When he received his reward from the Moderator, who soon vanished into the fabric of space, chaos erupted between the reinforcements of the Border Hunters, the remaining acolytes, and a hidden hunter—the one who led the raid on this magical train, boarding both the first and second ‘sets’. Izel, drawing in fresh air after the relentless rain subsided, bore witness to another gruesome scene; a Gunslinger-like Hunter a short distance away from the train.
Before he could contemplate his next move, this elite individual took notice of the blind teen and appeared before him, offering assurance of safety amidst the chaos. Ignoring the hideous bloody scene and the large crack opening around the last ‘set’, he pondered how the blind teen must have fought for his dear life. Amidst the misunderstanding, the chaos uphill between the Border Hunters and acolytes ceased with the final rumble of thunder.
‘Is it over?’ Izel briefly pondered as the Border Hunter near him vanished after extending cordial courtesy, perhaps to the first ‘set’. He let out a deep breath, relieved that the hunter hadn’t inquired about the events of the previous bloody scene. Explaining away any discrepancies would have been an uphill battle between lies and truth, and even if attempted, there was no guarantee the Hunter would be believed anyway.
‘After all,’ Izel concluded, ‘for a hunter to effortlessly take down an acolyte with such precision in vital spots, they must be elite.’ Apart from that, he noticed the dense aura and subtle but distinct bodily responses, indicating that every Border Hunter dispatched here could indeed be elite.
“…”
Contemplating deeply, he channeled mana throughout his every nook and cranny, seeking to alleviate the pent-up fatigue and weariness. “Ugh!” A numbing throb on the side of his head reminded him of accumulated trauma, prompting him to head to the rehabilitation center before it erupted through its bottleneck. Dreadful flashbacks of past occurrences lingered in his mind, urging him forward…
Apparently lifeless dealer’s hollow, smiling face spoke accusingly, “WHY DID YOU KILL ME? WHY?!”
“WHY! WHY! WHY! WHY!”
Apparently lifeless Mr Blake’s hollow, resentful face spoke accusingly, “WHY DIDN’T YOU SAVE ME? WHY?!”
“WHY! WHY! WHY! WHY!”
Malicious gazes of individuals alongside dense and intense exclamations that once filled his mind flashed through his soul.
“WHY! WHY! WHY! WHY!”
Apparently lifeless Acolyte squad leader’s hollow, hideous wrinkled face spoke accusingly, “WHY DID YOU RAT ME OUT? WHY?!”
“WHY! WHY! WHY! WHY—!”
The tangled memories abruptly ceased as he snapped back to reality, his breath heavy and his heartbeat racing…
BU-DUMP!
Izel quivered violently, but soon steadied his breathing, gently massaging his throbbing head and taking slow, deliberate breaths to regulate his heartbeat. He needed to move swiftly with his test. “Just hold on a little longer,” he urged his accumulated trauma.
TMP! TMP!
His [Cloud Boots] parted the disheveled floors as the cool wind fluttered droplets into the open crack, tickling his face, Izel realized he had absentmindedly reached the fourth set. The flickering overhead fluorescent revealed the chaos of the previous encounter.
“…”
He sighed, realizing he’d been lost in thought, causing his journey to take longer than expected. Nonetheless, he pushed open the door to room 604, its surface marred by numerous cracks from previous chaos. Despite the exterior damage, the interior remained intact. Though the interior remained intact, Izel deftly clapped his hands to locate his seat before stomping over.
Amidst the semi-small ripples dancing around the room, Izel sensed numerous cuts and marks as the dim neon light cast eerie shadows, accentuating the cuts and marks scattered throughout the room, adding to its somber atmosphere. Fortunately, defensive magic circles were meticulously engraved throughout the train’s structure, safeguarding each set, room, and vital section; unless three out of the four neuromagical cores were destroyed, the magical train would never derail.
“…?”
Just as he was settling in, hoping for some peace and relaxation to cherish the memories of Mr. Blake, a jarring interruption disrupted his tranquility—the sound waves jammed his [Sound Reading].
