Weee, I'm back! Did you miss me or just my story? 😘
As a welcome celebration, I'm gifting the first two readers a free first-tier membership! This gives you access to three advanced chapters of all my stories on Patreon.
Hehe, hope you're on PC to copy the link!
https://www.patreon.com/Mr_Graythorn/redeem/0BD30
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(Sunday, June 16, 2026 – 2:07 AM)
As Venin's severed finger crumbled into dust, the scent of burning poison filled the air. The eerie silence that followed lasted only a moment before the battlefield roared back to life. Adam stood firm, his presence now an undeniable force in the room, but others had already begun to move.
From the upper balcony, a shadow flickered. Petruccio Auditore, the Phantom of the Hunter Association, was already in motion. Unlike the others, he did not waste time processing the spectacle, his green eyes had already locked onto his priority. The buyer of the elixir.
In a blur of movement, he vanished from his spot, appearing mere meters away from the cloaked figure. His steps were soundless, his posture relaxed, yet his mana pulsed like a coiled viper ready to strike. The buyer remained still, their identity obscured beneath heavy fabric, but Petruccio could sense the tension radiating from them. They were no fool. They understood that the fight had escalated beyond mere competition.
"You chose a hell of a night to spend money." Petruccio murmured, his tone was light, almost teasing. But beneath his words was a silent promise, no harm would come to the buyer while he stood.
Meanwhile, across the hall, another presence made itself known.
Mattia Falcone stood from his seat, his towering frame casting a shadow over the broken remnants of the auction floor. His crimson eyes burned with intensity as he exhaled, a heavy sigh that carried both frustration and anticipation. He was not a man who enjoyed standing idle, especially not in the presence of traitors.
A Steel Fang guild member rushed to his side, carrying a massive, wrapped bundle. Without a word, Mattia reached for it, unraveling the thick cloth to reveal a monstrous greatsword. The weapon, nearly as tall as a man, gleamed under the auction house lights, its surface pulsing faintly with his mana.
His fingers curled around the hilt, testing the weight. Satisfied, he planted the tip against the ground, resting his palm atop the pommel. The air around him grew thick, heavy with an unspoken challenge. He was done watching.
From above, Petruccio smirked as he sensed Mattia's shift in stance. "Guess the storm's finally rolling in."
Then, the wall exploded.
(Sunday, June 16, 2026 – 2:09 AM)
The auction house stood frozen in stunned silence. Dust and debris drifted through the air as the remnants of the shattered wall settled across the floor. A massive figure stepped through the wreckage, each step causing the ground beneath him to crack. Boris Mikhailov, the Vodka Bear, emerged with a roaring laugh, his thick Russian accent carrying over the stunned crowd.
"Venin!" he boomed, waving a nearly empty vodka bottle in one hand. "Looks like you need a hand!" His sharp brown eyes locked onto the battlefield, taking in the swirling mana and the stunned expressions of the remaining combatants.
Venin barely acknowledged Boris, his venom-purple eyes narrowing behind his mask as he fixated on Adam. The loss of a finger meant nothing to him. Pain was an old companion, and his body had long since adapted to working through it.
What mattered was the entity before him. Adam Sen, or "The Saint" as he had introduced himself, had just become the most dangerous variable in this mission. Venin had been ordered to eliminate obstacles, and now he understood: Adam was the greatest threat to their success.
Without hesitation, Venin moved. His body blurred as he kicked off the floor, disappearing into a streak of motion aimed directly at Adam. His daggers, previously coated in a refined poison, now gleamed with a deeper, more lethal hue. The purple venom twisted unnaturally around the blades, pulsating like a living organism, eager to consume anything it touched.
Adam, already reading the attack, leaned slightly to the left, allowing Venin's first strike to carve through the empty space beside his face. Instead of retreating, he stepped forward, immediately limiting Venin's movement. His hand shot out, aiming to grasp Venin's wrist, but the assassin twisted midair, flipping backward to create space. As he landed, his foot scraped against the floor, leaving behind a sizzling blackened mark where his venom had dripped.
The moment his feet touched the ground, Venin lashed out again. His long, poison-drenched hair extended outward, forming serrated whips that slashed toward Adam in unpredictable arcs. Adam's eyes flickered as he analyzed the incoming attack. Instead of dodging outright, he manipulated the space directly around him. The air shimmered, and the whips lost their momentum inches before striking him, as if trapped in an invisible barrier.
