In the scorched plains of the underworld, pain had a name. It crawled. It bled. It screamed.
Oben — once a war criminal in life, now a cursed soul in death — dragged his broken, smoldering body across jagged stone. His limbs barely clung to his frame, torn and twisted, leaving a trail of gore behind him. The flesh on his back bubbled as he pulled himself inch by inch toward a swirling green portal pulsing deep in the dark earth.
Chains rattled across his torso, still trying to drag him back into the abyss.
But the underworld was losing its grip.
Oben reached the portal's edge and, with one final desperate groan, hurled himself through.
The moment he crossed into the mortal world, the sky cracked above like shattered glass. Winds howled. Birds vanished. Though still wracked with agony — wounds open and shadows oozing — he looked up at the stars and howled with unrestrained joy.
"I'm finally free!"
Back at the Phantom Hunters Institute, George paced restlessly in front of a holographic briefing table. A week had passed since his induction, but it felt like he had aged a year.
He'd lived and trained at the Institute every day since, while his family recovered in the hospital. Physically, he was stronger than ever. Spiritually, he had unlocked the first layers of Lixar control. But uncertainty still lingered, gnawing at the edges of his mind.
And now… his first real hunt.
Chairman Lawrence stood beside Saya, arms folded. His expression was unreadable, but George knew — this was no simple scouting run.
"Saya," Lawrence said, "take him with you. It's time."
George swallowed hard.
"First mission, huh?" he muttered, trying to keep nerves from his voice. "No pressure."
"You've trained well," Saya replied calmly. "You're ready."
"I hope you're right."
A tall man entered — lean and athletic, his presence effortless and composed. Dark hair slicked back, his uniform marked with the A+ Hunter insignia. His name: Ryan.
"Yo," Ryan greeted casually, flashing a grin. "So you're the new blood."
George extended a hand. "George."
"Hope you can keep up, rookie."
They clasped hands. In that instant, George felt a pressure — as if Ryan's spiritual energy flexed just enough to test him.
He's not just confident… he's dangerous.
"Don't let him intimidate you," Saya said with a smirk. "He shows off every chance he gets."
Ryan winked. "Only when I'm paired with the serious types."
They stepped into the night. George mounted Saya's motorcycle like he had a few times before. The cool night air was charged with something darker — an aura he could now sense with clarity.
Ryan casually rolled a matte-black skateboard under his feet.
George raised an eyebrow. "You're serious?"
Before he could ask more, Saya revved her bike, and in a flash of compressed Lixar, they vanished into speed. George barely had time to register it before Ryan blurred into motion, his skateboard gliding across the asphalt at the same pace as the bike — enhanced by Ko.
Okay… that's insane.
They arrived at Mystic Town just as the moon pierced through a veil of dark clouds. Their destination loomed ahead: an abandoned five-story commercial building, its windows shattered long ago, flickering with unnatural green light. Strange noises echoed within — cracks, growls, and whispers that did not belong in the world of the living.
Saya dismounted. Ryan kicked his board up into his hand.
George stared up. "So this is it…"
Saya nodded. "Reports started two days ago. Locals say the lights flicker, walls bleed, and some claim voices call their names."
George frowned. "Sounds like textbook Phantom behavior."
"Exactly," Ryan said. "Best case: residual spiritual activity. Worst case: we've got company."
George looked at Ryan. "Back there — how did you keep up with us on that skateboard?"
Ryan chuckled. "Ko, obviously. You can apply Lixar to more than your body. I use it on my board. Saya uses it on her bike. It's about channeling."
George nodded slowly. "Didn't know you could enhance objects with Ko."
"Stick around long enough," Ryan said with a grin, "you'll see people do wild things with Lixar."
Saya stepped forward and activated Rei. A soft glow pulsed from her skin and spread outward in a wide radius. Her eyes closed as she scanned.
"There are six," she said calmly. "All B-Class. Two on each level."
"I'll take the top," she added. "Ryan, middle. George… you're on the bottom."
George's heart thumped.
This was real. No sparring. No dummies. No simulations.
Real phantoms. Real risk.
"Got it," he said, hiding his nerves.
Ryan gave him a thumbs-up. "Don't die, rookie."
Saya nodded. "Trust your training. And use Rei."
The three split up — Saya leapt to the roof in one bound, while George and Ryan entered through the ground floor.
The air inside was thick, smelling of burnt ash and mildew. George's Rei stretched outward, flickering with tension.
He felt them.
Two presences.
Moving fast. Too fast.
Then —
The wall behind him exploded.
Two towering, flaming green phantoms burst into the hallway. Eight feet tall, skeletal frames wreathed in shadowy flames, jagged limbs, hollow mouths.
One swung its massive arm like a wrecking ball.
George activated Gill instinctively. His body shimmered with a soft Lixar veil just as the strike landed.
He blocked it — but the force knocked him back several feet, skidding across the floor.
The second phantom lunged from behind, claws gleaming.
Too close!
George twisted, channeling Ko into his legs, launching himself forward in a blur. He reappeared behind the creature and pivoted, driving Ko into both fists.
Like boxing gloves made of raw power, his Lixar-coated hands crashed into the phantom's gut. It screeched and was thrown back into a steel beam.
The first charged again.
George ducked under its arm, slid to the side, and countered with a spinning kick enhanced by Ko.
His foot connected with a crunch — sending the creature flying across the room.
It slammed into the wall, cracked it, and burst into flame.
The second, barely rising, hissed once more before igniting into emerald fire.
Then — silence.
Just George.
And his racing heart.
He breathed heavily, staring at the ashes where they'd burned away.
I did it. My first kill.
Above, muffled crashes echoed through the floors — Ryan and Saya locked in battle.
But down here, in the quiet, George stood still.
It hadn't been perfect. He'd made mistakes. Taken hits.
But in the end — he held his own.
The fear was still there.
But now, it stood beside something else.
Conviction.