“We’ve subdued all the acolytes, but the Hidden Hunter managed to slip away. Don’t worry, the magical train will arrive in the [Main Section] soon.”
“And for those fortunate survivors, whose destination is [Velk Section] are appropriately allowed to proceed!”
“Please just hold tight for a bit!”
Border Hunters moved calmly through the compartments of the magical train, reassuring panicked passengers. Among them were survivors, predominantly those in first-class compartments and others sheltered in secure areas. With this in mind, Izel extended his [Mana Inspection] and focused on his [Sound Reading], spanning through the various sections and rooms. It proved challenging to locate survivors beyond the specified individuals; most others, along with the previously aboard Hunters, had been effectively wiped out.
It was unfortunate, even with only about a thousand passengers remaining on the train. ‘I’m glad they got rid of all the weird acolytes though,’ Izel remarked, his attention fixed partially on the stormy landscape rushing past outside, releasing a heavy sigh. The demon-hidden hunter who led the train wasn’t caught; he had sneakily escaped, using the others as meat shields. All the others were killed by the border hunters. Izel, leaning close to the window, as occasional flashes of lightning adorned his bare face. He pondered how the hidden hunter raid had been a futile endeavor, bringing so many acolytes, only to be stopped by him.
‘Ah, I’m so stressed right now,’ he thought briefly, his stomach growling in protest. He patted his stomach, feeling its demand for more food. Taking a deep breath, the blind teen acknowledged that now was not the time for him to worry about that.
As the magical train neared its destination, gliding through sleek mega sections adorned with ambiance and beauty, the voice of the moderator resonated clearly through the lofty public address system, unlike during the previous heavy downpour.
“Welcome to Velk Section,” the moderator’s voice announced, distinct amidst the previous heavy downpour. “The renowned section, home to esteemed Hunters within the 2,000th of the ‘Eliluam Continental Ranks.’…”
A chill crept down Izel’s back as he recalled his encounter with the hobo-like moderator. He couldn’t shake the feeling that addressing the public was strange for him from the tone of his voice, as if he had no choice but to do it. The memory left Izel unsettled, wondering if there had been an underlying sense of obligation in the moderator’s demeanor.
SHHHHHH!
BEEP!
PING!
The hush enveloped the carriage as electronic noises pierced the air; a cacophony of beeps and pings. The overhead neon fluorescent lights flickered momentarily and lightened a bit, signaling a stop at the Velk section. Izel, feeling the disorientation lift, knew it was time for passengers to depart.
Silence lingered as they gathered their belongings and exited their ‘sets’ and ‘compartments’, their movements a mix of hesitance and urgency. The unconventional journey had left its mark, an indelible memory etched into their minds. As they navigated the passageway to the main exit of the train, a sense of caution and lingering panic hung in the air. Izel, tapping into his [Sound Reading], sensed the palpable mix of bodily nervous responses and uncertainty. Bodies tensed, and spirits offered solace to departed loved ones. It was a moment that would linger, a testament to the weight of what they had witnessed aboard this magical train.
“…”
Feeling a pang of sorrow, Izel bit his lower lip, his thoughts drifting to his late traveling companion, Mr. Blake, who had met an untimely demise. Gripping his fist tightly, he couldn’t shake off the sadness, though a sense of closure came knowing he had avenged him. Despite the somber mood, relief washed over him as he recalled that Mr. Blake could now rest in peace.
The name of the [Velk section] was unsettling to any newcomer or tourist who had escaped unscathed from the magical train’s harrowing ordeal. As the train briefly halted, passengers breathed a sigh of relief, grateful to have avoided the clutches of the acolytes.
“…”
WHOOSH!
As Izel retracted his [Sound Reading]’s expansion closer to himself, relieving the strain on both his mana and throbbing head from accumulated trauma and overthinking, the train vibrated slightly, signaling its departure.
“I can never get used to this,” Izel wondered aloud, lightning flashing through the glass window and reflecting his face as a cool breeze blew droplets of drizzle onto the window. Airships hovered above in the eerie, gloomy sky, occasionally reflecting the lightning, while sleek automobiles whizzed below and far ahead, their water-soaked signboards displaying unfamiliar, colorful letters.
