The air in the hangar had shifted. It was no longer a meeting room; it was a coliseum. The tables had been pushed back by the sheer pressure of mana, and the soldiers formed a wide, fearful perimeter, their backs pressed against the steel walls.
"Well, well... you finally arrived," Rikiya said, his voice trembling with a mixture of bloodlust and genuine delight. He couldn't hide his excitement. It radiated off him like heat from a furnace.
Damien walked toward the center of the makeshift arena. He moved with a casual, almost lazy gait, his hands in his pockets. He looked less like a soldier preparing for a duel and more like a man taking a stroll through a park.
He saw Rikiya smiling widely, his crimson eyes glowing with a feral intensity.
"I can't be late for such an event like this," Damien replied, his voice calm but carrying to every corner of the silent room. "After all, maybe this time I could show you that I am right. You Hunters are goddamn Monkeys."
Damien snorted and smiled back at Rikiya. It wasn't a hero's smile. It was a mirror of Rikiya's own madness—a promise of violence.
'I can't wait to gouge those eyes out,' Damien thought. 'They're too bright. Too arrogant.'
Rikiya cracked his knuckles, the sound echoing like pistol shots. He reached into the empty air, and space distorted. A handle made of black jade appeared, followed by a blade that seemed to drink the light.
[Divine Artifact: Orochi Katana]
It was a blade forged from the fang of a Mythical Beast, capable of slicing through dimensions.
Damien cracked his neck, tilting his head until it popped. He didn't summon a flashy sword. He didn't call upon a grand staff. He reached into his [Space Inventory] and pulled out a simple, jagged weapon.
It was an A-Rank Poignant Dagger. It was ugly, serrated, and stained with a dark patina that wouldn't scrub off.
"A poignant dagger?" Rikiya scoffed, his laughter barking out harsh and loud. "Did you really think that damn toothpick could really kill me off?"
He, the "Rakshasa of Japan," one of the Top 4 Hunters worldwide, laughed. It was absurd. A dagger was a weapon for thieves and assassins, not for a duel of honor against a demigod.
"Well, let's just say I hate using swords," Damien said, flipping the dagger in his hand with practiced ease. "Because they're fucking overrated, that is. They're jewelry. If I only had an S-Rank War Mace, I'd rather use that and smash your head off. It's cleaner."
Damien was right, at least in his own mind. Swords were overrated. He always saw Hunters posing with their gleaming katanas, their broadswords, their spears of light. They treated weapons like fashion accessories, polishing them for the cameras, naming them ridiculous things like "Starlight's Whimper."
He hated it. He grew up hating weapons that prioritized form over function. He never saw famous Hunters using a Scythe, a Poignant Dagger, or a Six-Bladed War Mace. Those were ugly weapons. Brutal weapons. Weapons meant for killing, not for dueling.
That's why he believed swords and spears were tools of vanity. Because Hunters like Rikiya always used them to look cool while they slaughtered things.
"Tch," Rikiya spat, his grin tightening. "And here I thought you were a Weapon Enthusiast. Whatever. Let's get this done, you fucking American."
"Yeah, yeah," Damien muttered, settling into a low stance. "Stop talking and let's fight, you fucking Japanese Monkey Hunter."
The taunt was the trigger.
"AHHHH!!!"
Rikiya attacked first. He didn't run; he vanished. His speed was beyond the realm of human perception.
-CLANG!
Sparks showered the floor like fireworks.
Damien had parried. His jagged dagger caught the pristine edge of the Orochi Katana just inches from his throat. The force of the impact cracked the concrete beneath Damien's feet, creating a spiderweb of fractures.
Damien smiled through the strain and pulled a middle finger right in front of Rikiya's face.
"Swords, Katanas, and Spears are always overrated, you goddamn Monkey."
"TCH!" Rikiya gritted his teeth, his eyes widening. He pushed off, disengaging, and unleashed a flurry of strikes.
-CLANG!
-CLANG!
-CLANG!
The sound of metal on metal became a continuous scream. Rikiya was a storm of blades, attacking from every angle simultaneously. But Damien was the eye of the storm. He didn't block; he deflected. He used the minimum amount of movement necessary, turning Rikiya's own force against him.
Rikiya grew frustrated. He jumped back, hovering in the air for a split second.
"Maken Kiri: Shinku Zan!"