Venin clicked his tongue, recognizing what had happened. Adam wasn't just manipulating space, he was folding it. His attacks were being halted in an infinite loop of compressed distance, unable to reach their intended target.
Venin adjusted instantly. He whipped his daggers forward, sending compressed poison waves in the form of crescent slashes, each one aimed to cut through the spatial distortions. The attacks rippled unnaturally as they met Adam's defenses, managing to distort his barrier just enough to force movement. Adam sidestepped, the venom narrowly missing him, its corrosive properties burning deep scars into the marble floor.
But Adam wasn't merely on the defensive.
His right hand flicked, and in an instant, the space between them collapsed. The distance vanished, and Adam was suddenly in front of Venin. A precise palm strike, reinforced with mana, slammed into Venin's chest. The impact sent the assassin skidding backward, his boots carving trenches into the ground. He twisted his body mid-slide, stabilizing himself before immediately retaliating, launching a rapid series of poisoned daggers directly at Adam's vital points.
Adam's perception slowed the world. His enhanced reflexes and combat analysis kicked in as he tracked each blade's trajectory. Instead of dodging in a predictable pattern, he used spatial flickers, making his body momentarily exist in multiple places at once. The daggers passed through harmless illusions before Adam reappeared unscathed, already closing the distance again.
Venin frowned beneath his mask. He was learning.
But Venin wasn't done. With a subtle flick of his fingers, the poison from his previous attacks didn't dissipate. Instead, the droplets on the ground vibrated, shifting and rising into the air, forming multiple dark spheres around the battlefield.
Then, they moved.
The spheres elongated, twisting into grotesque humanoid figures. Each construct, dripping with concentrated venom, solidified into Venom Sentinels, humanoid poison warriors wielding various cold weapons. Their forms pulsed with a sickly glow, and the very air around them became toxic, forcing those nearby to retreat as they emitted a continuous haze of lethal gas.
Their target? Petruccio Auditore.
From across the battlefield, Petruccio had been escorting the masked buyer toward the exit, weaving through the chaos with his signature speed. The buyer, still cloaked and silent, moved with urgency but relied entirely on Petruccio for protection. As the Venom Sentinels formed, they immediately surrounded him, cutting off his escape.
Petruccio clicked his tongue, his usual grin fading for a brief moment. "Well, this is a pain."
The sentinels wasted no time. The first one lunged with a curved blade, striking at the buyer's side. Petruccio intercepted, his dagger flashing as he deflected the attack. But the moment his blade made contact, a sharp sizzling sound filled the air.
Venin's poison was obviously extremely corrosive.
Even indirect contact was now hazardous. His constructs were evolving.
Petruccio exhaled, his grin returning as he assessed the situation. "Guess I'll have to get serious."
His mana surged outward, forming a protective veil around both himself and the buyer. The moment the toxic gas touched the barrier, it sizzled harmlessly against his aura. Still, he knew this wouldn't last forever. He needed to cut through them fast.
Meanwhile, Mattia Falcone had seen enough.
His crimson eyes burned as he watched Boris enjoy the spectacle, still holding his vodka bottle as if this were mere entertainment. The destruction, the innocent casualties, the audacity of the False Rankers operating so brazenly in Italy, it was all an insult.
Mattia spoke.
His voice rang through the battlefield, cutting through the noise with the weight of authority.
"Boris Mikhailov." he said, his tone sharp as steel. "You are a traitor to humanity."
Boris finally turned his attention away from the fight, his lips curling into an amused smirk. "And?"
Mattia took a step forward, his greatsword firmly gripped by him. The air around him crackled with a suffocating pressure, his mana manifesting as flickering red storms. The ground beneath his feet splintered as his power surged.
"I'm going to kill you."
Boris took a long sip from his bottle, wiped his mouth, then let out a booming laugh. "Finally! Someone with some fire!"
With that, the two S-Rank warriors charged at each other, the impact of their clash sending shockwaves through the battlefield.
Meanwhile, Adam and Venin continued their deadly exchange, their battle unfolding at speeds too fast for the average eye to follow. Every move, every counter, every calculated step was a display of pure battle IQ.
Adam was adjusting. Learning.
And Venin knew it.
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The hunters know the identity of the false rankers because:
First, they are not hiding their identity, especially Boris.
Second, the HA and the Powers Guild have records of suspects hunters.
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