Chapter 67: [PHENOMENON]

’This is bad. This is so fucking bad.’

Reporters shouted over one another, their voices a barrage of desperation and fear.

“Mr. Midas, has this ever happened in history?!”

“Mr. Midas, please tell us the cause of this! Is this connected to the tears?!”

“Mr. Midas—please, give us an answer!”

Flash after flash lit up the street, the pulsing gate at the center casting a grotesque glow across the chaos. Its distorted light painted the gathered crowd in flickering shades of violet and red, shadows dancing like restless spirits.

Midas raised a hand. For a brief second, he inhaled—his chest swelling slow and heavy, shoulders tightening. Punzo caught it. That quiet moment, that faint hesitation.

And then the mask returned.

The infamous smile spread across his face, perfectly practiced, perfectly calm. Wrinkles curved just enough at the corners of his eyes to sell sincerity. His voice rolled out smooth, warm, reassuring—despite the raw panic bleeding in the air.

“Right now,” Midas said, steady and composed, “we are investigating this phenomenon. As you can see, I have brought my team of experts. Rest assured—the Hunter Association is on top of everything.” He gestured subtly to the suited figures behind him, their expressions unreadable.

“But, for safety, we ask that everyone step back. Clear the area in case…” He let the pause hang, just long enough to stir dread. “…an explosion happens.”

The crowd rippled. Gasps, murmurs, the kind of sound that always followed the word explosion.

“An explosion?” Jabby’s whisper cracked through Punzo’s ears. Her pale hands trembled at her sides, her orange eyes wide as she stared at the thrumming gate. “S-So Caelen could die?”

“Shh,” Arman murmured from behind her. He pulled her close, his arm firm around her shoulders as though anchoring her to the earth. His voice was low, certain—but strained at the edges. “No. He’s not going to die. We all know Caelen.”

Punzo’s jaw clenched, eyes narrowing at the gate that pulsed like a living heart, its veins stretching wider with every beat.

’Where are you, Caelen?’

It had been two hours.

Two long, suffocating hours since Caelen Ryu and Elione Noa Ahn stepped into what was supposed to be an easy A-Class dungeon.

At first, nothing seemed wrong. Hunters entered gates all the time; two hours wasn’t unusual. But then—

The gate shook.

Not gently. Not subtly. The entire ground around it buckled, sending cracks splitting through the pavement. Shockwaves rattled windows.

Street lamps bent from the tremors. People staggered back as the oval of warped light pulsed violently, its hue flickering from blue to violet to an ugly, blood-red.

And then it began to grow.

Like something inside was pushing from the other side, the edges of the gate stretched wider, tearing reality open. Light bled outward, swallowing shadows, until the once-stable A-Class gate warped into the towering size of an S-Class.

The crowd erupted into chaos.

Reporters screamed questions into cameras, their microphones shaking in white-knuckled grips. Parents grabbed children and dragged them away.

Some reckless bystanders even started recording, their phones trembling as they zoomed in on the monstrous distortion.

Caelen’s team had frozen in collective horror.

Arman’s hand flew to his ear, his voice sharp, desperate. “Zacharias—this isn’t normal! The gate—it’s… it’s changing!”

Static crackled before their guild master’s voice cut in, deep and commanding. “Calm down. Don’t spread panic. I’ll inform the Association. Stay put and don’t let anyone cross the perimeter.”

But reassurance didn’t last.

Because within minutes, a convoy of black vehicles screeched into the street.

Out stepped Midas Ryu himself.

The air shifted instantly. Guards in black combat gear fanned out, erecting barricades, barking orders to push reporters back. Scientists and researchers in Association uniforms unloaded bulky machines, their strange instruments humming and scanning the throbbing gate.

And at the center of it all—Midas.

His presence alone stilled the air. He stood tall, immaculate as ever, his calm smile painted perfectly into place. To most of the world, he was the pillar of security, the genius behind the Hunter system, the man who always had the answers.

“Excuse me… let me through… let me—fuck.”

The voice cracked through the chaos like a whip, deep and commanding.

Punzo’s head snapped up, his pulse skipping. He didn’t need to see who it was. That tone—unyielding, furious—was unmistakable.

“Move!”

Reporters stumbled back as a wall of presence tore through them.

Zacharias Kim—Guild Master of Lion’s Fang—cut a path through the crowd like a blade through paper. His broad frame was unshakable, shoulders squared as he shoved past anyone too slow to move.

The neon glare of the gate carved harsh lines across his face, sharpening every feature into thunder.

His expression wasn’t just anger—it was fury buried under control, the kind that could ignite at the smallest spark.

“Guild Master!” Punzo called, breaking into a run. Jabby and Arman surged beside him, relief flickering across their pale, exhausted faces.

Zacharias’ molten-orange eyes locked on them. “Status.”

His voice was a blade’s edge—clipped, cold, leaving no room for wasted words.