Rikiya summoned his signature technique—a Demonic Slash meant to sever both the user's body and their soul. A wave of crimson energy, sharp enough to cut the fabric of space, roared toward Damien.
Damien widened his eyes. He couldn't parry that.
He threw himself to the side, rolling across the floor.
-WHOOSH!
The slash missed him by a millimeter. It hit the heavy steel wall of the hangar behind him. The wall didn't just break; it split silently, the cut extending out into the desert night for half a mile.
"Kuh!"
Damien wiped a drop of blood dripping down from his lip. The air pressure alone had cut his skin.
'He's strong,' Damien admitted internally. 'Without the amplification, I'd be dead three times over.'
He took a deep breath.
'Black Death!'
[Trait Activated: Black Death (L)]
[Lifespan Sacrifice: 5 Years]
The atmosphere in the room grew heavy, suffocating. Black markings, like tribal tattoos made of liquid shadow, erupted across Damien's skin. They crawled up his neck, over his face, and down his arms, bleeding into the steel of his poignant dagger until the weapon turned pitch black.
"Done playing, American?" Rikiya landed softly, touching the blade of his Katana. It began to pulse with a purple, demonic aura. "How about now? You should take me seriously now."
Rikiya pointed the edge of his katana at Damien.
Damien stood up slowly. He dusted off his desert fatigues, seemingly unbothered by the titanic power facing him.
"I admit, I kind of underestimated you," Damien said, his voice distorting slightly under the weight of his own mana. "But now? I should stop playing around."
Damien's aura burst forward.
It wasn't the bright, heroic mana of a Hunter. It was a void. A black hole of killing intent that swallowed the light in the room.
Lucy and Simon gasped, clutching the railing of the observation deck. Even Morgane Sylvine Obeline, the Top 1 Hunter, and Gyeum Gayeol, the Sword Empress, stepped back involuntarily.
"How is this possible?" a technician shouted, staring at her tablet in horror. "This aura... the mana density... it's the same level as the SS-Rank Hunters! No, it's climbing! It's fluctuating toward SSS!"
This was impossible. Yesterday night, the scans confirmed he was an A-Rank. An elite soldier, yes, but human. This... this level of aura and killing intent was the same level as those monsters from the SS-Rank who were on the verge of a breakthrough.
"Impossible," Gyeum Gayeol whispered, her composure cracking. "He's not even an Awakened Hunter. How is he able to use mana and abilities the same as us? Just how is this possible?"
The woman couldn't figure it out. It defied every law of mana theory she had learned in Korea.
Meanwhile, Morgane overheard it. She wasn't looking at the tablet. She was looking at Rikiya.
'Goddamnit, Rikiya,' Morgane thought, biting her thumbnail until it bled. 'I warned you before not to have a fight with him! I told you there was something wrong with his file! It will be your ultimate loss. You should have listened to me!'
Morgane was biting her nails out of worry—not just for Rikiya's life, but for the shame. If a member of the WHA—a Top 4 Hunter—was defeated by a "mere" A-Rank Soldier, the hierarchy of the world would shatter. The funding, the political power, the reverence... it all relied on the lie that Hunters were untouchable gods.
'What should I do?!' Morgane thought frantically.
Gayeol didn't focus on the fight. She focused on Morgane's reaction.
'For a Head of a big Association and Top 1 Hunter, you really are worried for your comrade, huh?' Gayeol mused, her eyes narrowing. 'And here I thought you only cared about the WHA and its reputation. Or maybe... you just really care about the reputation of your caste system.'
Gayeol turned her gaze back to the arena. 'I should focus on the fight. Maybe I will gain enlightenment from this anomaly.'
***
5 hours ago. 3:30 AM.The Nevada's Encampment
The camp was quiet, save for the crackle of the fireplace. Michael Thompson sat in his leather chair, looking older than his years. Damien stood by the window, checking his gear.
"Hey... are you sure you really could take him, son?" Michael asked out of worry.
He trusted Damien. He knew Damien was a weapon. But he hesitated. Rikiya Nishikawa was an SSS-Rank Hunter. He was a natural disaster given human form. Beings like him could destroy entire continents with ease.
"Yeah, just trust me," Damien said, not turning around. He was adjusting his gloves, pulling the velcro tight. He picked up his poignant dagger and began sharpening it with a whetstone. Scritch. Scritch.
