The auction hall hadn't recovered.
It wasn't going to.
Half the ceiling was gone, the marble floor cracked open where the Gate had torn through reality, and the air still carried the sharp metallic scent of blood mixed with burnt energy.
People were already pretending it was normal.
Hunters moved through the wreckage, stepping over debris and dried blood with practiced indifference. Some checked bodies, not for survivors—but for cores. Others argued quietly about compensation, damage, and who was responsible.
No one mentioned the ones who died.
That part didn't matter anymore.
Arin walked through the broken hall without slowing, one hand in his coat pocket, the other loosely holding the core he had taken.
He didn't look at the damage.
He didn't need to.
"…Cleanup phase already," he muttered.
"…Efficient."
A hunter nearby turned sharply.
"Efficient? People just died."
Arin glanced at him briefly, his expression unchanged.
"They usually do."
The hunter clenched his jaw.
"You could've helped earlier."
Arin tilted his head slightly, as if actually considering the statement.
"I did help."
"By killing it after half the room got wiped out?"
Arin shrugged.
"…Timing is subjective."
The hunter didn't respond.
Because arguing required energy.
And most of them had already spent it.
"Still making friends, I see."
Arin didn't turn.
"Marcus."
Marcus stepped over a collapsed display case and joined him, brushing dust from his sleeves like he had just walked into a mildly inconvenient situation instead of a disaster.
"You really know how to ruin an auction," Marcus said, glancing around with mild amusement.
"I didn't organize it."
"Shame. You'd be good at it."
Marcus's attention shifted to the core in Arin's hand.
"…That the one?"
Arin didn't answer immediately.
He turned the core slightly, watching the way its light pulsed unevenly.
"…Yeah."
Marcus's expression sharpened.
"That's not stable."
"No."
"And you're still holding it like that?"
Arin finally looked at him.
"It hasn't tried to kill me yet."
Marcus snorted.
"Give it time."
They walked toward the center of the collapsed floor together.
Most hunters kept their distance from that area.
Instinct.
Or experience.
The Gate was gone.
Officially.
But Arin could still feel it.
Echo Sense pulsed again, sharper this time, like something scratching at the edge of perception.
He stopped walking.
"…That's annoying."
Marcus noticed immediately.
"What now?"
Arin didn't answer.
He was looking at the air itself.
At the distortion no one else could see.
"…It didn't close properly."
Marcus frowned.
"That's not possible."
Arin glanced at him.
"Neither was that thing a minute ago."
Marcus opened his mouth to argue.
Then closed it again.
"…You're serious," Marcus said quietly.
Arin didn't reply.
Because the ground beneath them trembled.
Not enough for everyone.
Enough for him.
"…Yeah," Arin said finally.
"…I am."
The distortion flickered faintly where the Gate had been, like reality was trying to stitch itself back together and failing.
Arin stepped forward.
Marcus grabbed his arm.
"Don't."
Arin looked down at the hand, then back at Marcus.
"You're about to walk into an unstable Gate."
Arin pulled his arm free.
"…I'm about to walk into something that's still open."
"That's worse."
Arin considered that for half a second.
"…Probably."
Marcus exhaled slowly.
"You're not getting paid enough for this."
Arin adjusted the core in his hand.
"…I will be."
He pulled the scarf from his neck and wrapped it across the lower half of his face, covering his expression completely.
Marcus watched him carefully.
"You're really leaning into that whole rumor thing."
Arin glanced at him briefly.
"What rumor."
Marcus smirked.
"…You know exactly which one."
Arin didn't answer.
He stepped into the distortion.
The world shifted immediately.
The auction hall disappeared, replaced by something twisted and incomplete. The space looked similar—but stretched, warped, like it had been copied incorrectly.
The floor wasn't stable.
The walls moved slightly if you looked at them too long.
"…Unfinished," Arin muttered.
Echo Sense expanded outward instantly.
Multiple signatures.
Light.
Fast.
Moving along the walls.
"…Of course something stayed behind."
The first creature dropped from above without warning, its claws tearing through the space where Arin had been standing a fraction of a second earlier.
He stepped forward instead of back.
The dagger appeared in his hand and moved in one clean motion, sliding upward beneath the creature's jaw.
Abby's Seal activated.
Gravity collapsed downward.
The creature slammed into the ground hard enough to crack it open.
Dead.
Arin crouched and pulled the core free, glancing briefly between it and the unstable one still in his other hand.
"…Still worse."
Two more creatures rushed him from opposite sides, moving faster than the first.
Smarter.
Arin sighed quietly.
"…You're trying. I'll give you that."
The first lunged.
He shifted slightly, letting the claws pass by before driving the dagger into its side.
Gravity crushed inward.
The second came from behind.
Arin stepped forward—
Gravity twisted sideways.
The creature smashed into the wall with a sound that suggested something important had broken.
Both died within seconds.
Arin straightened, rolling his shoulder slightly.
"…Still not worth the trouble."
Then Echo Sense flared again.
Stronger.
Heavier.
Deeper.
Arin didn't move this time.
"…There you are."
Something in the deeper section of the Gate shifted.
Not rushing.
Not panicking.
Waiting.
Arin's grip on the dagger tightened slightly.
A faint smile appeared beneath the mask.
"…Finally something useful."
The ground split open.
Not violently this time.
Deliberately.
A larger shape forced its way up from beneath the broken surface, its body covered in irregular armor, its movements slower—but heavier.
More controlled.
Arin watched it for a second.
Then tilted his head.
"…You feel expensive."
The creature moved instantly.
Its first strike tore through the space in front of him, the force of it splitting the ground behind him as Arin stepped aside just in time.
"…Yeah," Arin muttered.
"…definitely expensive."
He moved this time.
Forward.
The dagger struck once, cutting across a joint in the creature's armor.
Not enough.
The creature reacted immediately, its second attack faster, heavier.
This time—
it hit.
The impact threw Arin backward, his body slamming into the distorted wall hard enough to crack it.
Pain spread across his ribs.
Sharp.
Real.
For a second, everything blurred.
Then he stood.
Blood ran down his arm, dripping from his sleeve.
Arin looked at it briefly.
"…That's new."
The creature charged again.
This time—
Arin didn't dodge.
Abby's Seal expanded fully.
Gravity twisted violently beneath the creature's body, forcing its movement downward, distorting its balance just enough.
Just enough.
Arin stepped inside its reach.
The dagger drove straight into the core.
Deep.
Precise.
Gravity collapsed inward.
Once.
Then again.
The creature hit the ground.
Didn't move again.
Silence returned.
Arin crouched, pulling the core free, feeling the weight of it compared to the unstable one.
This one was different.
Heavier.
Denser.
"…Better."
He stood slowly, exhaling.
"…Still not enough."
Behind him, the Gate began stabilizing properly this time.
Arin turned toward the exit.
"…Now it's done."
When he stepped back into the real world, the hunters outside froze the moment they saw him.
The same hunter from before spoke first.
"…You went back in."
Arin walked past him without stopping.
"…Yeah."
"What was in there?"
Arin adjusted the cores in his hand.
"…Something you wouldn't have liked."
"Did you kill it?"
Arin paused for half a second.
Just enough.
"…Yeah."
Then kept walking.
No one followed him.
No one tried to stop him.
Because whatever had walked back out—
wasn't something they understood.
One hunter exhaled slowly.
"…He went back into an unstable Gate."
Another shook his head.
"…Alone."
A third one spoke quietly.
"…That's not normal."
The first hunter looked toward the direction Arin had disappeared.
"…No."
"…It's not."