In the nick of time, Seung-hoo moved.
The moment he saw a man lose his footing near the cracked edge of the bridge, his body reacted before his thoughts could catch up. The world seemed to slow around him—faces frozen in terror, arms flailing, mouths open in silent screams.
Then he was gone.
A sharp crack of air echoed as Seung-hoo shot forward like a bolt of lightning. To the people watching, it looked as if the space beside the falling man simply folded in on itself.
One second, the man was tumbling toward the river below.
The next, he was lying on solid ground, coughing and staring up at the sky.
"I—I…?" the man gasped. "I didn't fall…?"
Before anyone could answer, another scream rose from the crowd.
A woman slipped near the cracked concrete, her heel snapping off the edge.
Seung-hoo vanished again.
And again.
And again.
People only caught fragments of him—a blur of movement, a gust of wind, the faint crackle of electricity. One person felt arms wrap around them and place them safely behind a car. Another felt their coat yanked back just before their body tipped forward.
"Did you see that?!" "Someone grabbed me!" "Who was that?!" "Was that a Hunter?!"
Confusion spread as fast as fear.
No one could clearly see his face. His hood was still pulled low, but the speed at which he moved distorted everything about him—his outline stretched and blurred, his features smeared into light and shadow.
Then—
His hood flew back.
The wind ripped it off his head as he skidded to a stop near the center of the collapsing section of the bridge. His hair whipped wildly around his face, electricity faintly sparking along his arms.
For just a split second, people saw him.
Not clearly.
But enough to know someone was there.
The bridge groaned.
A terrible sound—like metal screaming and concrete crying out under impossible pressure.
The ground beneath Seung-hoo's feet suddenly gave way.
"HEY—!" someone shouted.
The concrete collapsed.
Seung-hoo dropped.
His stomach lurched as the bridge broke beneath him, chunks of stone and steel tumbling down around his body. The river rushed up toward him, cold and gray.
Six meters.
Five.
Four—
His eyes widened.
"…Damn it."
He thrust both hands upward.
"Lightning God's Hand!"
A burst of blinding light exploded from his palms.
Hands made of pure lightning shot out into the air—massive, glowing, crackling with raw power. They slammed into the broken supports of the bridge with a thunderous boom, gripping the twisted metal beams like a giant's fingers.
The falling stopped.
Seung-hoo hung in the air, suspended by nothing but electricity and willpower.
Above him, the broken bridge shuddered, half-collapsed, half-held together by the glowing hands of lightning.
Below him, the river roared.
His arms trembled.
"…Heavy," he muttered through clenched teeth.
For five long minutes, he stayed there.
Sweat ran down his face.
His jaw tightened.
The lightning flickered but didn't fade.
People on the bridge stared in shock.
Someone whispered, "Is… is he holding the bridge?"
Another shouted, "There's someone under there!"
Sirens wailed in the distance—Hunters Association vehicles and police cars screeching to a stop near the bridge entrance.
Hunters jumped out first.
One of them looked at the cracked bridge and said in disbelief, "I thought this bridge was supposed to split down the middle…"
A civilian pointed down with shaking hands.
"Somebody down there helped keep it from splitting!"
"Yeah!" another yelled. "He saved me when I was about to fall off!" "He saved my daughter!" "There was a guy moving like lightning!" "He caught people out of the air!"
Voices overlapped, frantic and emotional.
A Hunter leaned over the edge and looked down.
That's when he saw him.
A lone figure beneath the broken bridge, arms raised, glowing hands gripping the supports like anchors of light.
"…There," the Hunter murmured. "It's him."
Seung-hoo felt eyes on him.
Too many.
With one hand still holding the bridge, he lifted his other arm and reached up.
Slowly.
Carefully.
He grabbed the edge of his fallen hood and pulled it back over his head, shadowing his face once more, even as lightning continued to roar around him and the broken bridge trembled above.
One Hunter moved first.
He was built like something prehistoric—broad shoulders, thick arms, and a neck that looked like it could snap steel. His muscles bulged beneath his uniform as he stepped directly into the widening crack in the bridge.