"Also," Damien continued, his voice flat, "when did I ever lose to a goddamn monkey like him? You already saw me killing Hunters below his rank mercilessly. How about that goddamn Monkey Hunter? He bleeds the same."
"You! Just..." Michael stammered, rubbing his face. "Just remember you should not die here yet. You wanted to die inside of that dungeon, right? Then prove it. Prove that you will survive long enough to die on your own terms."
Michael stood up, frustration bubbling over. "And you should stop being racist towards Hunters like him. I know you hate them because of Melissa and what happened in your childhood with your parents' death, but—"
-CLANG.
Damien dropped his dagger. It hit the floor with a heavy thud.
He turned around. His eyes were burning holes into Michael.
"But what?!" Damien asked, his voice rising in irritation. "But what, Michael?! You know they're the reason my girlfriend Melissa died! Your daughter died because of them! You know I only disliked them after my parents' death, but the truth is, I really didn't hate them back then. I knew it wasn't really their entire fault my parents died in that crossfire."
Damien stepped closer, his hands shaking.
"But what about Melissa, huh?! You know and I know those goddamn motherfuckers are the reason for her death! They ran away! They left us!"
Damien slammed his hand against the wall.
"And you know what?! My goddamn hate towards them is justified! They stole everything from me! They stole my parents! They stole my girlfriend who saved me from the darkness I was drowning in! They stole your daughter!"
He poked Michael in the chest.
"Now tell me... why should I stop being racist towards them, huh?! Tell me, Michael! Tell me!"
Michael sighed. He slumped back into his chair. He knew Damien was right. He hated them too. Damien's hate was justified. It was pure.
But Michael also knew the complexity of the world. Not all Hunters were evil. Some were just broken people given too much power. Some couldn't save everyone even if they tried. God knows Michael blamed them for his daughter's death—it was the reason he had returned to being a drunk bastard for two years.
"You know not all Hunters are evil, Damien," Michael said softly. "There are still good Hunters who really help people. Example... Morgane. Rikiya, in his own twisted way. And Gayeol. You know that. But... sigh. You're right to be angry."
Damien didn't look back at the Hologram. He bent down, picked up his dagger, and continued to sharpen it. Scritch. Scritch.
"For me, Michael," Damien whispered.
He barely looked back over his shoulder, just enough for Michael to see the sorrow swimming in those obsidian eyes.
"A Good Hunter... is a Dead Hunter."
Damien turned off the Hologram. The room went dark.
"Sigh."
"Melissa," Damien whispered to the empty room. "Was your father right? Am I really the wrong one? Sigh... I just don't know anymore."
He continued to sharpen his poignant dagger. The rhythmic sound was the only thing grounding him. He knew his hate—this current personality full of pettiness, hot-tempered anger that he couldn't control—was not the "right" thing. It wasn't healthy.
But he couldn't go back. He couldn't go back to who he was when Melissa was still alive. When his parents were still alive. That Damien died in the Twin Dungeon.
Damien's life was full of sorrow and depression that haunted him to this day. Hate was the only fuel he had left.
'Let's just get this done.'
***
Present Time.The Command Hangar.
The clash was deafening.
Damien and Rikiya were exchanging blows at speeds that blurred the vision of the soldiers watching. They weren't dodging anymore. They were trading hits.
-CLANG!
-CLANG!
-CLANG!
Damien and Rikiya fought with all their might. Rikiya's clothes were shredded, his chest covered in shallow cuts from Damien's dagger. Damien was breathing heavily, sweat stinging his eyes, blood soaking the left sleeve of his uniform.
But Rikiya was laughing. He was laughing maniacally, a sound of pure, unadulterated joy.
"This is it!" Rikiya screamed, parrying a strike that would have taken his ear off. "After years... I finally found a person equal to me! Hahahahaha! You are right, Master! You are goddamn right!"
Damien frowned, parrying a thrust. 'Master?'
Rikiya's mind flashed back. He wasn't in the hangar anymore. He was in a small, tatami-matted room in Kyoto, the smell of incense and sickness heavy in the air.
"When the time is right," a frail old woman whispered from her futon. "You will find an opponent that has the same ideology and personality like yours, Rikiya."
Rikiya's Master. The Sword Saint of the previous generation. She smiled at the young, angry Rikiya.
"Really?!" Young Rikiya asked, his eyes wide.
"Mhm. You'll just need to be patient, alright?" Rikiya's Master replied, clutching his hand. "Cough! Cough!"
