The dungeon core hovered before me, its surface a radiant blue sphere that pulsed with an inner light. It was mesmerizing in a way, but I couldn’t afford to be distracted. My victory over the dungeon boss had been satisfying, though not challenging enough to leave me winded. I stood there, letting my aura settle, and glanced at the black ring on my finger.

I’d been analyzing this thing the entire time. The moment Yaksha handed it to me, I’d suspected something was off. It had the same foundational structure as the ring Ayla had planted on me years ago. The realization hit me like a freight train: the World Order had been targeting me all along. This wasn’t just a random mission or some coincidental alignment of interests. They’d been laying the groundwork for this for a while.

I’d played along with Yaksha’s little game long enough. It was time to act.

The ring’s primary function, as Yaksha explained, was to teleport me outside the dungeon. But after digging deeper into its structure, I uncovered a hidden layer. The ring was rigged with a spatial anchor—a trap meant to hold me in place indefinitely. Classic World Order trickery. Too bad for them, I wasn’t the same person they’d tried to manipulate back then.

I made my modifications, overriding the trap and reprogramming the teleportation function. With a flick of my aura, I activated it. The world blurred for a moment, the familiar sensation of spatial displacement washing over me, and then I was standing a short distance away from the dungeon entrance.

The van we’d arrived in was parked nearby, exactly where we’d left it. Standing just outside, leaning against the side and looking as casual as ever, was Fu. His eyes were closed, and for a moment, I thought he was asleep. Then, without any visible movement, his eyes snapped open and locked onto me.

“Well, well,” he said, his tone calm but with a sharp edge. “What’s the meaning of this, Reynard? I hope this is just a misunderstanding.”

I met his gaze, unflinching. “You’re the real leader of this unit, aren’t you? Yaksha’s just a stand-in.”

Fu’s lips curled into a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re sharper than I gave you credit for. Fostering the next generation is a very important thing, you know. Yaksha needs the experience.”

“And you need a fall guy,” I shot back.

Fu chuckled, pushing himself off the van. “You’re not wrong. But tell me, what exactly do you plan to do now that you’ve figured this out? You’re a clever man, Reynard, but cleverness only gets you so far.”

I didn’t respond immediately.

Instead, I adjusted the ring on my finger, feeling the weight of the moment settle over me. This was the point of no return. Whatever came next would decide how this game played out—and I intended to win.

I crossed my arms and stared Fu down. “Tell me what the World Order desired to achieve by organizing the attack on my party five years ago.”

Fu didn’t flinch, his expression as calm as ever. “The protection of the asset known as Ulrich,” he replied smoothly. “Thomas was a sleeper agent of the World Order. Do you know? The Hunting Dogs’ method of creating agents was very similar to ours. I don’t mean to brag, but the Hunting Dogs copied our methods. Sorry, sorry…” He gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “I’m so old, I tend to reminisce and boast about stuff.”

I let his words hang in the air, mulling them over. So, it had all been about Ulrich. I’d suspected as much, but hearing it confirmed still made my jaw clench.

The World Order. I’d written them as a chivalric knightly organization, dedicated to protecting the world. Noble on the surface, but rotting from within. They weren’t supposed to be the final boss of Hunterworks. They were a force meant to shape the narrative, to challenge the protagonist’s ideals and drive the story forward.

The final boss? That was Ulrich.

Targeting him had been more about my greed than anything else. I should’ve stopped when I succeeded in killing the Prophet. The Prophet—he was the one who would have caused my and Leora’s deaths in the first place. That should have been enough.

In an alternate timeline, referring to the original story I’d written, I should already be dead by now. Leora would still be alive, mourning me. In a different timeline, the one where I’d stopped after killing the Prophet and letting Ulrich the Elsewhere Saint go, Leora and I would still be alive. We’d probably live a long, peaceful life together. My son wouldn’t hate me.

But this wasn’t an alternate timeline. This was the one I was stuck in, and the weight of every choice I’d made bore down on me like a leaden chain. I clenched my fists, focusing on the present.

“Where is Leora?” I asked, my voice steady but low.

Fu’s smile widened, his eyes glinting with something unreadable. “Ah, the question I was waiting for. You always circle back to her, don’t you? Love and guilt, the twin pillars of your existence.”

I took a step forward, my aura bristling. “Don’t test my patience.”

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“Patience?” Fu laughed softly. “You don’t have much of that left, do you, Reynard? Fine, I’ll indulge you. Leora is safe. Safer than you could ever make her. But if you’re so determined to find her, you’ll have to deal with me first.”

I didn’t hesitate. “If you’re standing between me and her, then I’ll tear you down.”

Fu sighed, shaking his head. “Always so dramatic. Very well, Reynard. Show me if you’re as formidable as the stories say.”

I equipped the Power-build, selecting attributes tailored for the situation: Strength for overwhelming force, Toughness for resilience, Swiftness for precision, and Weakness to disrupt Fu’s balance. The aura around me shifted, a potent cocktail of power coiling within my body like a spring ready to snap. I crouched slightly, tension in my legs, one hand raised with my palm open in a deceptively relaxed manner.

“Hey,” I said, a smirk tugging at the corner of my lips. “Do you want me to let you in on a secret?”

Fu flicked his robe, his movements sharp and deliberate as he shifted into a tiger stance. His legs spread wide, and his arms were coiled with energy, ready to strike. “Oho~” he said, his tone dripping with confidence. “There isn’t a thing I don’t know about you.”

