Chapter 195: [UNDENIABLY HUMAN]

Everything passed like a blur.

Not fast—but numb. Like the world had been wrapped in cotton, like every sound reached him a second too late.

Eli didn’t even remember walking out of the dungeon.

One moment he was staring at the glowing exit gate…

the next—

FLASH.

FLASH FLASH FLASH.

Hundreds of camera shutters exploded in their faces.

Thousands of voices crashed over them all at once—

“What happened inside?”

“Is it true there was an SS-Class?”

“Kairo! Captain Kairo, look here—!”

“Caelen, how did your team get in—!”

“Elione Noa Ahn, could you tell us—”

Eli flinched at the noise, but he barely processed any of it.

What he did register, faintly, was the warmth at either side of him.

Kairo on one side.

Caelen on the other.

Both stuck to him like glue, blocking the cameras, blocking the arms reaching out, blocking the crowding reporters.

Their bodies boxed him in completely, protective and unyielding, like they were ready to fight anyone who got too close.

But even that didn’t pull Eli fully back into himself.

Everything was too much. Too bright. Too loud.

He remembered Midas Ryu appearing—calm, smiling politely, asking for a “brief private conversation,” and several high-ranking Hunter Association officials flanking him.

He remembered Caelen stepping forward instantly, baring his teeth like an irritated wolf.He remembered Kairo saying, “He’s not answering anything today,” in a voice ice-cold and final.

He remembered being ushered into a car.

He remembered being taken to the hospital.

He remembered sitting on a medical bed, staring at the wall while doctors checked his blood pressure, his mana levels, the faint burns on his arms.

He remembered Elione’s mother bursting through the door in tears, hugging him so tightly he could barely breathe.

He remembered Elione’s father gripping his shoulders, voice trembling as he asked if Eli was hurt, if he wanted to transfer hospitals, if he remembered everything.

He remembered nodding.

He remembered lying.

He remembered looking at them and feeling absolutely nothing.

Empty.

Like his mind had shut down the moment the serpent died.

Like he was just… operating on instinct.

A machine running through motions.

Later—much later—he remembered being driven back to Aureum Gold condo, the city lights streaking past the car windows like broken stars.

He remembered getting out of the elevator.

He remembered opening the condo door.

He remembered stepping inside and closing it behind him.

He didn’t remember how he got across the room.

But he remembered the sound—

crack—

Something fell to the floor.

Eli blinked for the first time in what felt like hours, turning slowly. His jacket hung half-off his arm. Something had tumbled out of its pocket.

He crouched down on reflex.

His fingers brushed cold metal.

His heart lurched.

’That’s…’

He lifted it carefully.

The picture frame.

The one from the lab.

The one the serpent had tried to show him.

The one he’d pressed close to his chest for protection without even realizing it.

He had forgotten it completely.

But now—

holding it again—

the numbness in his body cracked.

Just a little.

Just enough for something warm and painful to rise in his throat.

Eli sat there on the floor, jacket slipping onto his lap, picture frame shaking in his hands, as the weight of everything finally—slowly—began to settle into his bones.

He sat on the floor for a long moment, breathing shallowly, the picture frame cold and trembling in his hands.

His fingers hovered uselessly over the cracked glass.

He tried—really tried—to push the serpent out of his mind.

To forget the way it lowered its head to him.

The way it nudged him gently with its tail.

The way it looked… relieved, almost happy, when he spoke.

And the way it looked betrayed when it got attacked.

That ache twisted again.

Eli squeezed his eyes shut.

’Stop. Not now. Not yet.’

He wasn’t ready for that.

He wasn’t ready for the confusion.

He wasn’t ready for the guilt.

He wasn’t ready for whatever the serpent had tried to tell him before it died.

He already had too much to deal with.

Too many things falling apart.

’A random serpent from a random dungeon shouldn’t be part of my life,’ he told himself firmly. ’It shouldn’t be affecting me like this.’

He inhaled shakily.

Then focused on the one thing he could control.

The frame.

He forced his hands to steady—barely—and wiped at the dusty glass with his sleeve. A smear cleared. Not enough to see anything.

He wiped again.

And again.

Each swipe was quicker, more desperate, like his heartbeat was being dragged along with it.

Dust peeled away in streaks, revealing little hints beneath—edges of a shoulder, a faint line of color, a soft blur of something pale.

Eli leaned closer, breath stuttering.

Another wipe—

And something clear broke through the murk.

Skin tone.

White fabric.

A streak of bright gold.

His pulse jumped.

He wiped again—harder this time, almost frantic.

And suddenly—

The image snapped into clarity.

Eli froze.

