Standing before the countless eyes of elite hunters and world-renowned guild leaders, Snow Quincy felt his breath hitch.
This was no small gathering.
The World Hunter Summit wasn't just attended by the powerful—it was broadcast live across the globe. Millions were watching. Every word, every gesture, captured and analyzed.
And now, for the first time, the spotlight was on him.
He stepped forward to the mic. His voice wavered slightly as it left his throat.
"...Hello."
A moment of silence followed—awkward, tense, yet real.
"I'm sure most of you already know my name by now... but allow me to reintroduce myself," he continued, steadying himself.
"I am Snow Quincy."
He inhaled deeply, eyes scanning the room. Many weren't even looking at him—some whispered, others remained indifferent. But still, he pressed forward.
"And before I go into detail about how my skill works, I'd like to take a moment to thank the three people who made this journey of mine possible."
He held up a hand, three fingers raised.
"First... Lora Winchester. She was the one who first showed me the path to growth."
A soft smile tugged at the corners of his mouth—tinged with bittersweet nostalgia.
"She's my ex. Someone I once devoted my heart to. And while things between us didn't last, the fact remains—her impact on my journey is undeniable. For that, she deserves recognition."
A few murmurs stirred among the press.
"The second is Ruciel Faithhood."
His gaze wandered, landing on her seat, though she didn't meet his eyes.
"Meeting you was... chaotic. A series of trials. But in the end, it taught me something invaluable—that self-worth is not found in others, but in ourselves."
He lowered his head briefly, a silent farewell hidden in his words.
"And finally, the Bright Family."
He paused.
There was no applause. Only silence—and then, the sudden burst of camera flashes.
Just the mention of the Brights was enough to ignite speculation. The implication of a deeper connection would no doubt spark headlines.
"...Without them, I wouldn't be standing here today. I thank them from the depths of my heart, and I hope someday I can return that kindness... in golden light."
The hall remained silent.
But the press? They were already on fire.
Snow stepped closer to the microphone, his expression now more composed.
"Now... as for the mapping skill," he said, his voice firm. "Let me explain."
He waited for a few seconds—a brief, deliberate pause that captured the attention of every ear in the room.
"The Mapping Skill... is a unique ability that allows me to navigate optimal paths—both in theory and in practice"
He looked across the audience and began to illustrate his point.
"Let's take a chef as an example. A chef's job is to create dishes that taste amazing to the consumer. But what many don't see... is the process—the preparation, the technique, the timing, the sequence."
"My skill shows me the path that avoids error, maximizes efficiency, and ultimately produces the best result possible."
The hall began to lean in.
"If I were to create a potion, the mapping skill would reveal every necessary step. What to mix, what to avoid, the exact order... It's how I've created powerful potions and dishes—ones Lady Ruciel herself can vouch for."
A voice broke through the crowd.
"If I may—" a deep, rumbling tone called out.
All eyes turned to the man seated comfortably at the edge of the hall.
Ibrahim Ishaq.
The scarred African hunter, known as the "Mountain King," leaned forward.
"Are you saying your skill allows you to reduce risk while increasing returns?"
Snow nodded. "You guessed right."
"Does it apply only to dungeons?" another voice asked—this time refined, elegant.
The speaker leaned forward from the seated crowd—a tall young man with golden blonde hair, clad in silver-accented attire that gave off an air of royalty.
Arthur Pendragon—a symbol of Western nobility and power.
"No," Snow replied. "My skill applies to any process where a result must be achieved. It maps the clearest, most efficient route. Potions, meals... even choices."
Arthur raised a brow. "So it gives you the best possible outcome, as long as you follow the path?"
"Exactly," Snow said calmly. "It guides me toward things to adjust, avoid, or embrace. All I have to do... is walk the path."
Then, another voice—sharp, piercing.
"Does it work on humans?"
Everyone turned.
It was Lora Winchester.
She stood with arms crossed, her expression unreadable.
Snow gave a small smile. "May I ask why you're curious?"
"It must be the rumors," she said plainly. "Two months ago, you walked up to Ruciel in public and promised her the position of an S-rank... on the condition that she became your woman, right?"
A ripple of surprise moved through the room.
Snow chuckled faintly.
"You're still as blunt as ever, Lora."
But then he nodded.
"Indeed," he admitted. "My skill... can influence growth. I can help a person develop—if the path allows it."
The room erupted into murmurs.
It was the confirmation everyone had suspected—but few had dared believe.
He could help others ascend.
