The van’s hum filled the air as we cruised down the dimly lit streets. Carlyle sat in the passenger seat, casually fiddling with a small gadget while Sasha sat beside me, her arms crossed and her expression unreadable. Yaksha was seated directly in front of me. He leaned back in his seat with a faint smirk playing on his lips as he started speaking.

“A professional question for you, Reynard,” Yaksha began, his tone calm but probing. “How often do hunters participate in dungeon captures?”

I shrugged. “I have no idea. But from what I understand about the Hunter’s Association, dungeon regulation is part of their responsibilities.”

Yaksha tilted his head. “And you? How often do you dive into dungeons?”

“Rarely,” I admitted.

Yaksha nodded, his smirk widening. “That tracks. It is the Hunter’s Association’s responsibility to handle dungeons. But here’s the thing—hunters rarely bother with such thankless missions. They’d rather take out a human target because it’s easier, the pay’s better, and the rewards are immediate. Even more appealing is venturing outside the World Wall for treasure hunting or monster subjugation. The risks are higher, but the rewards are leagues beyond what dungeons within the Wall can offer.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “What are you getting at?”

“Just play along,” Yaksha said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I’m giving you background on our rivals today—DERT. The Dungeon Emergency Response Team.”

I raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.

“On paper,” Yaksha explained, “DERT was created as a rescue unit—trained aura soldiers ready to intervene when civilians or VIPs got caught up in dungeon incidents. But their true purpose? To wrest dungeon subjugation duties from the Hunter’s Association. Surprisingly, it wasn’t the government screwing up with their usual cloak-and-dagger antics this time. It was the Association’s own president at fault.”

I sighed. “Are you suggesting some conspiracy? It doesn’t interest me.”

“Now, now,” Yaksha said with a chuckle. “I know you’re friends with Bob. But hear me out. DERT has been operating for the past ten years, and thanks to Bob offering the government access to dungeons, they’ve managed to tighten their grip on the industry. Don’t you see where this is heading?”

I didn’t respond, but my silence seemed to encourage him.

“The mysterious power of aura has been publicly advertised to the world,” Yaksha continued, his tone growing more serious. “The Hunter World is on the verge of a new era. Civilians are dreaming of becoming hunters, getting rich quick, and living glamorous lives. Meanwhile, new hunters, inexperienced and naive, are being coerced or manipulated into diving into dungeons. Most of them will die. And the few who survive? They’ll be the cream of the crop—the elite hunters the system is designed to create. It’s all one big con, sacrificing many to find a few promising gems.”

“Get to the point,” I snapped, tired of his prattling.

Yaksha chuckled again, unfazed. “I know you are aware of the bigger picture, Reynard. Of course, you know what I’m talking about. But let’s not pretend you’re above the intrigue. You know better than anyone that the game behind the game has always been in play. Bob had dreams of spreading aura knowledge for the sake of enlightenment, sure. He created the Hunter’s Academy to foster heroes. But to achieve his vision, he had to make concessions. He had to cut deals, and those deals have consequences.”

I leaned back in my seat, my fingers tapping against my thigh as I mulled over his words. Yaksha wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know, but hearing it laid out so plainly still stung.

“Bob’s concessions weren’t perfect,” I said finally. “But they were necessary.”

“Necessary for who?” Yaksha shot back, his smirk fading. “For Bob? For the government? For the people who benefit from the sacrifices of the many?”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to.

The van turned a corner, and the neon glow of Lomar’s streets cast eerie reflections on the windows. This city of pipes, chrome, and shadows felt like the perfect backdrop for the kind of games we were about to play.

The Government’s intentions had always been transparent to me: accumulate power at any cost. For years, they had sent the Association’s hunters to the frontlines of the forbidden regions to stem the cryptid invasion, sacrificing lives to maintain a fragile balance. But what about Yaksha? And the organization he represented—the World Order?

This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

Three pinnacle organizations safeguarded humanity:

* The Government, tasked with protecting and governing the mundane populace.

* The Hunter’s Association, which regulated aura-practice and maintained order among hunters.

* And the World Order, an enigmatic entity balancing the two, ensuring neither descended into unchecked corruption.

For years, the World Order had worked in the shadows, uprooting organizations that sought to undermine both the Government and the Association. They didn’t seem to operate on any rigid principles beyond what was necessary to maintain equilibrium. That’s what made their recent active movements so puzzling. The Order rarely acted without clear purpose. So why now?

Yaksha interrupted my thoughts. “You’re quiet, Reynard. Something on your mind?”

“What are we stealing?” I asked, my tone sharper than I intended.

