Akira exhaled slowly, his fingers curling into fists. "Damn it…" His mind raced, torn between the urge to lash out and the need to keep his cool. "This just got complicated. And now she's standing there, looking at me like she already knows everything. How much does she know? How much did Cha-Jong tell her?"
He hadn't known Cha-Jong had gone as far as calling the others to stop him. Not to support him. Not to accompany him. But to stop him—at all costs.
Maybe… maybe Yuna had been scared when she saw him leave and told her father. It was the only explanation that made sense.
Before he could find the right words, Sylara's cold, piercing voice cut through the tension.
"Well?" Her violet eyes gleamed in the dim dungeon light. "I'm waiting, Akira."
He parted his lips to speak—
But before the words could leave his mouth—BOOM!
The right wall shattered, debris exploding into the air. From within, multiple figures stepped out.
First came Grido, his crimson cloak billowing as he strode forward, his eyes scanning the battlefield with a sharp, calculating gaze. Behind him—fourteen elite STARS, each radiating immense power, their very presence distorting the air. And at the center—Cha-Jong.
His expression was twisted with urgency, his eyes immediately locking onto Akira.
"AKIRA!" In a blur of movement, Cha-Jong rushed forward, appearing before Akira fast. "Are you okay?! Did anything happen to you?!"
Akira blinked, caught off guard. Then, his dark eyes turned cold. He straightened his back.
"...No." His voice was distant. Detached.
Nothing bad had happened. Not physically. But something inside him… something deeper than wounds ached.
Cha-Jong had spied on him. He hadn't called the others to protect him. He hadn't called them to help him. He had called them to stop him. At all costs.
Akira clenched his fists.
"You knew," he thought bitterly. "You knew how much I loathe the demonic humans. You knew what this meant to me." His dark eyes met Cha-Jong's. There was no anger. No hatred. Only disappointment—a weight heavier than any blade.
Cha-Jong's lips parted slightly—but he didn't speak. He couldn't. Because the truth—the real reason he had stopped Akira—was not something he could say. He was afraid. Afraid of what lurked inside Akira. Afraid of the disaster that thing could bring. But he kept that fear hidden, burying it behind silence.
Then—
Sylara's calm, commanding voice sliced through the moment.
"The dungeon is clear."
Grido's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"
She tilted her head toward the battlefield, where the massive corpse of the Troll King still lay. "That thing over there," she said, her tone casual but sharp, "was the boss of this place."
Silence.
The weight of her words crashed onto the gathered STARS like a hammer.
"...And he killed it." She motioned toward Akira.
Shock erupted. Murmurs. Disbelief.
"Wait, wait, wait—" one of the STARS spoke up, his brows furrowed. "You're telling me—this kid soloed the boss of this evolved dungeon?!"
"The same dungeon that wiped out Captain Imzar's entire party?!" another added, his voice wary.
"What about the demonic human?" a third STAR asked, his eyes scanning the battlefield. "Don't tell me he defeated him too—"
Sylara cut in. "He's not here." A shadow crossed her expression. "I searched the dungeon after entering. I didn't find him then, and I don't see him now. Either he left… or he's still hiding." Her voice sharpened. "They're too unpredictable to assume anything."
One of the STARS scoffed, shaking his head. "He doesn't even have a single injury." His gaze flickered between Akira and the Troll King's corpse. "Are you really expecting me to believe all this?"
"Bullshit," another muttered under his breath.
But the evidence was undeniable. The Troll King—a monster that should have taken a team to take down—lay dead at Akira's feet. And he was still standing. No wounds. No exhaustion. Just… a quiet power radiating from him.
Sylara smirked, her lips curling with a mix of amusement and challenge. "Guess we underestimated the true strength of our 'outside agent,' huh?"
Grido crossed his arms, staring hard at Akira. "I never have, though." There was something else in his gaze. Something unreadable.
Then—
Sylara turned back to the STARS, her voice returning to its usual sharp, no-nonsense tone. "Enough standing around. The exit portal is open. Gather all the magic stones you can before it closes. We have one hour."
The STARS snapped into action, dispersing into the dungeon.