"If that's true," Arthur said, stepping forward again, "surely there's a catch?"
Snow didn't hesitate. "There is."
"But I won't be sharing that publicly. for my safety... and for the safety of those who may benefit from it."
And just like that—the tension hit its peak.
Then—suddenly—someone stood up.
A man in a red silk shirt, dark pants, and twin swords strapped at his side.
He was broad-shouldered, his features sharp and proud. On his belt was the emblem of the Dynasty Guild.
Zhao Lin. The First Star of Asia.
"I'm willing to pay you 10 billion if you join my guild," he said calmly, one hand raised.
The room fell into stunned silence.
Even Johan blinked.
Snow didn't speak right away.
He just stared ahead—expression unreadable—as the world watched and held its breath.
"50 billion. If you join the Pendragon Guild," Arthur said calmly, his voice cutting through the hall like polished steel.
A hushed gasp spread across the room.
Then another voice joined in, deep and thunderous.
"Now, now... let's not pretend we don't know how this works." Ibrahim leaned forward, folding his massive arms. "He'll be joining Ogun Guild—for the sum of 100 billion."
The crowd erupted again.
But just as Snow opened his mouth to politely decline—
"500 billion."
The voice was clear.
Cold.
And utterly unexpected.
All eyes turned.
The crowd froze.
Even the cameras hesitated in their flashing.
There she stood.
The Ice Queen.
She had risen from her seat, arms crossed, her icy gaze locked onto Snow like a predator calculating a threat—or a treasure.
A woman of few words. A hunter who rarely aligned with anyone. A solo queen in a world of factions.
And now, she had made the boldest offer of them all.
"To join the guild I'm about to create," she added. "With me as Guild Master."
The air itself seemed to shudder. The press couldn't even react. No one had expected her to speak, let alone extend an invitation—let alone five hundred billion.
Then came the sound.
DING!
=======================
QUEST COMPLETED
=======================
DING!
=======================
YOU HAVE SUCCESSFULLY GAINED THE BROKEN GEM'S ATTENTION
=======================
DING!
=======================
ZERO BLADE HAS BEEN ALLOCATED TO YOUR INVENTORY
=======================
Snow blinked.
The system had rewarded him immediately. No subquests, no conditions. Just the Ice Queen's interest alone had been enough to trigger a legendary-level reward.
Why? he thought.
He'd received Zero Blade, a weapon categorized among the highest-tier legendary items. And not just that—it had three levels unlocked. Usually, even rare blades came sealed until conditions were met.
It didn't make sense.
Unless—
Unless her attention alone was more than a mere interest. Unless she was... one of the keys.
"That's absurd," Ibrahim muttered, glancing at the Ice Queen with disbelief. "Since when did you care about forming a guild, let alone spending that much?"
The hall remained in stunned silence.
Then she spoke again.
"What do you say, Snow Quincy?"
Snow looked up.
He didn't answer immediately. He studied her. The hall. The offers.
And then, with a faint smile, he finally spoke.
"That appears to be a one-way offer," he said. "What do you stand to gain from it?"
Her reply was cold and simple. "Nothing... as long as Ibrahim and Arthur don't get to have you."
Snow tilted his head. "So you wish to monopolize me?"
"You could say that," she replied without flinching.
"I see," Snow nodded.
His next words came like a spark in dry grass.
"Unfortunately, I'm currently devoted to one person... But—if you wish to nullify that devotion, then you'd have to offset the balance."
"Offset?" she asked, curious.
He met her eyes.
"By devoting yourself to me."
A sharp collective breath rippled across the crowd.
Even the Ice Queen blinked—though she didn't budge.
"...Are you saying... like Ruciel?" she asked, eyes narrowing. "Become your woman?"
"No."
She raised a brow. "No?"
"Ruciel has her own free will," he said calmly. "What I give her... is an exchange of faith. I walk her path so she may grow."
"So..." the Ice Queen began, "You're saying I'd have to be more than that?"
"You are a globally known high-ranking hunter," Snow said, still calm. "But if you were to fight Ruciel now, I doubt you'd last long in your current state."
A vein twitched subtly at her temple, but she didn't deny it.
"...However," Snow continued, "if you become someone I favor, then I promise you—within one year, you will stand above everyone in this room."
"And in return," she said slowly, "you become... what? Loyal? Like a slave or a dog?"
"You get it," Snow answered, his smile returning. "Exactly right."
She narrowed her eyes. "...You make the weirdest proposals I've ever heard."
