The Steel Armor Shelter stood as it always had.
Cold.
Crowded.
Indifferent.
People moved in and out, some returning from hunts, some preparing to leave, their expressions carrying either quiet satisfaction or clear frustration, because in this place, results decided everything.
Han Chandu and Han Sen walked in without drawing attention at first, their steps steady, their bodies still carrying the fatigue from the encounter earlier, but their expressions calm, unchanged, as if nothing unusual had happened.
But that didn't last.
"…look who's back."
A voice came from the side.
Casual.
Mocking.
A few people turned, their gazes landing on Han Sen first, then shifting slightly toward Han Chandu.
Recognition.
Followed by amusement.
"…the Ass Freak," someone muttered, just loud enough to be heard.
A few quiet laughs followed.
Han Sen didn't react immediately.
Didn't stop walking.
But the words were clear.
Familiar.
Not new.
"…still attacking from behind?" another voice added, a smirk obvious in his tone.
"Careful," someone else said, laughing lightly, "stand too close and he might aim somewhere weird again."
More laughter.
Light.
Dismissive.
Han Chandu's steps slowed slightly.
Not stopping.
Just enough to notice.
His gaze shifted briefly toward Han Sen.
Watching.
Measuring.
Han Sen kept walking.
Calm.
Unbothered.
At least on the surface.
"…ignore them," Han Sen said quietly.
Not defensive.
Not angry.
Just simple.
Because reacting—
Wouldn't change anything.
They moved past the group.
But the voices didn't stop.
"They barely get anything and still act serious."
"Yeah, probably hiding nothing."
"Or maybe he's just waiting for another 'lucky hit' from behind."
The laughter faded slowly as they moved further away, blending back into the normal noise of the shelter.
Silence returned between them.
For a few steps—
Nothing was said.
Then Han Sen exhaled lightly.
"…annoying."
Han Chandu glanced at him.
"…you're used to it."
Han Sen gave a small shrug.
"…doesn't mean it's not annoying."
A brief pause.
Then—
"…it works," Han Chandu said.
Han Sen looked at him.
"…what?"
"…your fighting."
Simple.
Direct.
Han Sen stared at him for a second.
Then—
A faint smile.
"…yeah."
Because that was the truth.
Mocked or not.
It worked.
They reached a quieter part of the shelter, away from the noise, away from the crowd, where the tension of the outside world didn't disappear, but softened just slightly.
Han Sen leaned back against the wall.
"…that thing earlier," he said, his tone more serious now, "we're not ready for that."
Han Chandu nodded.
"…not yet."
A short silence followed.
Both of them thinking.
Not about the fight itself—
But what it meant.
The gap.
The difference.
"…we hunt smarter," Han Sen said.
Not a suggestion.
A decision.
Han Chandu agreed.
"…we stay in outer area."
"…and build genes first."
"…then go deeper."
Their plan was simple.
Because it had to be.
Anything more complicated—
Would fail.
Han Sen exhaled slowly, then pushed himself off the wall.
"…we need more kills."
Han Chandu didn't move immediately.
Because his attention shifted inward.
Just slightly.
For a brief moment—
That space appeared again.
Dark.
Silent.
Endless.
And within it—
The knife.
Floating.
Waiting.
Unchanging.
His Beast Soul.
Hidden.
Untouched.
Unseen by anyone else.
A weapon he hadn't used yet.
A power he hadn't revealed.
His eyes opened fully again.
Calm.
Steady.
"…we start tomorrow," he said.
Han Sen nodded.
No hesitation.
Because there was nothing else to do.
No shortcuts.
No easy path.
Only repetition.
Only effort.
Only time.
Around them, the shelter continued as always, filled with noise, movement, voices, people chasing strength in their own ways, some rising, some falling, some disappearing without notice.
But among them—
Two figures stood quietly.
Not the strongest.
Not the fastest.
Not the most talented.
But—
Still moving forward.
Even if slowly.
Even if unnoticed.
Even if mocked.
Because in this world—
Only one thing mattered.
Continuing.
And they would.
No matter how long it took.