

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