But Akira—
Akira didn't move. He stood still, his dark eyes lingering on Cha-Jong for a moment longer. There were no words left to exchange—only the rapid pace of his thoughts.
"If Sylara searched the dungeon and found nothing, and Grido's team didn't encounter anything either..." His mind raced, piecing together the fragments of what he knew. "The Troll King said he refused him. That demonic human… he must have left the dungeon long before I even arrived. He's not here anymore. I should leave before she asks any more questions."
Then—without another glance, Akira turned—walked alone toward the dungeon's exit. His footsteps echoed in the silence.
Behind him, the STARS were already gathering the magical stones, their whispers fading into the background.
Then—
A firm grip wrapped around his wrist.
"Please—" Cha-Jong's voice was urgent. "Can I explain myself?"
Akira stopped. His dark eyes flickered down to the hand holding him. Then, slowly—he turned his head slightly. His face was unreadable.
"Sure I want one too." His voice was calm. Almost too calm.
Cha-Jong exhaled, relief flashing in his eyes. "Okay." He forced a small smile. "Let's go to the house first. Change, wash yourself… then we'll talk." He hesitated. "Please come even Yuna… she's been so worried about you."
Akira remained still for a moment. Then, with a slow nod he continued to walk.As they moved toward the exit, a voice called out.
"Shoto Akira."
Sylara.
Akira stopped again, turning just enough to meet her piercing violet gaze.
"Tomorrow, come to my office. We have something to discuss."
"Tch." Akira scoffed, his hands slipping into his pockets. His expression turned sharp. "Sure, I'll come." His tone was edged with irritation. "And while we're at it, I'll recommend something to you don't stick your nose too much into my business."
Cha-Jong stepped forward, his voice tense. "Please, sto—"
Sylara's gaze narrowed, but she remained silent, allowing him to speak. Akira continued, his voice low. "Oh, before I go, I almost forgot to mention… I buried Captain Imzar's party members."
Sylara's eyes flickered.
Akira tilted his head slightly. "It's better to retrieve them and give them a proper funeral."
For a moment, there was silence. Then—Sylara nodded. "Thank you. I'll take care of that." She turned to two of her STARS and ordered them to search and retrieve the bodies.
As he walked off, Sylara's smirk lingered, but her eyes betrayed a flicker of curiosity—and perhaps a hint of respect. She watched him go, her arms crossed, before turning back to her guild members.
But unnoticed by the others…
In the dimly lit depths of the dungeon…
A lone figure moved among the ruins.
His face remained mostly obscured—hidden beneath a low hood. Only his mouth was visible. A wide, twisted grin stretched across his lips.
His fingers curled around a magical stone, his grip almost trembling with excitement. A low, eerie chuckle rumbled from his throat.
"Hahahaha…" His shoulders shook with barely contained laughter. "Fools." His voice dripped with amusement. His eyes—hidden beneath his hood—glinted with something dark and red.
"They didn't even notice me." The grin widened. His fingers tightened around the stone as he shifted his gaze toward the exit.
"Now… I can leave this place—without a single suspicion." His lips curled, flashing sharp, white teeth.
His mind replayed the scene—their ignorance, their blind focus on Akira. They never even realized.
He lifted a bloodied hand, watching the crimson liquid drip onto the dungeon floor. The blood of the Sylara Guild member who had entered with Grido—the one he had killed. The memory of it played vividly in his mind: the STAR had been alone, distracted, scanning the area for magical stones. It had been so easy. A single, precise strike to the throat, silencing him before he could even scream. The look of shock on the man's face as he crumpled to the ground had been… delicious.
He had hidden the body deep within the dungeon, far enough that no one would stumble upon it in time. A perfect disappearance.
His laughter grew louder—though still low enough to avoid detection.
"Ahh… how beautiful." His voice was a whisper, dripping with malice. "They'll never know what happened. Not now… because now… I wear his face."
He reached up, brushing his fingers against the stolen features he now bore—a perfect replica of the dead STAR. The disguise was flawless, the magic of his kind allowing him to mimic not just the appearance, but the voice, the mannerisms, even the faint scent of the man he had killed.
"Hahahaha…" His laughter echoed faintly, swallowed by the shadows of the dungeon. "They'll never see it coming. Not until it's far too late."