DING!
As the train emitted a gentle chime, signaling its imminent departure, Izel anticipated the journey ahead. Minutes later, it surged through vibrant landscapes, weaving between steep mountain ranges cloaked in water-soaked vegetation, resembling giants donning dark green cone hats. Soon, that scene faded into mist, enveloping the past as the train journeyed into another vast valley, where fresh, water-dripping vegetation sporadically spread across wide plains.
Beyond the horizon lay the capital of the First District, the Main Section. Izel, unable to see the expanse of the land beyond the gloomy and eerie horizon, felt the urge to immerse himself in the dense ripples, electronic frequencies, and bodily responses seemingly from different people scattered about from miles ahead. As the train drew closer, his senses tingled with anticipation, more waves and magical sensations jamming each other in a symphony of excitement.
Indeed, the majesty of the [Main Section], especially to first-timers, never failed to amaze. Vibrant and colorful skyscrapers and different sizes of buildings soared toward the misty, twisted sky, sleek factory chimneys spewed grey smoke into the air, and large flying boats fluttered among the grim clouds, dyed with sparse lights
The drizzling rain intensified steadily, accompanied by a startling burst of lightning that illuminated the sky, followed by a deep rumble that pierced the misty atmosphere. Amidst the clamor of advertisements and billboards vying for attention, everyday life carried on, unfazed by the weather. The air resonated with a cacophony of sounds, from the hum of traffic to the chatter of public safety radio frequencies, enveloping the city in a blanket of societal noise pollution.
Further into the maze of tracks that snaked through the [Section]’s heart, the operation slowed to a crawl. Amidst the increasing downpour, signs and letters adorned the walls of buildings, while faint lights flickered through the moving machinery, imbuing the scene with a sense of enchantment and grandeur. As the train sped along the gleaming yet dripping steel tracks, the misty atmosphere revealed a bustling yet drowned-out [Section]’s scape, with streets and buildings growing cleaner and more organized, resembling lofty complexes nestled among the towering skyscrapers.
Mechanical watercraft, crafted from windmills and coldsteel, lined the riverbanks, while airborne vessels darted swiftly between them, adding to the spectacle.
‘Now that I’m here, it’s not all that surprising,’ he mused briefly. Yet, he couldn’t shake the odd sensation born from the memories of his recent ordeal: returning from the Fortress, riding the magical train, narrowly escaping death at the hands of suicidal acolytes who had killed Mr. Blake and battling both acolytes and their formidable leader. Above all, encountering the moderator left an indelible mark. Everything had unfolded with dizzying speed, time slipping through his fingers like sand.
In other words, whether one had overwhelming power holds little sway; what truly matters is whether one can endure the merciless trials of this world with that power. Izel understands this well, for had he not braved the dungeons of various realms and stared death in the face for seven harrowing days, he might not have survived at all. Indeed, he might have met a fate as pitiful as Mr. Blake, enjoying his afterlife in nirvana amidst a haze of endless cigarettes.
KNOCK!
A knock on the door interrupted Izel’s train of thought.
“Are you okay?” A voice filtered through the door and spoke to him as he became alert, his mind still caught in the aftermath of his musings, with his attention focused on the scattered ripples from the approaching destination. When Izel turned his head, his [Sound Reading] sensed a slightly subtle shift in the person’s tone and odd bodily responses, a telltale sign that the speaker, was perhaps a lady behind the door. Right. A long, neat silk of black hair, seemingly belonging to a lady-hunter.
“Yes, please come in.”
Upon the blind teen’s confirmation of her entry, the woman, seemingly older, about 25 years of age, looked around the interior as she stepped into the room with worried eyes and spoke, “Was there some harm done to you by the acolytes earlier?”
Izel immediately shook his head. “No. Thanks to the Border Hunters’ help, nothing happened to me. I was just thinking about something.”
“Ah. If so, I’m relieved to hear that.” She let out a sigh of relief, smiling—a smile that resembled that of a blossoming rose, soft and reassuring.
