Chapter 115: Refuse Their Offer.

“Oi, pack it up. We’re moving.”

The shout tore through the HDB block like a starting gun.

Doors flew open all along the corridor. Zippers hissed. Buckles snapped shut. Steel scraped against concrete as weapons were lifted, checked, and strapped into place. Voices rose from stairwells and neighboring units, overlapping with the restless noise of hurried preparation. Survivors stumbled out with half-packed duffel bags clutched to their chests. Hunters moved with colder efficiency, sorting monster cores, tightening armor straps, testing blades, checking rifles, and making sure nothing worth keeping got left behind.

The entire block felt alive in the ugliest way possible.

Not safe. Not settled. Just moving because standing still had become something only the dead could afford.

“Street level in ten,” the woman shouted again from the stairwell, her voice carrying from floor to floor. “Assigned groups only. Move your asses.”

On the sixteenth floor, the noise filtered through cracked walls and half-open windows in a constant, restless pulse. Inside one of the larger flats, however, Sato barely reacted.

He sat low on an old couch in the dim living room, one elbow braced against his knee, an emptying bottle of soda hanging loose between his fingers. The flat had once belonged to a family. That much was obvious from the faded cartoon stickers still clinging to a cabinet door, the cheap floral curtains tied back from the windows, and the framed photographs turned face-down along the shelves because no one wanted strangers staring into someone else’s life.

Sato took a slow drink and kept his eyes on the floor as if the chaos outside had nothing to do with him.

The bathroom door opened.

A young blonde woman stepped out, drying her hair with a towel. She wore a black crop top and olive cargo pants, her build lean and athletic, her movements clipped with the kind of energy that came from a mind that never quite stopped working. She crossed the room, sat on the rug by the coffee table, and flipped open the laptop waiting there.

“They contacted us again,” she said.

Sato grunted without looking up. “Nani ga iitai no?”

Tanya exhaled through her nose and pushed damp hair back from her face. “The new Singapore government has eight Herald Slayer title holders that they’ve confirmed, maybe more. Most of them are above level thirty-five.” Her fingers moved quickly over the keyboard. “They want us to join them.”

Sato scoffed against the rim of the bottle.

Tanya stopped typing and looked at him properly. Her blue eyes were sharp despite the fatigue under them. “They’re offering food, shelter, and resources for every hunter in the group. They said the survivors with us will be moved to a secure civilian location.”

Sato let the bottle drop loosely from his hand onto the floor beside the couch. It hit the rug, rolled once, and settled.

“Tanya,” he said, voice flat, “you trust them? These people with clean boots, polished floors, and enough spare time to make nice offers? They’re not trying to help us. They’re trying to absorb us. Strong hunters grow their influence. That’s all this is.”

She looked back at the screen, then at him again. “Or maybe they’re trying to survive the same way we are. Maybe they have something real to offer.”

“Drop it.”

Her jaw tightened.

“Refuse their offer,” Sato said. “That’s the answer.”

The flat door opened before Tanya could fire back.

A young Japanese man stepped inside, dressed in a dark long-sleeve shirt and fitted tactical pants, his movements fluid and economical, like a predator that had grown too used to slipping through danger. His knives were holstered horizontally across the small of his back.

He took one glance at the empty bottle on the floor, then at Sato.

“Boss.”

“Kenji,” Sato replied. “Anything?”

Kenji shook his head. “Nothing immediate on the streets. You were right. Stationing two Herald Slayers every five floors is enough to keep the smaller beasts from pushing too close. The bigger ones are still around, but they’re keeping their distance because of the numbers.”

Tanya turned in place. “Do you think they’ll follow us once we move?”

Kenji gave a slight, humorless smile. “They can try.”

Then his focus went back to Sato.

“The three Herald targets have been tracked and boxed in. Scouting teams positioned them far enough apart that the groups won’t overlap, but not so far that support becomes impossible. Two Herald Slayers per team, and the three hunters selected to claim the titles have already been assigned. Everyone else is packed and waiting on your word.”

Sato nodded once and rose from the couch.

“Good. I’ll be down in a minute.” He stretched, rolling his shoulders, then cracked his neck and knuckles in a clean series of sharp pops. “Also, have Maria and Claire bring Chloe up from the basement.”

Kenji bowed his head slightly. “Yes, boss.”

Then he was gone, slipping out as quietly as he had entered.

