In the midst of utter darkness, humanity always possesses something that time, power, or suffering can never steal—hope. It is small, fragile, and often seems meaningless, yet it is precisely this fragility that makes it so precious. For when everything collapses, it is hope that whispers: tomorrow still exists.
Despair may steal strength, paralyze the heart, and make one wish to surrender. Yet strangely, it is in those very moments that humans discover courage they never knew they possessed. As if darkness itself were a stage where light learns how to be born.
So long as humans still breathe, so long as eyes still gaze at the sky despite their wounds, hope will always live on. Thin, faint, yet real—waiting for the moment it transforms into a force capable of shaking the world.
They cling desperately to whatever hope they can find.
The strong forge hope from despair.
The weak wait for salvation.
Tonight, a glimmer of long-awaited hope arrived for the people kidnapped by the Whiro Familia.
*BAM!*
Suddenly, in the middle of this sinful little city, a loud explosion disrupted the rhythm of depravity. A small crater formed in the settlement, sand and dust flying everywhere, obscuring vision and making people cough.
"What happened?!"
"Something fell!"
"Could it be a meteor?"
"Idiot! If it were a meteor, we'd all be dead already!"
Confusion and curses mixed together. Everyone turned toward the source of the disturbance—including Whiro himself, still seated upon his throne of bones, his faint smile fading slightly, replaced by curiosity.
From behind the curtain of dust, a pair of glowing blue eyes—beautiful as a clear sky yet cold as ice—stared back at them. A few seconds later, the dust gradually cleared, revealing Charlie standing tall in the center of the crater, completely unharmed.
"A human? So what fell was just a teenage boy?"
"He fell from the sky and isn't hurt at all?"
Several people immediately lowered their guard upon seeing Charlie unarmed and appearing so young.
"Tch tch tch… Such a handsome boy. Don't anyone move—he's mine!"
One of Whiro Familia's executives, Grab—a Level 3 adventurer known for his preference for men—eyed Charlie with a wolfish gleam. With a wide, lustful grin, he stepped forward, completely ignoring any potential danger.
"Don't be afraid, kid. I'll take good care of you~ Just don't break too quickly, okay?"
The other members of Whiro Familia merely watched, treating this as extra entertainment before their next round of atrocities. Some had already started betting on how long Charlie would last.
"So there are rainbows (LGBT) in this world too? This is the first time I've seen one in person."
Glancing at Grab with disgust, Charlie had no intention of letting the man touch him.
Without hesitation, he activated Spirit Arts and stomped his right foot onto the ground.
*SWISH!* *SWISH!* *SWISH!*
Instantly, dozens of sharpened, steel-hard earthen spikes erupted from the ground, launching in rapid succession toward Grab at astonishing speed.
Even a Level 1 adventurer was considered superhuman compared to an ordinary person—let alone Grab, a Level 3. His reaction speed was actually fast. But due to carelessness and underestimating his opponent, combined with the sheer number of spikes coming from multiple angles, he failed to dodge them all.
*PU-CHI!* *PU-CHI!* *PU-CHI!*
Horrific sounds of flesh being pierced echoed. The earthen spikes impaled Grab's body from various angles—chest, abdomen, thighs, even one through his throat. His body was lifted and pinned to several spikes like a broken doll, fresh blood splattering onto the surrounding sand. The sharp scent of iron-rich blood quickly filled the air.
"..."
The atmosphere fell into deadly silence.
All mocking expressions and amusement froze on the faces of the Evilus members. Those who had been cheering now stared in horror at Grab's lifeless body, skewered like an insect in a collection.
Their gazes slowly shifted to the white-haired youth, whose expression remained utterly blank—as if he had just swatted a mosquito, not killed a Level 3 adventurer.
Inside the cages, the captives stood stunned. The monster who had terrorized them was dead so easily. Especially the young girls—whose hearts pounded fiercely at the sight of their savior, a strikingly handsome young man.
"Don't just stand there dreaming! This guy's dangerous! Attack him together!"
The harsh, furious voice of Gojek, another Level 3 executive, shattered the terrifying silence. His rough shout snapped the dazed Evilus members back to reality. They quickly grabbed their weapons, eyes filled with madness and rage.
"Take this!"
"Die!"
Realizing Charlie might be a dangerous mage after witnessing the earlier earth attack, they chose to strike from a distance.
*SWISH!* *SWISH!* *SWISH!*
Poison-tipped arrows, spears, javelins, and poisoned daggers flew rapidly toward Charlie. Even instant-fire magic like Bell Cranel's Firebolt was launched.
After all, Firebolt wasn't a high-tier spell, but a fairly common one. The reason it seemed impressive in Bell's hands was due to the amplification effect of his Argonaut skill.
"..."
Yet, amidst this deadly barrage, Charlie simply stood still. His body didn't move an inch, as if frozen in fear.
*BOOM!* *CRASH!* *SWISH!*
Explosions, impacts, and hissing flames filled the air. Dust and smoke rose high, obscuring Charlie from view.
Several seconds passed. The dust began to settle.
"...That's all?"
Charlie's voice sounded calm—almost bored. From within the smoke, he stood upright, completely unharmed. The only change was his cloak, slightly torn in places from fire sparks or weapon slashes.
"...?!"
The Evilus members froze in shock. Their eyes widened in disbelief. Their ranged attacks hadn't left a single scratch on the youth.
Charlie wasn't wearing armor. His defense didn't come from conventional protective gear, but from something far superior: Armor of Fafnir, a conceptual defense that rendered him immune to all physical and magical attacks below Rank B. Clearly, their attacks were far too weak to breach the upper limit of Armor of Fafnir's durability.
"Who are you? What is your purpose?"
Maxim, the captain of Whiro Familia—muscular, scarred, and imposing—finally spoke. His deep, authoritative voice carried caution.
With his Level 4 strength, he was wise enough to realize they were facing a formidable opponent.
"..."
Charlie looked at Maxim with icy indifference, as if regarding a mere pest.
"Trash that can't be recycled doesn't deserve to know my name." He replied dismissively.
Maxim snorted in irritation, his face twisting with annoyance. "Hmph! Arrogant bastard. I admit you're strong, but this is Whiro Familia's base. There's no way you can fight us all alone!"
He raised his massive broadsword high into the air—the signal. "Show him how terrifying the Whiro Familia truly is!"
"OOOHHHHHH!"
A wild, thunderous roar erupted, filled with the typical madness of psychopaths. The Evilus members, driven by their hunger for chaos, surged forward like a tidal wave.
Swords, axes, clubs, and claws swung toward Charlie. They swarmed him, trying to bury him beneath numbers and brutality.
But Charlie simply stared coldly ahead, ready to exterminate these vermin down to their very roots.