Yaksha’s lips curled into a faint smile. “We’re not stealing an object, just so you know... We’re stealing a person—a member of DERT.”

I blinked, concealing my surprise. A person? All this time, I’d assumed we were after some artifact or classified tech. Yaksha had referred to the target as a "treasure," and I hadn’t thought to question it.

Yaksha reached into his coat and handed me a sleek black ring. Its surface gleamed faintly, as though pulsing with its own inner energy.

“This ring has a teleportation function,” Yaksha explained. “It’ll work even inside dungeon walls. You’ll use it once we secure the target.”

“And what exactly do you need me to do?” I asked, slipping the ring onto my finger.

“You’ll destabilize the dungeon core,” Yaksha said matter-of-factly. “Once the core collapses, it’ll cause a spatial implosion that erases all evidence of our actions. Meanwhile, we’ll take care of the other DERT members. No witnesses.”

So, I had to use the ring before I got caught up in the spatial explosion.

I leaned back in my seat, my mind racing. A dungeon core collapse wasn’t just risky—it was catastrophic. The core stabilized the pocket dimension within the dungeon. Without it, the entire structure would implode, potentially dragging everything inside into oblivion.

“And you’re sure about this?” I asked, keeping my voice steady.

Yaksha’s smile widened. “This isn’t my first dance, Reynard. Trust me.”

Trust? That was rich coming from him.

I glanced down at the ring, its cold surface pressing against my skin. This wasn’t just a mission—it was a gamble, and I hated gambling when the stakes were this high. But Yaksha had a point. If we left evidence behind, it wouldn’t take long for the Government or the Hunter’s Association to connect the dots.

“Fine,” I said, crossing my arms. “But if this goes sideways, I’m not taking the fall for your plan.”

“Noted,” Yaksha replied, his smirk never faltering.

We pulled up a few blocks from the dungeon entrance, the van’s engine humming as Carlyle leaned forward, listening intently to the gizmo in his hand. His sharp blue eyes darted between the screen and the surroundings.

“They’re inside,” Carlyle announced, his voice calm but deliberate.

Fu nodded and raised a hand. A shimmering portal, crackling faintly with energy, materialized in front of us. Without hesitation, he drove the van through it, and in the blink of an eye, we were inside the dungeon.

The shift was immediate. The air grew heavy, charged with the unmistakable aura of a dungeon—a mix of primal energy and the faint metallic tang of danger. Fu pulled the van into a shadowy alcove, blending seamlessly with the jagged rock formations.

“I’ll stay here,” Fu said, cutting the engine. “Getaway duty. No one’s leaving without me.”

I stepped out, glancing at the rest of the team. It was an unusual composition, I had to admit. Two teleporters, Fu and Yaksha, serving vastly different roles. Carlyle and Sasha were clearly the main combatants, and I… well, I was the wild card.

Yaksha clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Carlyle and Sasha are more than enough to handle DERT’s muscle. Once we make contact, your job is to punch through their defenses and head straight for the dungeon core. Do not deviate.”

I raised an eyebrow. “And the comms?” I’ve never been in a dungeon with a party before, so I had to ask.

“They won’t work in here,” Yaksha said with a shrug. “Give it fifteen minutes. That’s your window to destabilize the core.”

I frowned. “Fifteen minutes isn’t much time.”

“It’s all we need,” he replied confidently.

The man had a knack for exuding unshakable assurance, which, if I were being honest, only made me more suspicious. They were putting a lot of trust in me, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that Yaksha’s confidence wasn’t just in his team—it was in his ability to control the situation, including me.

We moved toward the dungeon entrance with practiced efficiency. It was a large, gaping maw carved into the earth, jagged rocks framing its ominous descent. Surprisingly, there were no guards stationed outside. Either they’d been dealt with in advance or DERT had pulled them inside.

I followed at the rear, watching the team as they slipped into formation. Sasha led the way, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword, while Carlyle stayed close behind, his every movement deliberate and poised. Yaksha trailed slightly behind them, his presence almost ghostlike.

As we crossed the threshold, the oppressive energy of the dungeon pressed down on me like a lead weight. The walls shimmered faintly with veins of glowing minerals, and the air was thick with the sound of distant growls and shifting stone.

Yaksha glanced back at me, his expression unreadable. “Remember the plan, Reynard. Stick to it.”

I gave a curt nod. It wasn’t lost on me how much trust they were placing in me to execute my part of the operation. Then again, this was Yaksha’s game, and trust didn’t feel like the right word. Confidence, maybe. Control, definitely.