With a slight twitch of his eyes, both eyelids fluttered open.
Golden light shimmered in his gaze—radiant, mesmerizing. His eyes alone could silence a room, their beauty drawing one in like a hypnotic spell. But before he could process where he was, a sharp jolt of pain struck his chest. He grunted quietly, hand flying instinctively to his sternum.
It was then he realized.
He was seated upright on a hospital bed.
White walls. Medical monitors. Sterile air. It wasn't a battlefield—it was recovery.
As if the moment had been rehearsed, the door slid open.
A young woman stepped in.
Snow blinked. His breath caught.
"...Lisa?"
His voice came out weak, disbelieving. The moment he saw her, something inside him surged. Without thinking, he pulled her into a sudden embrace.
"L-Lisa!" he said again, holding her tightly.
The hug startled her, but she didn't resist. Instead, tears welled up in her eyes as her arms wrapped around him just as tightly.
"Thank God you're awake..." she whispered, her voice cracking. "I thought we lost you..."
Snow felt the tremble in her body, the rawness of her emotion. He smiled gently, lifting a hand to wipe her tears.
"Yeah... I'm awake," he said softly. "You've been crying this much?"
He tried to calm her down, offering comforting words and soft smiles. Slowly, the tension melted from her shoulders, and after a few minutes, she sat back with a radiant smile lighting her face.
"You really surprised everyone, you know," she said, lightly tapping his arm.
"Huh?"
"You never said you had a buffing ability!"
"Buffing... ability?" he repeated, confused.
"Yeah! That's what Ruciel told the press. She said you can buff people through your food and potions. Apparently, it helped her solo the dungeon. She insisted you be acknowledged for that."
"I see..." Snow murmured, then gave her a strange look. "But that's not entirely true."
Lisa tilted her head. "What do you mean?"
"I don't have a 'buff' skill," he said plainly. "What I have... is an alchemy like skill."
Lisa's brows furrowed. "Alchemy?"
"It allows me to craft anything—potions, meals, whatever. Each item comes with unique effects depending on the person I'm making it for. Sometimes it boosts stats, sometimes other things, but it's not a traditional buff skill."
Her eyes widened.
So that was it—the secret behind the miracle potions. The reason his name had started circulating among elite circles. She'd seen him make incredible things, but never knew the deeper reason why they worked so well.
"By the way... how long was I out?" Snow asked, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.
Lisa hesitated, then quietly said, "You've been in a coma... for a month."
"...What?!"
He shot up, disbelief etched across his face. "I lost that much time?!"
In a flurry of movement, he began pulling off the monitoring wires and tubes attached to his arms and chest.
"Wait! What are you doing!?" Lisa asked, alarmed.
"It's the dungeon," he said grimly. "Something's not right."
He pushed open the hospital room door—
And immediately bumped into someone.
"Ow..." Snow muttered, stepping back.
Two men stood in his path. One of them wore sharp white pants and a bold shirt patterned with tigers strips. Stylish glasses perched on his nose, and his hair was cleanly shaven at the sides. He gave off the air of someone confident—dangerously so.
The aura of a seasoned hunter.
"Sorry to intrude," the man said coolly.
Snow blinked.
Lisa quickly stood and bowed slightly. "Hunter Shura."
"Lisa Bright," the man greeted, nodding. "You've done well looking after him this past month."
"It was worth it," she said with a faint blush, stealing a glance at Snow.
Snow's gaze narrowed slightly. "Shura Walkbird..."
The name hit like a storm.
Shura Walkbird. A hunter recognized across the globe. Vice President of the Asian Branch of the Hunter Association. Known by the alias: Skywalk Hunter—the only hunter in recorded history to master wind-based skill to their highest form.
But behind the polished image was a darker reputation.
A ghost story whispered among hunters.
The Hunter Hunter—the one sent to eliminate rogue or unregistered hunters.
And now, he stood at Snow's door.
"Nice to meet you, Snow Quincy," Shura said, his voice smooth and composed. His sharp eyes scanned Snow from head to toe. "Though... it seems you're in quite a rush, considering you're barely clothed."