Of course, Izel couldn’t see her quite beautiful, pure white skin blending with black armor without blemishes. Contrasting black hair further accentuated her strong image. Yet, somehow, her odd bodily responses showcased the aura of a good person, with no ambiguity in her personality.
Otherwise, she wouldn’t have been worried for someone like Izel. Being a member of the [Velk Border Hunter] at such a young age meant she was a genius. Izel felt like he was living in a different world just by meeting her but tried his best to maintain his expression.
“My name is Anastasia Dunaleff,” the figurine-like Hunter introduced herself.
Anastasia… That name struck a chord in the blind teen, perhaps because he’d heard that name before during his research on his ‘Hunter Kit’ at some point. However, it was her last name, ‘Dunaleff,’ that made the full name click. It was a prestigious company known for producing armor and vests for many famous hunters in the First District. Perhaps that explained her sacred armor. Nevertheless, Izel couldn’t see what she was wearing, so he couldn’t care less.
“I am……” Izel trailed off as he tried to introduce himself. It was because…
PINGGGGGGG!!!
BEEPPPPPP!!!!
… when he was about to say his name, multiple electronic sounds signaled the magical train’s arrival at the [Main Section], as the overhead neon lights brightened up a bit. With that, Izel didn’t say anything anymore, and Anastasia turned her head to look through the window. “We have finally arrived at the [Main Section].”
SHHHHHHH!
With a sigh, Izel felt the disorientation lift as the nucleomagical-powered high-speed train slowed down from its cruising speed of 150 mph. It came to a complete stop at the futuristic and vibrant station with a brief hiss of silent steam and mana escaping amidst the downpour, the dripping steel rails flickering.
Despite the repetitive, monotonous announcements echoing seemingly from the waiting hall, Izel couldn’t see the crowded platform or the hunters from the window. However, their heartbeats, breathing, and bodily responses signaled the presence of a multitude of people, seemingly drawn by the news from the [Velk section] that unconventional means of transportation had been attacked by acolytes.
‘Words sure spread fast, like wildfire,’ Izel mused briefly as he adjusted his [Sound Reading] out the train. When they saw the appearance of the broken magical train, they started talking among themselves.
“What in the world happened to that train? It looks like it’s been through a war.”
“Yeah, heard it got ambushed by acolytes and those hidden Hunters.”
“Thank the [Velk Border Hunters] for salvaging what’s left. Otherwise, we’d be left with nothing but a scrap heap, unlike that ignorant moderat—”
One of the bystanders interrupted the latter, casting wary glances around as if afraid of being overheard.
“Hey, keep it down! We don’t need the Moderator breathing down our necks. And let’s face it, even if he wanted to, he can’t do squat about it. That’s why it’s called Unconventional,” he added, eliciting a resigned sigh from his companion—.
Izel caught snippets of their conversation with his [Sound Reading] amidst the loud-drowned-out increasing downpour, flashes of lightning, and rumbles of thunder. Hunters stepped forward, erecting a barrier to keep the curious crowd at bay, while kit reporters scurried around, trying to get a scoop through the cracks and crevices of the damaged train.
As the capital of the [First District], the [Main Section] was bustling from the get-go.
“There are so many people. It seems like the news has already spread, even in this non-stop downpour,” Anastasia remarked.
“It doesn’t matter,” Izel replied. Because it has nothing to do with him anyway.
If there’s one thing Izel might regret now, it’s that this magical train, originally supposed to go fast and straight to the Main Section, had to slow down to its cruising speed instead of its top speed. However, there was no way to get a discount for the tickets he had already paid for the delay. So, he had no choice but to let everything go and peacefully get off without any further delays.
KNOCK!
SWOOSH!
At that moment, a double knock and the closed door swung open, revealing the head hunter of the Main Section Border Hunters in a black uniform with crimson lining, rushing in.
‘What again?’ Izel couldn’t fathom the sudden fuss. He already had enough on his plate, trying to calm the surging accumulated traumas, and his stomach was growling silently. Although his mana had been partially drained by the use of Hellflame, due to the Grandmaster of Mana skill he received from the moderator, his mana recovery had improved.