With a deep grunt, he drove his fingers straight into the fractured concrete.
Stone crumbled under his grip, but he didn't pull away.
Instead, he locked his arms outward, bracing himself between the two splitting sides like a living wedge.
The bridge screamed under the pressure.
Veins bulged along his arms and neck. His boots slid back an inch, carving grooves into the concrete.
"Ghh—!" he growled through clenched teeth.
Someone shouted, "He's holding it!"
Another Hunter ran forward, waving at Seung-hoo from the edge of the bridge. "Let go now! We've got it covered!"
Her voice cut through the chaos clearly. She was shorter than most of the others, but her stance was steady, feet planted wide apart. One arm was stretched toward him, palm open.
"We've stabilized it!" she called. "Come on!"
Seung-hoo looked up at her.
His hood still shadowed his eyes, hiding his expression, but his mouth curved into a tired grin.
"Okay!" he shouted back.
Below him, the Hunter bracing the bridge let out another strained breath as the weight shifted slightly. His muscles flexed even harder, his whole body trembling like he was wrestling the bridge itself.
"Don't—move—too fast!" he barked.
Then another figure stepped forward.
A mage.
He looked completely out of place on a cracked bridge filled with dust and sirens. Instead of robes or armor, he wore a black tuxedo with a white shirt underneath, the sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal glowing runes along his forearms.
He calmly placed one hand against the cracked seam of the bridge.
Cold spread instantly from his palm.
"Concrete… ice," he said quietly.
The words were soft, but the mana behind them wasn't.
A pale blue wave surged outward from his hand, crawling through the crack's in the bridge like frost racing across glass. The cracked concrete hardened, turning into something half stone, half ice—locking the broken sections together in a solid frozen spine.
The shaking slowed.
The groaning stopped.
Seung-hoo felt the resistance change through the lightning hands he was using to hold the supports.
"…Now," he muttered.
He released his grip.
The lightning hands dissolved into sparks, fading into the air like falling stars.
For a split second, gravity reclaimed him.
His body dropped.
The woman Hunter leaned forward and caught his wrist with both hands.
"Got you!"
Her boots slid back slightly as she pulled, but two more Hunters rushed in to grab his arms and shoulders, helping haul him up over the edge.
Seung-hoo landed hard on his knees.
Dust puffed up around him.
He stayed there for a moment, breathing heavily, one hand pressed to the ground, the other still holding the edge of his hood down so his face remained hidden in shadow.
Around him, everything felt loud again.
People were shouting. Sirens blared. Someone was crying in relief. Another person kept repeating, "We're alive… we're alive…"
The Hunter who had wedged himself into the crack finally stepped back, his legs shaking. He dropped to one knee, wiping sweat from his face with the back of his arm.
"…That bridge almost beat me," he muttered.
The mage in the tuxedo adjusted his sleeve calmly, looking at the frozen seam in the bridge. "It'll hold for now. Don't walk on it."
Several Hunters turned their attention to Seung-hoo.
Not with suspicion.
With awe.
"…He really held the whole thing." "Did you see the lightning hands?" "That wasn't normal reinforcement magic…" "Who is he?"
Seung-hoo stood up slowly.
He dusted off his jacket, then tugged his hood down just a little more, keeping his eyes hidden.
The woman who had pulled him up studied him closely. "You saved a lot of people back there."
Seung-hoo scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "I just… ran fast."
She frowned slightly. "That wasn't just fast."
Behind them, police and emergency workers rushed past, checking civilians and guiding them away from the damaged area. Stretchers rolled by. Someone wrapped a blanket around a shaking old man. A child clutched her mother's sleeve, staring wide-eyed at Seung-hoo like he was something from a storybook.
Whispers spread.
"That's him…" "He's the one who caught people…" "Did you see his hands?" "Was he flying…?"
Seung-hoo shifted uncomfortably under the attention.
He lowered his head, the hood casting his face completely into shadow again, as the Hunters and civilians slowly began to surround him—curious, grateful, confused—all trying to understand who had just held up a collapsing bridge with lightning and bare hands.