The torches flicker in the ancient ruin, casting long shadows across bloodstained stone.
The air reeks of ash, blood, and old metal.
Cracked statues of forgotten gods loom over a gathering of killers—monsters in human skin.
This isn't just a hideout.
It's the throne room of death.
---
Yao flicks his knife up and down lazily, sitting against a broken pillar with his feet kicked out like he owns the place.
His eyes dart toward the cliff edge, where a tall man watches the Dead Wastes in silence.
Yao (grinning):
"Oi, Kim! Still brooding over there?
What's wrong? You missin' mommy dearest?
Oh wait… didn't she burn to death while you were off playing hero?"
A stillness cuts the room.
Then—a blur.
Kim Hwan appears before him.
No flash. No warning.
Just pure, terrifying speed.
His long sword remains sheathed, but it's drawn just enough that Yao can feel the edge whispering to his skin.
Yao doesn't breathe.
A drop of sweat trails down his cheek.
Kim's eyes are void—cold, sharp, and inhuman.
Kim Hwan (quiet as death):
"Next time… you lose the tongue."
He turns without another word and walks back toward the cliff's edge.
The stone beneath Yao crumbles, fractured by the pressure of Kim's killing intent.
Yao (laughing nervously):
"Hohoho… damn! Thought I was gonna die there!
That freakin' sword massacre almost sliced me in two!
Even though we're in the same clan, huh?
Guess there's no lovey-dovey friendship around here—HAHAHAHA!"
---
Mae Lou, sitting with crossed legs on a bone throne, rolls her glowing violet eyes.
Mae Lou (icily):
"Shut your mouth, moron. Or you'll die faster because of that talkative mouth of yours."
Yao (smirking):
"Still cold as ever… and obsessed with Kim, huh?"
Mae's eyes flare, the torches around her dimming.
Mae Lou:
"Say another word, and I'll hollow your soul out."
---
Dao (calm, sharp):
"Silence, Yao. You talk too much."
Yao:
"Ehhh, see? That's why you're no fun at all, Dao! All blade, no jokes!"
---
Laughter echoes from the back of the ruin as the lesser-ranked hunters—still dangerous in their own right—begin to stir.
A woman in rusted red armor leans against the wall, sharpening a blade with a broken gemstone.
Vera Blight (B-Rank):
"Maybe if someone cut your tongue, Yao, I could finally get some sleep."
Yao:
"Ah, come on, Vera! You love the sound of my voice. Admit it."
She throws the blade—embedding it in the wall an inch from Yao's head.
Vera Blight:
"I love imagining you dead. That count?"
---
Further back, a man with a stitched-up face and long syringe-like claws dips a vial into a pool of black blood.
Dr. Arlen Voss (C-Rank):
"Please, everyone… don't kill each other yet.
I still need a few of your bodies for experimentation."
Yao:
"This guy. Always with the body parts. Creepy as hell, Doc."
Dr. Arlen (cheerfully):
"And yet I'm still alive, which means someone finds me useful."
---
A heavily tattooed man, skin like obsidian and arms crossed, speaks from a throne of skulls.
Grave (A-Rank Bruiser):
"You all talk too much. When are we getting orders?
Reid promised blood. Not bickering."
---
From the shadows, a hooded girl no older than 16 with mismatched eyes giggles to herself as she pets a leech-like creature squirming on her shoulder.
Luri (S-Rank Beast Tamer):
"They're coming. The new prey.
I can feel them crawling closer...
I wanna see their eyes go wide when I take their pets."
---
A soft laugh echoes—a chuckle like a razor across skin.
Kellan Graves (S-Rank Illusionist):
"Hehe… this place. So alive. So fragile.
I wonder what happens when we pull the strings too tight."
He leans against the cracked wall upside down, a distorted reflection of himself flickering beside him.
---
A rhythmic clink of metal echoes.
Asra Vayne (A-Rank Berserker) stands nearby, polishing her axes—her lips silently mouthing a poem.
Asra (softly):
"Red is the earth beneath my stride,
Steel in hand, death by my side..."
She stops.
Asra:
"Can we fight now?"
---
A soft hum of insects follows as Luca Fen (B-Rank Support) steps forward, vines twitching at his ankles and beetles crawling beneath his skin.
Luca:
"This land is sick.
I'll help it bloom again… in rot and toxin."
---
From a tunnel, something drags itself in the dark—gurgling and squelching.
Wretch (C-Rank Parasite User) hisses, his leech-covered face twitching with hunger.
Wretch:
"Feed… soon…"
---
Then—
A deep rumble silences them all.
The air shifts.
From a blackened doorway deeper in the ruins, a voice echoes—not loud, not sharp, but absolute.
???
"…You all seem restless."
They straighten.
One by one, even the most wicked fall quiet.
Because they know that voice.
From the darkness, steps a man with no aura, no visible energy—but presence.
A force that bends the room around him.
Reid Stone.
The name not written in any records.
No official rank.
No known type.
Just death, and fear.
His eyes glow faintly red, and a dark mark pulses on his hand.
Reid:
"The world has forgotten us. Buried us.
They think their towers make them gods…
Let's remind them who truly rules the abyss."
He raises a hand.
Behind him, thousands of rogue hunters, failed awakeneds, outcasts, war criminals, and monster-human hybrids kneel.
The true heart of the Dark Triad has begun to beat louder.
And it's only getting started.
---
To be continue...