Punzo straightened despite the sweat slicking his neck, forcing steadiness into his tone. “Still nothing. No contact, no signal. The gate… it rejects anyone who tries to enter. It’s sealed.”

Jabby’s voice cracked, high and trembling. “We’re getting worried.” Her fists clenched around her own sleeves, eyes wide, shimmering dangerously with tears.

“Tch.” The sharp click of Zacharias’ tongue cut her off. His jaw tightened as his glare shifted back to the gate, its violet-red glow pulsing like a diseased heart.

’It looks so…terrifying.’ And he has seen multiple S-Class gates.

Without another word, Zacharias strode forward, each step like a hammer against the concrete.

Punzo, Jabby, and Arman followed close, weaving through the barricades and pushing past clusters of Association staff until they reached the storm’s eye.

Midas Ryu.

The man stood at the center of the chaos as though he belonged to another world. Guards surrounded him, scientists scrambled with machines that screamed red warnings, but Midas—Midas was untouchable.

His immaculate suit caught the glow of the warped gate, yet he stood perfectly composed, his hands folded loosely behind his back. Reporters shrieked questions at the barricades, their voices frantic, but Midas only raised a calm hand as if soothing children.

The contrast was maddening.

Zacharias stopped directly in front of him, his presence clashing against Midas’ in a silent battle of gravity. His voice came rough but measured. “Sir. With respect—tell me this isn’t real. An A-Class mutating into… that? How the hell is that possible?”

Midas turned his head with practiced ease, his warm, rehearsed smile settling neatly into place. “My team is investigating as we speak.”

He gestured casually to the researchers, their fingers flying over scanners that wailed louder with every passing second. “It is unusual, yes. But we will uncover the cause. Rest assured.”

Zacharias’ scowl darkened, his jaw grinding hard enough Punzo swore he could hear the teeth scrape. “The Association already blames us for the tears. Now another phenomenon happens on our ground?” His voice dropped, harsher, bitter, a low growl only those near could hear. “You know how this looks.”

Midas didn’t so much as blink. The smile never faltered, his tone infuriatingly steady. “You’re wondering if this connects to the tears? Perhaps. That is a possibility.”

Punzo stiffened. His gut twisted into a knot.

Zacharias leaned closer, voice dipping into a rasp meant for no one but the air between them. “Caelen aside… Elione Ahn is still in there. If he dies—we’re finished.”

Punzo’s chest tightened.

His pink eyes snapped back to the gate. The warped oval churned and bled light across the street, ugly violet-red, like the glow of fresh blood under glass. Every pulse throbbed louder than his heartbeat, heavier than his breath.

And the thought carved itself into his skull like a brand.

There were too many things on the line right now.

Lion’s Fang was already under fire—dragged into every headline for being involved with the dungeon explosion that had caused the tears.

And now?

Caelen Ryu, their only S-Class anchor, was inside this dungeon—with only one hunter at his side. If Caelen died here, the guild would collapse overnight.

Their reputation, their power, everything.

And worse—the only hunter with him was Elione Noa Ahn. The only son of one of the richest men in Korenea.

If both of them died… Lion’s Fang wasn’t just finished. They’d be buried.

“We should’ve gone with him.” Punzo muttered under his breath, voice shaking despite the anger in it. His fists were clenched tight, his nails digging into his palms.

“There wasn’t anything we could do.” Arman’s tone was calm, but his hand pressed firmly onto Punzo’s shoulder, steady, grounding. “You know Caelen doesn’t take no for an answer. There’s no way we could’ve anticipa—”

“Wait—look!” Jabby’s voice cracked like glass, shrill with panic. Her trembling finger shot toward the gate. “S-Something’s happening!”

The warped portal convulsed, its colors writhing violently—violet bleeding to crimson, then back again. A low hum rattled through the ground, rising into a deep, throbbing pulse.

Punzo snapped his head toward it, his chest locking tight.

“Everyone look alive!” Midas’ voice boomed over the panic, sharp and commanding. His hand raised high, his expression still maddeningly calm. “If there’s any sign of an explosion—run!”

But the reporters didn’t move. Their cameras only surged higher, flashes strobing, recording every flicker of light. They were vultures in the storm, blind to danger as long as they smelled a headline.

Zacharias’ jaw tightened, his molten-orange eyes locked on the gate, unblinking. Every muscle in his body was coiled, his hand twitching toward the hilt of his weapon.

Punzo’s heart was pounding too hard, every thud like a hammer against his ribs. Sweat slicked his palms. His throat was bone-dry.

Then his eyes widened. His breath caught.

Through the twisted glow—

A silhouette.

Slow. Heavy. Walking out of the light as if dragging the world behind it.

“Wait—” Punzo choked, his voice breaking. “It’s…”

The figure stepped closer, golden cracks glowing across battered skin.

“It’s Caelen!”

And in his arms…

“Elione?”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep