Ten years had passed. The world had changed. The hunters, the gates, the battles—they were now distant memories. People had moved on, embracing peace. But one name remained etched in their hearts, whispered in hushed tones, feared and revered alike—Calamity Killer.

It was an ordinary night in the city. The streets were quiet, save for the occasional distant chatter and the flickering neon signs. In a dimly lit alley, an unusual glow pulsed from the darkness. A drunk man, swaying with unsteady steps, squinted at the strange light. Curiosity, or perhaps his drunken stupor, pushed him forward.

"What... is this?" he mumbled, rubbing his bleary eyes.

A gate. A circular rift of shimmering blue energy hovered in the air, its surface rippling like disturbed water. The man chuckled drunkenly. "Heh... maybe I'm dreamin’..." He stepped closer.

Then, something moved.

A figure emerged—low to the ground, moving on all fours. Red eyes. Razor-sharp fangs. A monstrous snarl.

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A hellhound.

The drunk man's amusement turned to horror. "W-what the—?!" He barely had time to scream before the beast lunged. Jaws clamped down. A sickening crunch. Blood splattered against the alley walls. His body convulsed, then went limp.

But the monster didn’t stop. It toyed with its kill, nudging the lifeless body with its claws, tilting its head as if curious. Then, it howled—a chilling, bone-deep sound that echoed through the streets.

And the gate responded.

One by one, creatures began pouring out. More hounds. Crawling horrors. Winged beasts with hollow eyes. A new nightmare had begun.

The people in the nearby streets turned to look—first in confusion, then in sheer terror. Screams erupted as the monsters charged, sinking their fangs into helpless civilians. Buildings were torn apart, cars flipped like toys. The peaceful era had made humans weak. No one knew how to fight anymore. They could only run. But where? The city had become a hunting ground.

And someone was watching.

A lone figure stood atop a tall building, the wind rustling his black coat. Crimson eyes. White hair. A face unreadable, but eyes sharp—calculating. He watched as the city burned, his fingers tightening into fists.

The air behind him shifted. A presence.

"I thought you were dead."

The figure didn’t turn. He simply exhaled, eyes still locked onto the destruction below.

A smirk played on his lips.

To be continued…