Far above South Korea, Jin-Woo floated in silence with his shadow Kaisel, his Shadow Army still lingering in the Shadow Realm. The tear in the sky had long since sealed, but Jin-Woo could still sense the disturbance in the cosmic fabric.
His golden eyes glowed with a subtle intensity. To the rest of the world, this calm after the storm may have seemed like a reprieve—a return to normalcy. But for him, the Shadow Monarch, this quiet was merely a veil, thin and fragile, barely holding back the coming chaos.
With a single thought, he reached into the shadows, sending tendrils of darkness across the globe. He sought out those who might aid him in the coming battle, the Hunters who had once stood with him against the Monarchs. This time, though, it would be different. The stakes had grown beyond anything they had ever faced.
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The first shadow reached to the destination of Thomas Andre in an instant. Jin-Woo had fought alongside the American Hunter before; he knew the man’s power and confidence. But even now, Jin-Woo knew that wouldn't be enough.
In the heart of New York, within the Scavenger Guild, Thomas Andre sat back in his chair, arms crossed as he watched the projected image of Jin-Woo hovering in front of him. Despite his usual bravado, there was a cautious edge in his gaze.
“So, these gods,” Thomas began, his voice gruff but measured, “you’re telling me they’re even stronger than the Monarchs?”
Jin-Woo’s expression remained calm, though a shadow of intensity flickered behind his eyes. “Stronger. And more numerous. What you saw in Seoul was just the beginning.”
For a moment, Thomas said nothing. He tapped his fingers on the armrest of his chair, processing the information. “Alright,” he said finally. “I’ll prepare my guild. But if these things show up here, you better believe they won’t leave alive.”
Jin-Woo’s gaze remained steady. He had heard this kind of confidence before. It was the same confidence that had led countless Hunters to their deaths. “Don’t underestimate them, Thomas. The next wave won’t be as simple.”
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In Beijing, Liu Zhugang was watching the same communication with skepticism clear in his eyes. The powerful Chinese Hunter sat within his command center, surrounded by state-of-the-art technology, yet even that didn’t seem enough to calm his doubts.
“Outer Gods?” Liu leaned forward, his tone half-sarcastic, half-concerned. “Are you saying that we’re going to be invaded by deities now? What’s next, Jin-Woo, an apocalypse?”
Jin-Woo’s voice didn’t falter. “This isn’t the time for doubt. You’ve seen the footage from Seoul. This isn’t something you can handle like the Monarchs.”
Liu scoffed, though a flicker of unease crossed his features. “We’ve dealt with Monarchs before. We’re not unprepared.”
Jin-Woo’s eyes sharpened, the weight of his authority pressing through the shadows. “These aren’t Monarchs, and you barely could stand against the Monarchs. These are gods. Beings that exist outside of our reality. Take this warning seriously, Liu.”
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There was a pause on the other end, then Liu slowly nodded. “Fine. We’ll make preparations, but I hope you’re not overestimating them.”
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Far from these familiar faces, new Hunters were beginning to feel the ripple effect of Jin-Woo’s actions. In Brazil, deep within the Amazon, the leader of the Amazon Guild, Marcelo Vega, leaned against a massive tree, listening to the message Jin-Woo had sent him. Marcelo was known for his fearlessness, but in this moment, even he could sense the magnitude of what was coming.
“Gods?” Marcelo chuckled, cracking his knuckles. “Bring them on. We’ve handled everything thrown at us so far.”
Jin-Woo’s expression didn’t change, though his tone carried a subtle warning. “This isn’t about handling it, Marcelo. This is about survival.”
Marcelo shrugged, his grin not fading. “Survival? Then we’ll survive. Call me when the real fight begins.”
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In Moscow, Olga Ivanova, the cold and calculating leader of Russia’s most powerful guild, watched Jin-Woo’s transmission with a calm, analytical gaze. Known for her strategic mind, she understood the gravity of what he was saying, even if others didn’t.
“This is a larger threat than we anticipated,” she murmured, her voice carrying the weight of her realization. “We will begin preparing immediately.”
Jin-Woo gave a slight nod. Olga was a Hunter who understood the bigger picture. “Stay ready,” he said quietly. “This isn’t a fight any of us can win alone.”
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With the global Hunters contacted, Jin-Woo shifted his attention to another pressing matter—the Demon Realm. The ripple of power from the Outer Gods had not only affected Earth but had begun to creep into the ancient realms that existed outside of normal human understanding.
With a single thought, Jin-Woo vanished into the shadows, reappearing in the heart of the Demon Lords’ domain. The air here was thick with dark energy, the kind that only came from beings of immense age and power. The Demon Lords, now bound to Jin-Woo, bowed deeply as he approached.
“Something has disturbed this realm,” Jin-Woo said aloud, his eyes scanning the chaotic landscape. Here, he could sense the subtle but unmistakable traces of the Outer Gods’ influence, like invisible hands reaching through the fabric of reality, seeking to warp and twist everything in their path.
One of the Demon Lords, a towering creature of fire and shadow, stepped forward. “We have felt them too, Shadow Monarch. Their power ripples through the realms. Even here, we are not safe.”
Jin-Woo’s eyes narrowed. “So, it’s true. The Outer Gods are already affecting the realms beyond Earth.”
The Demon Lords exchanged uneasy glances, their fear palpable. Jin-Woo could sense they were holding something back, something that gnawed at them with ancient dread. But now wasn’t the time to press them for answers. There were bigger threats at hand.
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Far beyond the reach of mortal understanding, in a place where galaxies spun like dust motes, the low-level Outer Gods gathered. Their forms were monstrous, their presence an insult to reality itself, and yet they spoke in hushed whispers, plotting their next move.
“The Shadow Monarch grows stronger,” one of them hissed, its many eyes glowing faintly in the void. “But he is still only a mortal.”
Another, larger and more grotesque, twisted its form as it spoke. “We must draw him out. His power... it belongs to us.”
The third god, its voice low and venomous, added, “His army is formidable, but we will chip away at him, little by little. Until nothing remains.”
The gods’ forms shifted, rippling through space like water, their voices merging into a chorus of malevolent intent. “We will send another emissary,” one of them declared, its tone dark and final. “Stronger than the last. And then, when he is weakened... we will take what is ours.”
In the distance, the cosmic tear that had once sealed in the sky of Seoul flickered, just for a moment.
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End of Chapter 4: Divine Tension