“Passengers, please do not leave and wait in your seats. I have something to check,” the new Head Hunter announced.
“What is this?” Anastasia inquired.
“…”
Glancing back as the Head Border Hunter of the Main Section scanned her before asking, “Who are you?”
“My name is Anastasia from the Velk Section’s Border Hunter. I’d like to ask how the hell this happened.”
“Ah, I see. Nice to meet you. I am Head Hunter Bruno from the Main Section Metropolitan Border Hunter Agency.”
“Yes, Hunter Bruno, nice to meet you. So what is this?”
“I heard the train was attacked before entering the subway tracks.”
“Yes, that is correct. We took care of all the acolytes, though the Hidden Hunters managed to escape.”
“Damn it,” the Head Hunter clicked his tongue. Seemingly, the Hidden Hunter must be the one who orchestrated the raid, yet he got away, maybe using the other acolytes as a meat shield… just maybe. Finishing his thought, he continued, “Thank you for your hard work, but there’s something suspicious in the report we received.”
“Suspicious?” Anastasia’s eyes narrowed.
At those words, Izel became anxious, but then something caught his attention.
“Even though there were Knight-types among the acolytes led by the most deadly Hidden Hunter, there’s no way a magically nucleomagical-powered train with five nucleomagical cores protected by magic barriers would be so easily attacked,” the Head Hunter explained his findings.
“Yes,” Anastasia replied.
“It’s clear there was someone from the inside involved as well,” he continued.
“That…” Anastasia’s eyes widened in surprise, but she nodded in agreement with the Head Hunter’s words.
His assumption was correct. Izel had encountered an acolyte disguised as a train employee who dispelled the magical veil from the inside, making it easy for the other acolytes to infiltrate the train and kill the passengers inside.
“Some of the survivors might be working with the acolytes. No, maybe even with the Hidden Hunter,” the Head Hunter’s eyes briefly fell on the blind teen before returning to the female hunter. “So, we’re just trying to verify their identities. Don’t worry too much. Those whose identities have been verified will be sent back immediately.”
“I see,” Anastasia said, looking back with a relieved smile. But a cold sweat ran down Izel’s back.
They’re verifying identities, but his bamboo hat and stylish bandana are gone. Izel hated to admit it, but he disliked this kind of situation. Gently stroking his face with his fingertip as sparse, eerie lightning flashed through the window, he briefly thought, ‘This is a big deal…!’
Izel was on this unconventional means of transportation as an ordinary ex-hunter. Hell, a blind nobody. Naturally, a person named “Blind” would be listed on the list of passengers. That’s fine, but the problem is his face right now—his bamboo hat and stylish bandana belong to someone who’s irregular, not someone perfectly normal. Of course, his eyes might be scarred, but his eyes’ golden pigment was as rich as honey, so some might mistake him for a perfectly normal-looking guy.
What should he do now? He fought with the majority of the acolytes with his dull eyes closed. He didn’t lead the terrorist attack, and he was a passenger who was unfairly and coincidentally involved, but he couldn’t be proud of it either. Though he didn’t fake his identity, he limited his identity for future reasons. Anyone could do it. If he was lucky enough, he might be locked up in a “mana-restricting” cell for a few days before this situation was solved, but there’s a high possibility he would be subjected to severe torture, suspected of being an acolyte or a close acquaintance with a Hidden Hunter. If he were a normal blind person, there would be no need to restrict his identity.
Should he run away?
‘No,’ he contradicted that thought. Now, there were [Velk Section Border Hunters] on this train, and even the [Main section Border Hunters] were spread outside the train just in case. The moment he tried to run away from here, of course, he could escape perfectly with the help of his Cloud boots, his much higher agility stat, and with mana imbuing his body he could do more, but he’d be chased to every nook and cranny with every resource. Running away was the worst option. But if he stood still, his identity would be revealed.
Izel tried not to show his anxiety.
Meanwhile, the Head Hunter brought the ‘recording Kit’, which floated in midair as mana tendrils around it, with a hologram jolting out a single pinpoint, the recorded documents flashing with pictures trying to compare them with the people in the magical train.