Snow glanced down at the loose hospital gown hanging from his frame and sighed. "Ah... apologies. I was actually planning to head to the Association. There's something I need to report—information I uncovered inside the dungeon."
"Information?" Shura raised an eyebrow. "Your companion already provided a full report. And the rest was streamed to the world."
"I see..." Snow muttered, then looked Shura directly in the eyes. "Then did she mention a dungeon outbreak? One that's going to happen in a month?"
The words hung heavy in the air.
Shura's expression shifted slightly. "An outbreak?"
"Yes," Snow confirmed without hesitation. "And it won't just be in Asia. All continents will be affected. A global catastrophe is coming."
Shura's brows furrowed deeply. "And how valid is this claim of yours?"
"It's not something I can validate," Snow said calmly. "But it's something you need to prepare for. Whether you believe it or not is up to you."
Shura crossed his arms, thoughtful. "That's a bold statement... But you can leave that to the upcoming summit in two days."
"Another summit?" Snow asked, blinking. "Already? When was the last one?"
"This one's to officially acknowledge Ruciel Faithhood for achieving S-rank status," Shura replied.
Snow frowned sharply. "That idiot."
The room fell into an awkward silence at his blunt remark.
"...Anyway," Snow said, clearing his throat. "What brings you here, Vice President Walkbird?"
Shura, unfazed by the tone, adjusted his glasses. "Two reasons. First, I'm here to offer you a reevaluation test."
"A reevaluation test?" Snow echoed, tilting his head.
"Yes," Shura nodded. "According to Ruciel's report, there's a possibility you've awakened as a combatant. If so, the Association needs to formally update your registry. That way, no discrepancies occur when you enter dungeons in the future."
"I see... When is it scheduled?"
"If possible, before the summit."
"Is it mandatory?"
"Not at all," Shura replied. "It's voluntary. This invitation is extended purely because of the attention you've drawn from the public—media speculation, press coverage, rumors about your skills."
Snow thought for a moment, then shook his head. "In that case... I'll be ignoring the invitation for now."
"I see..." Shura studied him quietly, as if comparing this version of Snow to the one he had seen at the previous summit. There was something different—sharper and Calmer.
"And the second reason you're here?" Snow asked.
"To confirm that you've recovered from your coma," Shura said. "And to ensure your medical expenses are covered."
Snow nodded. "I see."
"If you're concerned about the dungeon reward... all of it was handed over to Ruciel Faithhood."
"It's fine," Snow said with a shrug, as if it truly didn't bother him.
"Very well," Shura said, giving a small bow. "With that, we'll take our leave."
"Thank you for the Association's efforts," Snow replied sincerely.
"See you at the summit, Snow Quincy," Shura said before turning on his heel. The two officials exited the room, leaving only Lisa and Snow behind.
A gentle silence settled between them.
"So..." Snow turned to her. "You were the one looking after me this whole month, weren't you?"
"I—Yes," Lisa answered, cheeks reddening. "I stayed by your side."
"Thank you," he said simply, but his eyes softened, carrying a quiet depth of emotion. Yet behind that gratitude, there was a faint shadow—something broken lingering beneath the surface.
"It's alright," Lisa replied, brushing it off, though her voice was a little shaky.
"I should head back to my apartment," he said, stretching his arms.
"You need to eat. Let me come with you," she offered, standing with quiet determination.
"As you wish," he said with a soft smile.
Later that evening, Snow stood at his apartment door, watching Lisa step out.
"Give my regards to Gramps and the rest of the family," he said.
Lisa had spent the entire day with him—making sure he ate, checking in on him, doing little things with quiet care. Watching her move around his place so naturally made him wonder.
Why was she devoting herself like this?
And more importantly...
Why hadn't Ruciel come to see him even once since he woke up?
"I will. Just... take your time recuperating," Lisa said, her voice soft as she stepped away from the doorway.
"Thank you," Snow replied with a gentle smile. "I will."
"Bye," she whispered, waving with a soft grace. Snow returned the wave and lingered by the door, watching as she walked into the elevator and to be sure she left properly he quickly walked to the balcony of his penthouse to look down the building to see her climbed into her family's car. Only once it disappeared down the road did he turn and walk back into the quiet of his apartment.