"But I'll think about it."
The silence in the hall was suffocating. No one knew what to say.
And then Arthur's voice broke through again.
"You speak in riddles. Is there a reason you're gathering people like this? Offering to level them up like Ruciel?"
Snow nodded, still smiling. "At first... it was just for fun."
"And now?" Ibrahim asked.
"...A vision."
Arthur leaned forward. "What kind of vision?"
Snow's tone darkened.
"A month ago. In the Ulkis Dungeon."
Johan's voice followed. "You mean... the reason you collapsed?"
Now seated at the upper round table among the Top 10 Hunters—Pendragon, Ibrahim, the Ice Queen, and other world-renowned names—Snow gave a solemn nod.
"Yes."
The room stilled.
Then Snow spoke clearly.
"Three years from now, the world will fall into chaos."
Eyes widened.
"But before that... in a matter of weeks, a global outbreak will occur."
He paused, gaze unwavering.
"I won't go into detail. You'd all label it madness. And perhaps... it is."
A few skeptical faces began to murmur.
"But mark this," Snow said. "A figure will descend—a force unlike anything this world has ever seen."
He looked up, voice resolute.
"He will be called... THE AVATAR OF CHRONOS AZAZELLION."
"I'm not asking anyone to believe me," Snow said quietly, his eyes scanning the room. "After all, the Oracle has yet to make any declaration. But I simply hope... that even if you can't stop what's coming, you can minimize the casualties."
His words hung in the air like a silent plea.
Arthur leaned forward, skeptical. "How certain are you of this vision, Snow Quincy?"
Snow met his gaze.
"I'm not."
A murmur stirred across the hall.
"Then it doesn't differ from false information," Arthur said sharply, clearly displeased. "In fact, it may do more harm than good."
"Hm," Ibrahim sighed, folding his arms, seemingly in agreement.
Even Ruciel—seated quietly until now—spoke.
"Do you not think your words are... far-fetched?" she asked, her tone calm but firm.
Snow turned to her.
"We were both in the dungeon," she continued, "We completed the task side by side. Yet according to the medical report, you were the only one who collapsed from 'exhaustion.' So... how exactly do you claim to have seen a vision?"
Snow's eyes narrowed slightly. "Are you doubting my words?"
"I am," she said, without hesitation. "It just doesn't make sense."
A brief silence followed.
Then Snow chuckled softly, as if surrendering to the moment.
"Very well," he said. "Perhaps I've caused unease for those watching. If my words prove false in the coming weeks... I leave my punishment in the hands of the Hunter Association."
He gave a polite, almost amused smile.
His tone held no bitterness—just a strange sense of acceptance.
"Well," Johan said, rising from his seat. "You've stated your piece, explained your skill in full, and even managed to draw the Ice Queen's interest. That's an achievement on its own."
He walked up the stage, giving Snow a slight nod.
"Let's end today's summit here."
Snow gave a short bow.
"Thank you."
The room slowly began to settle. Hunters started gathering their things, some still whispering about the revelation, others brushing it off as a publicity stunt. The summit continued for another hour, with Johan overseeing closing discussions and ensuring support-type hunters like Snow were given proper recognition moving forward.
As time passed, the hall gradually emptied—guild leaders left in groups, some lingered to chat and speculate, while others disappeared without a word.
Snow, however, was the last to leave.
Until—
"Snow."
He turned.
It was the President of the Hunter Association.
The man approached calmly, followed by several security officers.
"Your vision," the President said.
He studied Snow for a moment before continuing.
"The Oracle saw something similar... two years ago."
Snow blinked.
"But no one took her seriously. Her vision never came to pass—or so we believed."
The President stepped closer.
"But now that you have spoken words nearly identical to hers... I can no longer dismiss the possibility."
Snow remained silent, listening.
"If this disaster is truly three years away, as she once claimed... I will speak with her. Privately. Find out what she remembers."
He placed a firm hand on Snow's shoulder.
"But before anything else, we need to see if your warning—this world-scale outbreak in the coming weeks—comes true. If it does... the world will begin to listen."
Snow gave a respectful bow. "Thank you for your assurance, Mr. President."
The man smiled faintly. "It's fine."
With a nod to his guards, he turned and walked away.
But before Snow could leave, another voice called out.
"Snow!"
Snow turned.
"Ibrahim Ishaq." He smiled brightly. "It's a pleasure to speak to you in person."
