The bustling streets of Kyouka City were a strange juxtaposition—bright neon signs casting harsh light on weathered buildings, as the world tried to cling to some semblance of normalcy after The Eclipse. The event that had merged their reality with the dungeon dimension had left society in disarray. Shadowed hunters, those chosen by fate or misfortune, were both celebrated as heroes and scorned as scapegoats when things went wrong.
Kaito Hoshino walked through the crowded marketplace, his stomach growling at the tantalizing aroma of skewered meat sizzling on open flames. He glanced at his coin pouch, feeling its pitiful weight. A single coin, enough for either dinner or another night in his dilapidated room at the hunter's lodge. He sighed and turned away from the food stalls, the hunger gnawing at him as persistently as the doubts in his mind.
Kaito's jet-black hair fell in messy layers that framed his sharp, angular face. His storm-gray eyes—always scanning, always calculating—hinted at an intelligence buried beneath his easygoing demeanor. There was something inherently magnetic about him, a rugged handsomeness that contrasted with the weariness etched into his features. His lean, athletic frame bore the marks of someone who had scraped through life's challenges with sheer determination, his wiry strength a testament to years spent in survival mode.
"Just one more job," Kaito muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible over the marketplace din. He passed a reflective window and caught a glimpse of the violet mark etched over his heart—a reminder of the moment his life had changed forever. Not that it mattered much when he was still stuck doing low-tier jobs in a system designed to chew people like him up and spit them out.
The guild's notice board loomed ahead, cluttered with bounty posters and dungeon clear requests. Kaito scanned the entries, looking for something—anything—within his skill level. Most of the jobs were out of his league, requiring high-ranking teams or solo hunters with proven track records. And then he saw it: "Emerald Cavern – Low-tier Dungeon – 200 Silver Coins Reward."
"Low-tier, huh?" Kaito muttered, his lips curling into a faint, bitter smile. "Just my speed."
He tore the notice from the board and approached the guild receptionist, a stern woman in her fifties who barely glanced up from her ledger. She stamped the request with a mechanical motion, her attention fixed on her notes.
"Be careful out there," she said, her tone devoid of concern. "Low-tier doesn't mean no danger."
Kaito offered a sarcastic salute and turned to leave, the notice clenched tightly in his hand. Outside the guild, he paused to study the city skyline. Somewhere in the distance, beyond the towering buildings and neon lights, a dungeon gate pulsed faintly, a reminder of the ever-present threat that loomed over their world.
On his way to the dungeon, he stopped by a small, ramshackle gear shop. The shopkeeper, an old man with a thick beard and a permanent scowl, greeted him with a grunt.
"What can I get for you, kid?"
"Anything that won't fall apart in my hands," Kaito replied, tossing his last coin on the counter. It wasn't enough for much, but the old man gave him a rusty sword and a half-empty potion vial with a shrug.
"Good luck," the shopkeeper said. "You'll need it."
As Kaito approached the shimmering portal to Emerald Cavern, the weight of his choices pressed heavily on him. He tightened his grip on the hilt of his battered sword, his storm-gray eyes reflecting both determination and exhaustion. Little did he know, this dungeon would be unlike anything he'd ever faced.
The dim glow of the dungeon gate pulsed like the slow beat of a dying heart. Kaito stepped through, and the world shifted. The air grew colder, the light dimmer. Shadows stretched unnaturally across the walls, whispering secrets only they could understand.
The dungeon's first few chambers were standard fare—traps he'd seen a dozen times before, low-level monsters barely worth the effort. But as Kaito delved deeper, an unsettling feeling gnawed at the edges of his mind.
In the heart of the dungeon, he found it—a relic, gleaming faintly with an unearthly light. His breath caught in his throat. This was it, the breakthrough he'd been dreaming of. But as his fingers brushed against the artifact, the ground beneath him trembled violently.
The air grew colder, and from the darkness emerged a towering beast, its eyes burning like molten gold. Its claws scraped against the dungeon walls, sending echoes of dread reverberating through the chamber. Kaito's instincts screamed at him to run, but his feet refused to move.
The fight was over in moments. His blade shattered against the beast's hide, and with a single swipe of its monstrous claws, Kaito was sent sprawling. Blood pooled beneath him as his vision blurred, the cold seeping into his bones.
Yet, as the darkness closed in, a voice—low, ancient, and filled with power—whispered in his mind. *"You are not done yet, Shadowed one. Rise."*
A searing pain burned across Kaito's chest as the mark on his heart erupted in violet light. His wounds closed, his shattered blade transformed into something darker, deadlier. Shadowfang was born, and with it, so was Kaito's second chance.
As Kaito stood, his hair shimmered, turning from jet-black to a brilliant white. His storm-gray eyes burned with cold fury as shadows swirled around him, answering his call. The beast roared, but this time, Kaito didn't flinch.
"Alright," Kaito said, his voice low and brimming with newfound confidence. A smirk played on his lips. "Let's try that again."
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