"Master!" Young Rikiya rushed to help her, wiping the blood from her lips.
He started crying. Even though he was young, he knew exactly what was happening. The Mana Poisoning. The curse of the strong. He wanted to cure her. He wanted to keep her alive to see him become the strongest. Even if his life was the price, he would pay it.
Because everything he was, he owed to her. If she hadn't saved him from that rogue guild—the one enslaving kids and throwing them into mines to trigger traps—he would be dead. If she didn't make him see the world with his sister, he would be a monster.
She was his parent. She was his world.
"You shan't... worry about me, my dear disciple," she whispered, her hand trembling as she cupped his face. "But promise me... cough! Promise me to take care of your sister. And..."
Her eyes focused, seeing something in the future.
"Find your worthy opponent. The one who will show you the truth of this world."
"COUGH! COUGH!"
"Master!" Rikiya sobbed, holding her as he put her back on the bed.
Back in the arena, Rikiya's eyes burned with tears and madness.
"My Master... I finally found my opponent! My worthy opponent who will show me the truth of this world!"
Rikiya laughed. He genuinely laughed for the first time in years. Since her death, he had laughed only to mock the weak. But this... this was the laughter of fulfillment. He had finally reached the truth. He finally reached his own enlightenment in this fight.
Damien looked at him, confused by the sudden shift in energy.
"That bastard's crazy," Damien muttered.
Then, Damien realized. He saw the look in Rikiya's eyes. It was the look of someone remembering the dead.
'Seems you were right, Michael,' Damien thought bitterly. 'There's still a ghost of humanity in these Hunters. Maybe there are still good ones left. But—'
Damien poured more mana into his dagger. The black markings glowed purple.
'I will still kill him! A good story doesn't excuse being a monkey!'
Rikiya stopped laughing. He wiped the tears from his eyes and looked at Damien with profound respect.
"Thanks to you! I finally reached the truth. My own Enlightenment!"
Rikiya assumed a new stance, holding his katana high above his head.
"Master's right. I would find the opponent... a chosen opponent that will show me the truth of this world! Hahahahaha! Because of this, I will thank you by showing you my new sword technique. The one I created for her!"
Rikiya poured his SSS-Rank mana into the blade.
-ZZZZZZZTTT!
The air screamed. A Demonic Aura exploded from him, but this time, it was different. It wasn't just sharp; it was heavy. It possessed the gravity of a celestial body.
"Goddamnit, Morgane! Stop them already!" a member of the WHA Council screamed, clutching his chest. He knew that aura. It was the same signature as the SSS-Rank Behemoth that had nearly sunk Bohemia ten years ago.
"That damn power... the same power Rikiya is showing right now could destroy the whole state of Nevada! That's why I am telling you, Morgane! Stop the fight!"
"Stop this fight already, Morgane! You know that damn power! You're familiar with it!"
Morgane didn't reply. She stood frozen, biting her nails until blood ran down her finger. She couldn't move. She was paralyzed by the beauty and the terror of it.
"Goddamnit!" the council member yelled.
Rikiya's eyes rolled back into his head, showing only the whites. He muttered the chant in ancient Japanese.
"Gesshoku..." (Solar Eclipse)
-WOOOOM!
The lights in the hangar shattered.
Above Rikiya's blade, a sphere of absolute darkness formed. It expanded rapidly, sucking in the light, the sound, and the hope of everyone in the room.
It was a Black Sun. A miniature star of pure destruction.
It covered the ceiling, growing larger and larger until it felt like a Solar Eclipse had descended upon them.
Damien widened his eyes in awe. He felt the heat. It wasn't hot; it was cold. A freezing burn that threatened to erase him.
'Goddamnit! That's an SSS-Class Ultimate! I need to be quick!'
Damien activated every buff he had. [Agility: S+]. [Strength: S+]. He sprinted toward Rikiya, desperate to close the distance before the sun fell.
Rikiya saw Damien approaching him. He smiled, a peaceful, beatific smile amidst the apocalypse he had summoned.
'You're right, Master. You were goddamn right. I finally found my other me!'
Rikiya swung his Katana downward.
"Sekai no Owari!" (The End of the World)
-CRASH.
The Black Sun detached from the blade.
Before Damien could reach Rikiya, he saw the goddamn Black Sun falling down to the arena. It consumed his vision. It consumed the world.
'Shit!'