The door shut.

Tanya stood with her arms folded so tightly across her chest that the tension showed all the way up into her neck.

“What is it now?” Sato asked.

Her boot tapped once against the rug. Then again.

“Chloe?” she said. “You’re bringing the girl?”

Sato bent to retrieve his jacket from the arm of the couch. “Yes.”

“She’s a liability.”

“No, she isn’t.”

“Don’t do that,” Tanya snapped. “Don’t brush it off like I’m being dramatic.”

Sato slipped one arm into the jacket and turned away.

“Don’t walk away from me,” Tanya said, rising to her feet. “She tore an Elite Herald apart an hour ago. Since then, she’s locked herself in the basement and has been talking to herself. Not whispering. Not muttering. Talking. Arguing. You want me to pretend that’s normal?”

Sato turned back to face her, expression flat.

“Stop it. Chloe’s not a threat.”

Tanya stared at him, and when he didn’t say anything else, her frustration sharpened into anger.

“The low-level hunters are scared of her. The survivors won’t even look at her anymore. They think she’s one bad moment away from turning into the monster instead of killing it.” She took a step closer. “And the stronger hunters don’t trust her. Not on a hunt. Not when things go bad. They think she’ll snap.”

Sato shrugged fully into the leather jacket.

“Enough.”

Tanya let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “That’s it?”

He flexed one hand. Pale light shimmered around his hips, and twin katanas materialized in clean, silent flashes, one settling at either side like they had always belonged there.

“Maria’s with her,” he said. “Claire, too. They know how to handle her.”

Tanya’s laugh came out sharper this time. “Handle her? What exactly are they supposed to do if she loses control? Sing her to sleep?”

Sato lifted his gaze to hers. Calm. Hard. Unmoved.

“Then we deal with it when it happens.”

“That is a terrible plan.”

“It’s still the one I’ve got.”

Tanya stared at him for a long second, then shook her head in disgust. “You always do this. Every time it’s her, you stop seeing straight.”

That landed.

Only slightly, but enough.

Sato’s eyes narrowed just a fraction.

“Shitto shiteru no?” he asked.

Tanya’s mouth opened.

Then shut.

A small, sharp smirk cut across Sato’s face.

“If you want my attention that badly, come to the frontlines and hunt with me for once instead of hiding in the backline.” He rested a hand on one sword hilt. “Could use the company.”

Color rose faintly into her cheeks.

She scoffed. “In your dreams. I’m not dying because you mistake recklessness for strategy.”

Sato moved to the door and stopped with one hand on the frame. He glanced back over his shoulder, amusement cutting through the usual tired hardness in his eyes.

“I told you before,” he said. “I’d protect you.”

Then he stepped into the corridor.

The door clicked shut behind him.

A second later, his voice thundered down the hall.

“ALRIGHT, MOVE IT. IF YOU’RE NOT READY IN FIVE, EVERYONE’S DOING TWENTY PUSH-UPS.”

Tanya stood in the flat for three long seconds, staring at the closed door like she could burn through it with sheer irritation.

“Asshole,” she muttered. Then, with a deeper scowl, “Me jealous of that psycho? Please.”

She snatched up her gear and stormed out after him.

—

The stairwell of the HDB block was a river of bodies flowing downward.

Armor clanked. Backpacks rattled. Boots hammered against concrete in a steady, thundering rhythm as dozens of people descended at once, the smell of sweat, metal, and stale air thick in the enclosed space. Some moved fast, others dragged their feet, but all of them moved. To stay was to be left behind. To be left behind was to be dead.

Sato looked down the sixteenth floor and yawned, the sound stretching into a lazy growl as he pushed himself onto the ledge, looking down at the chaos of it all. He took a deep breath and took a step forward, letting himself fall from the railing. The wind roared past him. The ground came up fast. He pulled out one of his katanas and slammed it deep into the concrete walls, the impact echoing as the blades slowed his fall. In the final second, his momentum halted just as the tip of his toe almost hit the floor before he landed. The hunters around him didn’t flinch.

“Boss, Maria, and Claire are waiting downstairs by Chloe’s room. They want to talk.” Kenji said he stood right where he landed.

Sato’s eyes went wide, but he didn’t flinch. “Uwa, maji de bikkuri shita.” (Whoa, you scared the shit out of me.) He said calmly, as he pulled his katanas from the wall. “Lead the way.”

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