And it input more detail into the ‘Recording Kit’ for an advanced search, “Were you staying in this room and set?” the Head Hunter asked, glancing at Izel.
“Number 604, fifth set, here’s my ticket.” Izel calmly took out a train ticket from his cloak’s inner pocket and showed it to the Head Hunter.
After confirming that the ticket was not fake, his fingers tapped the curved OLED screen of the orb-like kit and input all the details into it. As the loading animation completely vanished, he shuffled the potential result immediately.
“…604, Set 5… here it is,” the Head Hunter said, then lifted his head and glanced at the blind teen. “Two guests stayed in the room. Mr. Blake Griffin, a man in his mid-20s, and Mr. Blind, a man in his early twenties.”
“Why are you alone?” the Head Hunter asked.
“Mr. Blake Griffin…” Izel bit his tongue in sorrow, and continued, “he was swept away by a nucleomagical bomb explosion during the raid and fell off the train,” he answered calmly.
Right. He fell as he unexpectedly got blown to gibbets off the train and away by the chilly wet wind, so even his body would not be found. It was a simple and direct answer that held no lie. However, his words made the Head Hunter even more suspicious. Izel clenched his fists and desperately kept his indifferent face. If he went on like this, he’d be caught. But that didn’t mean there was no way out of this situation. ‘Escape? It’s impossible in the first place,’ he briefly thought. And the other problem was Anastasia, the woman with fluttering hair and thick yet light armor in front of him. She was the woman who, not long ago, had split in half the body of an Acolyte. And unbeknownst to Izel, she had already fought the hidden demonic Hunter.
So, she was an elite who had no hesitation in killing people. Of course, Izel had gone through the ‘Fortress’ dungeons of different niches and had faced death seven times in seven days. But… just trying to fight right now would put a target on his back. Gritting his teeth secretly at how dire this situation had gotten, he sensed her bodily responses seemingly she was smiling at him now. But when it turns out that he is suspicious, she’ll be the first to draw her sword. Considering her ability to join the Velk Section Border Hunter at a young age, she must be much more intimidating and at least a ‘High-Hunter’ rank of ‘2,002nd in the ‘Eliluam Continental rank’ than the Hunters of the highest A-rank, seemingly from their body magical aura outside the magical train.
All sorts of thoughts were swirling around in the blind teen’s head. Anastasia, who had been silently watching the situation, stepped forward. “Wait. He was not a suspect in the first place.”
“Yes?” the Head Hunter asked.
“Because he was fighting acolytes before our [Velk Section Border Hunters] arrived. I saw it with my own two eyes and my subordinate also witnessed it.”
“Did you fight?” the Head Hunter mumbled in disbelief and looked over the hologram showcasing the list again. Then he nodded his head as if he had understood something, and looked back at Izel with a changed face.
“Then it means that Mr. Blake is alive, and Mr. Blind died in the nucleomagical bomb explosion.”
‘…uh?’ Dumbfounded, Izel was struck hard. ‘No wait. What now?’ He was more aghast, feeling like beating the Head Hunter black and blue for this awful misunderstanding.
The face of the Head Hunter, who was checking the hologramic list more closely, was astonished. The same cloak, the same colored eyes, the same white-silver curled hair… “Huh? You are a new member who has been recruited to The Freelancer Organization?!” He let out.
“A Future TFO Mercenary? Really?” At the cry of Head Hunter Bruno, Anastasia also widened her eyes.
Watching the two people’s reactions, like a scene from a comedy, Izel realized how things were going. It was really unbelievable, but… They believed he was Mr. Blake just because he didn’t have his bamboo hat and stylish banana with him. It was so sudden, but Izel made a quick decision. He immediately regained his composure and nodded. “Yes. That’s right.”
He picked up the leather-imprinted suitcase that Mr. Blake had dropped before he died. It was a good idea to have it ready in advance, just in case.
“I am Blake Griffin.”
With those words, eerie lightning flashed through the window as relentless rain fell amidst the rumbling of thunder. ‘Goddammit why?’ His head throbbed as his stomach growled. ‘Ugh!’
—