“Is that so?” I chuckled, straightening slightly. “Then let me enlighten you. The one who made the Gift Registry Department possible? The one who created and disseminated the Gift Theory? The one who helped Bob raise the Hunter Academy?” I leaned in slightly, my voice dropping to a deadly whisper. “That’s all me.”

For a moment, Fu’s composed facade cracked. His eyes widened, the shock clear as day. It was the opening I needed. In a flash, I closed the distance between us, my knife hand slicing through the air toward his neck. He reacted quickly, dispersing the force of my strike by expanding his aura at the point of impact. A smart move, but I wasn’t done.

I ducked low as his counter kick whistled over my head, the air displacement enough to sting. Without hesitation, I swept his legs from under him, aiming to disrupt his stance. Fu flickered, summoning a portal just before my strike connected. He reappeared a few meters away, his expression calm but his stance guarded.

“Quick reflexes,” I said, straightening up and brushing off my sleeves. “But let’s be real. The World Order loves their status quo, don’t they? Clinging to it like a child to a security blanket.” I took a step forward, letting my aura ripple outward, an unspoken challenge. “Do you know what? I’m going to break it.”

Fu’s expression hardened, his aura flaring in response.

“And I’m going to enjoy doing it,” I finished, my grin turning predatory.

Fu sighed, shaking his head as though scolding a wayward child. “You should cut an old man like me some slack,” he said, his tone light but with an undercurrent of tension.

I smirked, raising my right hand and wiggling my fingers. “It should be me telling you that. One arm, remember?”

His eyes narrowed, his stance shifting ever so slightly. “You’re just a child who doesn’t know the immensity of the distance between heaven and earth!”

I shrugged. “I’d say twelve miles is a good guess.”

Fu clapped his hands together, and the air around us seemed to ripple unnaturally. “Otherworldly Horrors of the Beyond!” he intoned, his voice echoing like a thunderclap.

The world around me shifted. Colors bled out, replaced by an oppressive monochrome. The air felt heavy, suffocating, as though reality itself had been unraveled. Everything turned grayscale—except for me.

Fu grinned, his expression one of triumph. “I’ve turned the world into a portal. Everything here is part of it, except you. This technique takes a toll on me, true. Sadly, I still can’t compare to Mr. Silhouette.”

From the monochrome ground beneath me, eldritch tentacles erupted, writhing and pulsating as they reached out to ensnare me.

I glanced at the encroaching limbs, unimpressed. “Cool power,” I said, cracking my neck. “But nah, I’ll win.”

I focused my aura, bending the space around me with precision. The monochrome world fractured like glass, shards of its eerie hue scattering in all directions as the vibrant colors of reality returned.

Fu stumbled, his eyes wide with disbelief. “What?”

He clapped his hands again, summoning a portal behind him, but the swirling vortex dissolved the moment it formed.

“What’s happening?” he demanded, his voice edged with panic.

I raised my hand, curling my fingers except for the one where the black ring should have been. I wiggled it for emphasis. “Spatial anchor,” I said casually. “Remember?”

Fu’s gaze dropped to his own hand, and his face paled when he saw the black ring now snug on his finger—the same ring I was supposed to be wearing.

“H-how? When?”

I shrugged, smirking. “Slipped it on you during our little skirmish earlier. You’re not as sharp as you used to be, old man.”

Fu took a step back, but there was no escape. The spatial anchor had him locked in place.

I flexed my fingers, my aura sparking around me. “Now,” I said, my grin turning wicked, “I’m going to take my sweet time hurting you real bad, old man.”

I shifted my aura, letting the Soul-build attributes take over—Connection, Puppetry, Weakness, and Homing. The moment the shift completed, I felt the familiar, subtle hum of power coursing through me, like strings of energy waiting to be plucked.

Fu clawed at the black ring on his finger, desperation etched into his face. “Damn it!” he cursed, tugging and twisting to no avail.

I smirked. “Don’t bother. It’s not coming off.”

With the Weakness attribute already infecting him from our earlier clash, my aura had latched onto his like a predator sinking its teeth into prey. I raised my hand, drawing on the connection, and a spectral chain materialized from the air, wrapping around his throat like a serpent.

Fu’s eyes widened, and he clawed at the chain, gasping as I gave it a sharp tug. “Gotcha,” I muttered.

I yanked hard, dragging him toward me with a burst of force. As he stumbled forward, I caught him by the throat with my one hand. My body moved unnaturally, the Puppetry attribute amplifying my strength far beyond human limits.

With a single motion, I slammed him into the ground. The impact sent cracks spiderwebbing through the stone, leaving a small crater beneath him. Fu groaned, his aura flickering weakly as more chains manifested around him, binding his arms, legs, and torso.

I crouched over him, tightening the chain around his throat just enough to make my point. “Now,” I said, my voice low and menacing, “I’m going to ask real nicely… Where. Is. Leora?”

Fu wheezed, coughing as he struggled to meet my gaze. Then, to my surprise, he started laughing—a dry, rasping sound that sent a chill down my spine.

“Dead,” he said, grinning like a madman. “She’s dead.”

My grip on the chain faltered for a split second, the words cutting through me like a blade. “You’re lying,” I said, though my voice lacked conviction.

Fu’s grin widened, his teeth bared in a feral snarl. “Am I? You’re chasing ghosts, Reynard. You always have been. And in the end, it’ll destroy you.”

I tightened the chain again, my heart pounding. “You’d better hope you’re lying,” I hissed. “Because if you’re not, I’ll make you wish you were.” But even as I said it, a seed of doubt took root in my mind, threatening to grow into something far darker.