"You're good," Ibrahim said with a grin, striding forward. "I've never seen CLAIR MIRRORFELT—the Ice Queen herself—take that much interest in someone. All thanks to you."
Snow scratched his head bashfully. "It wasn't my intention to cause such a stir."
Ibrahim's grin softened into something more sincere.
"And although not everyone believes your words... Africa will prepare as you've suggested. Quietly. Just in case."
Snow's eyes widened slightly in surprise. "You will?"
"I'd rather prepare for a lie than be destroyed by the truth," Ibrahim said.
Snow nodded gratefully. "Then I hope with all my heart... that it never happens."
Ibrahim extended a hand.
"See you around, Snow."
Snow took it.
"Likewise."
As the summit came to a close and the last of the crowd filtered out, Snow adjusted the collar of his coat and quietly made his way through the dimly lit hallway. His steps were calm, unhurried—until he came to a sudden halt.
A familiar figure stood ahead, leaning casually against the wall, arms folded.
"...Lora?"
The woman looked up at him, her expression unreadable beneath the soft glow of the overhead lights.
"You sure have changed... considerably over the months," she said, her tone oddly neutral.
"Heh... thanks," Snow replied, flashing a pleasant, genuine smile.
She stared at him for a moment longer, almost as if surprised he hadn't turned her away.
"Truly, you've changed," she repeated. "I thought... you'd be angry. I thought you'd scowl at me, shout, or pretend I didn't exist. But here you are, welcoming me with that same honest smile."
Snow shook his head lightly. "It's all thanks to you."
"...What?"
"For letting me grow up."
Her breath hitched at the honesty in his voice.
Lora had always been ambitious—driven by a desire to be recognized, to become a renowned hunter, even if it meant using Snow as a stepping stone. He had been a convenient part of her rise. But now... looking at him, it was clear that something about her had changed. She no longer carried that sharp edge of restless ambition. The men she used to chase held no meaning to her anymore.
Snow had grown, yes—but so had she. And somewhere along the way, she had realized that the warmth she once took for granted could never be found again. No one else could offer her the kind of presence Snow once gave so freely... and she knew she'd lost something she could never reclaim.
"...It's fine," she finally said. "I didn't stop you just for small talk. I actually wanted to give you a warning."
"A warning?"
She stepped a little closer, her voice hushed.
"Ruciel... you should end things with her before you get hurt again."
Snow's eyes widened slightly in surprise.
"...Thank you," he said softly, touched by her sincerity.
"What are you thanking me for?" she asked, slightly flustered.
"Well... this is the first time you've shown genuine concern for me," he said, chuckling gently. "And it... warms me up. In a weird way."
His words caught her off guard.
"...Wow. You really have grown."
She turned to leave, but paused midway.
"Anyway, that's all I had to say. And... try to check up on Aura."
Snow froze.
That name...
He hadn't heard it in a long time.
His sister's name—spoken by Lora, of all people. The very one who once showed open disdain for her. It felt strange. Surreal.
"...Alright," he said quietly.
As Lora walked away without looking back, Snow watched her go. She hadn't asked for anything. She didn't try to explain herself or justify the past. She simply wanted to show him the respect he once gave her. And Snow, in return, felt the same.
The hallway fell silent again—until a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around him from behind.
"What are you doing?" Ruciel's voice murmured into his back.
Snow tilted his head. "Nothing. Just heading home."
"Then... let's go together," she said, holding him a little tighter.
But Snow slowly reached up and gently removed her arms.
"No."
He turned to face her, eyes steady.
"I need time to think about a few things."
Ruciel's face fell.
"...I-I see. If that's what you want."
Snow reached into his coat and pulled out a small, circular object—smooth like glass, shimmering faintly with a subtle glow. He handed it to her.
"What's this?" she asked, inspecting it.
"A token," Snow said.
"It can only be used once."
Her brows furrowed. "What for?"
"You can use it on me," he said. "When you do, I'll grant anything—a wish, a forgiveness, a promise... whatever you desire. Whether you want something from me, or need me to forget something you did... it's yours to decide."
Ruciel stared at the token, speechless.
"...I see," she whispered.
"I'll keep it. Since you're giving it."
Snow nodded once. "Alright. See you tomorrow."
"Yeah," she replied.
They stood for a second longer before Snow turned away and began walking.
He didn't kiss her.
He didn't say anything more.
He simply waved once over his shoulder before vanishing down the corridor, his footsteps quiet, fading into the distance.
And Ruciel... remained standing in place, clutching the token gently in her hand.
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to be continued...