—
Time passed slowly.
Snow lay sprawled across his bed, staring up at the ceiling as countless thoughts drifted through his mind. His heart tugged with an unsettling weight. It had been a whole day since he'd woken up from the coma, and yet... not a single call. Not a single message from her.
No word from Ruciel.
Unable to shake the unease, he reached for his phone. Her name sat quietly in his contacts—so familiar, yet now distant. He tapped it. The line connected for a second—then instantly dropped.
Disconnected.
Snow's grip tightened. His heart clenched, but he breathed through it, reminding himself that this wasn't the time to dwell on things that no longer mattered. He opened his feed instead, thinking to distract himself... only to be met with headlines. Her name. Her face.
"SCARLET QUEEN: The Rise of RUCIEL FAITHHOOD"
Articles flooded the net. She had become the media's darling, adored by the public. Yet it wasn't just her fame that caught his eye—it was the dragon.
"...So the egg finally hatched," Snow murmured, scrolling past an image of Ruciel standing proudly beside a majestic young dragon.
But what caught him off guard wasn't the ego—it was the man beside her in almost every photo.
Kyle Fredhind.
A hunter of worldwide renown.
Snow lay sprawled across his king-sized bed, the sterile white ceiling of his penthouse staring back at him. The silence of the room felt heavier than usual. He should've been ecstatic—she had officially debuted as an S-Rank Hunter, and the mysterious egg she'd cared for had finally hatched into a dragon. Two major milestones, back-to-back. Yet, something gnawed at him beneath the surface.
"...Still no word from Ruciel," he muttered under his breath, the corner of his lips pulling into a subtle frown.
Despite trying not to doubt her, the lack of contact unsettled him. The system hadn't flagged any alerts or signs of betrayal, but that didn't stop his mind from wandering.
With a quiet sigh, he reached for his phone one more time and dialed her number.
Ring.
"/Hello?/" came a familiar voice.
"...Scarlet," he said calmly.
"/Snow?/" Her voice rose with surprise. "/You're awake? Where are you?/"
"Home. Got discharged yesterday."
"/Alright, I'll be there soon./"
As the call ended, faint background noise from her side lingered in his ears. Snow blinked, trying to place where she could be, but quickly dismissed the thought. He didn't want to overthink things. The system was silent, and that silence meant trust—for now.
Still, a quiet sense of anticipation crept into his chest. He laid back down, letting sleep claim him again.
The sharp sting of sunlight pierced through the blinds the next morning. With a small grunt, Snow turned his face to the side, hiding from the light. Then, as if emerging from a deep trance, he sat up with a start.
He looked around. Empty.
She never came.
"I guess... she didn't make it," he said to himself, his tone unreadable.
Checking his phone, the time read 10:55 AM. He rubbed the back of his neck and pushed himself off the bed, making his way to the kitchen. If nothing else, he could at least be productive.
He began preparing several potions—some meant for Scarlet, others he'd sell later. The scent of herbs and arcane energy filled the kitchen as he moved with practiced ease, hands steady despite his quiet thoughts.
Once finished, he stepped into the shower. The warm water washed over his tense muscles, and by the time he stepped out and dressed, he looked sharp and composed.
A simple grey sweatshirt, black pants, and matching sneakers. A single earring dangled from his left ear, catching the light and adding a subtle flair to his look. His physique was different now—more defined, stronger. A result of the S-Rank dungeon, no doubt. A reward, perhaps, from the system or fate itself.
Just as he reached for his keys, his phone vibrated again.
Ring.
He checked the screen.
"Hello, Scarlet."
"/Are you home?/" she asked.
"Yeah. Was about to head out."
"/I'm sorry I didn't make it yesterday. Can I make it up to you?/"
"It's fine. You were busy. I get it."
There was a brief pause. Then her voice returned, softer.
"/...Would it be alright if you picked me up?/"
"Sure. What time?"
"/I'm heading into a dungeon right now. Two hours from now?/"
"Alright."
"/See you then./"
The call ended, but Snow stood there for a moment, phone still in hand.
"...Two hours, huh."
He didn't smile—but somehow, the air around him felt just a little lighter.
-----------------------------------------------
to be continued...