“…Oh…”

For a moment he forgot how to breathe.

The photo was torn.

The right half ripped away entirely, leaving only a faint outline of a second figure who was no longer there.

But the person who remained

—

Eli couldn’t look away.

It was a man.

A man so striking it almost didn’t look real.

White hair—not silver, not off-white, but pure white, soft and silky even in the faded print. It fell over his forehead in loose waves, slightly messy, like he never bothered to tame it.

And his eyes—

Bright yellow.

The same shade as Eli’s now, except sharper, more luminous, the kind of yellow that glowed even through an old photo.

Eli’s heart thudded painfully.

’They’re… the same color…?’

The man was smiling.

Not a polite smile.

Not a tight smile.

But the kind of open, brilliant smile that came from someone who laughed loudly and loved fiercely.

It lit up his whole face.

He looked young—mid to late twenties—wearing a white lab coat, sleeves rolled up, collar slightly crooked as if he’d been running around doing ten things at once.

There was a pen in his pocket. A faint stain of ink along his wrist. A scuff on his lab coat like he’d been leaning against a machine for hours without noticing or caring.

Alive.

Warm.

Bright.

The type of person who didn’t belong in a dungeon.

He seemed so… painfully, undeniably human.

Eli’s hands shook around the frame.

His throat tightened until it hurt.

Because for some reason—some stupid, inexplicable reason—his chest ached just looking at him for some reason.

Like something deep inside him recognized the smile, the eyes, the warmth—even though he was sure he had never seen this man in his entire life.

“…Who are you…?” Eli whispered, voice barely a breath. “Why were you in that dungeon…?”

It didn’t make sense.

No dungeon in recorded history had ever had a human inside it.

Dungeons held monsters.

Creatures.

Bosses.

Corrupted beasts.

But never people.

Sure, a human could enter a dungeon and die there.

But build a lab inside one? Live inside one? Remain long enough to leave behind machines, equipment, photos—Impossible.

As far as anyone knew, dungeons were random.

Ever-shifting.

Unstable.

Not places where humans stayed.

Lucien was proof enough of that.

Dying because he had been an anomaly left in a dungeon which exploded.

’So why would you be there…? For research? For a mission? For something else?’

His fingers hovered over the man’s face—just an inch above the cool, cracked glass—before he forced himself to pull the frame closer.

Then something caught his eye.

Something so small he almost missed it.

A name tag.

Pinned neatly to the lab coat.

Eli’s breath hitched.

He brought the frame even closer, the glass fogging with his breath.

He wiped the last bit of dust away with careful, trembling swipes.

Letters appeared.

Black.

Clean.

And Unmistakable.

And when he finished reading—

his entire body went cold.

’Holy shit.’

The name tag said:

ORION.

Eli’s vision wavered.

His heart lurched so hard it felt like it scraped against his ribs.

Orion.

The man in the photo.

The owner of the lab.

The person the serpent was mourning.

The name the serpent spoke with grief.

The name that shattered the system.

The name that echoed inside his mind like a memory that wasn’t his.

A single name linking them all.

ORION.

Eli’s grip tightened around the frame until his knuckles turned white.

That man.

That smile.

That impossible lab.

He was Orion.

But… who was Orion?

Was he connected to Elione?

Connected to the dungeons?

To the system glitch?

To the serpent’s strange loyalty?

To the way Eli kept hearing that name during moments of crisis?

This felt too pointed—too precise—to be a coincidence.

He had heard it from the serpent.

He had heard it inside the system.

He had even heard it inside memories that weren’t his—memories belonging to Elione Noa Ahn.

’So… was Orion Elione?’

Eli stared at the face again.

No.

The man was older.

He looked nothing like Elione.

Not even close.

Different hair.

Different face.

Different build.

And yet…

Something about him still made Eli’s chest ache.

Something about him still felt familiar.

’Why do I feel like I’m missing something hug—’

CLANK.

Eli’s entire body jolted.

“Huh…?”

The sound tore straight through the silence of the apartment—a sharp, heavy metallic crash, like pans hitting the floor. It came from the kitchen.The kitchen.

His heart lurched painfully.

For a second, he just sat there on the floor, frozen, fingers tightening unconsciously around the picture frame. His breath hitched, sticking in his throat.

He wasn’t alone.

He couldn’t be alone.

Slowly—terrifyingly slowly—he pushed himself up to his feet, the frame pressed against his chest like a shield. His palms were clammy. His legs felt weak.

The apartment was dark except for the soft glow of the city filtering through the windows. Shadows stretched long and uneven across the hall, twisting every corner into something unfamiliar.

He swallowed hard.

“Who’s there?!”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep