Damian picked up the notebook.
"Four terrorists left on this floor. Good! Seems like I've already cleared out most of them."
He frowned at the numbers anyway. The dying man had written that only four were left in the seminar hall, two E ranks and two F ranks.
But Damian didn't buy it.
People with a blade carving through their face tended to say whatever they thought would keep them alive.
The truth was usually somewhere underneath the information they offered, buried just deep enough to cost you.
He slid the notebook into his pocket, drew his gun, and kept it low at his side.
He went down the hallway, toward the seminar hall.
At the door, he crouched and eased it open, just enough to see.
****
Inside the seminar hall, every student and teacher on this floor had been herded into the center of the room.
Some were kneeling, some were curled on the floor and some had their faces pressed to the tile, crying into it because it was the only thing they could do.
The teachers stood between the students and the terrorists, most of them low rank awakeners, strong enough to handle one or two E level fighters in a fair fight, but not this. Not against eight armed men willing to execute children the moment anyone made a move.
If a teacher attacked, the kids would die first. Everyone in the room understood that. So they just stood their ground as shields... Nothing more.
The students couldn't defend themselves either.
Muffled crying spread through the hall in waves, voices breaking against each other in soft, broken pieces.
"Miss Elliot! They… they shot Ronnie…"
"R-Ryan's dead! Oh God, he's dead–"
"What are we gonna do? They'll kill us too, they'll kill all of us like they killed Mr. Patrick–"
"I don't want to die! Please, I don't want to die–"
"Bini died for me... She pushed me down and… it should've been me… It should've been me!"
Grief and terror thickened the air until it was almost hard to breathe.
Then –
"SILENCE!"
The voice cut through the hall like a whip crack.
One of the masked men, taller than the others, stepped forward. His voice carried the weight of a man used to giving orders.
"If even one of you makes another sound, I swear we will put a bullet through your fucking face! Keep crying in your fucking heads if you have to!"
The hall went dead silent.
The leader swept his eyes across the hostages, and something in his posture shifted, from menace into something almost theatrical.
Like a man settling into a speech he'd rehearsed a hundred times in his own head.
"Look at you all. Staring at us like we're monsters."
His voice rose.
"Is that what we are?! Because we killed a few of your friends and teachers?! Because we took what we had to take to be heard?!"
He spat on the floor.
"Then tell me... What about the Federation?! The ones who stole equality from every citizen the moment the portals opened?! No more equal rights, no more fair laws, just a handful of rich, powerful families deciding everything based on a single fucking word… talent!"
His free hand clenched into a fist.
"Their children are born weak? Doesn't matter! They throw resources at them until the weakness disappears! Skills, weapon arts, tutors, potions… whatever the little bastards need! But the rest of us?! The kids of the lower and middle class?! If we are born without talent, we are born without a damn future! Nothing to choose, nothing to become, just… nothing!"
His voice cracked, not from weakness, but from something that had been festering for a very long time.
"All the good jobs go to the talented! All the positions of power! All the wealth! And what are the rest of us supposed to do?! Starve quietly?! Live in filth?! Become servants to people who treat us like dogs just because we were born ordinary?!"
He turned slowly, gesturing at the hostages with his gun.
"NO! I refuse! We refuse! We will have equal rights for every single person on this earth! THE WAY IT USED TO BE BEFORE THE BLOODY PORTALS, THE ACADEMIES AND THE IMPERIAL FAMILIES TOOK IT ALL AWAY!"
His voice rose to a shout by the end, and the hall rang with silence afterward.
Hundreds of terrified students and teachers stared at him. Nobody moved or even breathed too loud.
Then –
"…What does all of that have to do with us?"
The voice was soft, young and clear as glass.
Every head in the room turned.
Luna was standing.
Mrs. Ariel,Luna's homeroom teacher, went pale and scrambled to her feet beside her, voice cracking.
"P-Please forgive her! She didn't mean anything, she's just… she's traumatized, please–"
Then she turned to Luna, eyes wide and pleading.
"Sit down!"
But Luna didn't sit.
Her face showed no panic or fear. Just a quiet, almost unnatural calm as she looked at the masked man who held her life in his hands.
The leader's head tilted.
Then he laughed… a soft, amused sound that carried more danger than his shout had.
"No, no, no, no... It's fine! It's completely fine!"
He raised a hand, waving Mrs. Ariel back.
"You, girl! Yes, you! Come forward."
Luna stepped away from her teacher despite Mrs. Ariel's frantic whispers to stop.
"I actually like your question. A very valid response to what I just said!"
He gestured with his gun.
"Now… Go on. I'd like to hear whatever you want to say."
Luna stopped a few feet from him. Her hands were steady at her sides.
"E-Everything you mentioned… It has nothing to do with us. We're students. We don't make decisions for the Federation. We can't change laws or fix any of the things you're angry about."
Her voice was quiet, but it didn't waver.
"Taking us hostage won't change anything. If you wanted people to listen, you could've protested or filed cases. This won't… this won't do what you think it will."
The leader didn't respond right away.
He just looked at her, this calm little girl lecturing him with the composure of someone twice her age.
And then he started chuckling.
The sound spread. Alongside him, the other seven masked men joined in the mocking laughter that rolled through the hall like a bad omen.
Indeed.
Not four…. But eight in total. Two stationed at each of the two doors, three standing behind the leader at the front, and the leader himself.
The information Damian had beaten out of the dying terrorist had been a lie from the start.
"Cases?"
The leader's laughter faded.
"Haha… you really are just a kid, aren't you?"
He took a step toward her.
"But I'll give you one thing, you're partly right. Taking hostages once won't change anything. I know that and we all know that."
He pointed at her with his free hand.
"But what about taking hostages twice? Three times? Ten times? A hundred?! What about every single week, at a new school, in a new city, killing a few more students each time until the whole damn Federation can't pretend it's still in control?!"
His voice dropped lower.
"They're just a government. Governments survive by keeping their people calm. And when enough parents are burying enough children, sooner or later, they'll bend. They'll have to. Because the only other option is watching the whole house burn down around them!"
He tilted his head.
"So yes, little girl~ Nothing will change today. But we're not here for today."
Then… slowly, almost casually, he raised his gun and placed the muzzle against Luna's forehead.
"But you know what? Forget all of that for now. You should be worrying about something more important."
His finger settled against the trigger.
"Like I said earlier. If there's even one more sound from any of you… we will put a bullet through your fucking face!"
BAM BAM BAM BAM!
****
Damian peeped through the door of the seminal hall.
Just enough to see inside, then snapped it closed again the instant he saw movement.
Two terrorists were stationed right at the other side of the door. Close enough that if even one of them had turned his head, Damian would've been spotted before he could react.
But they were currently watching the hostages and not the exits.
He exhaled quietly and cracked the door open again. Through the thin gap, he could see the layout, four terrorists near the front, the leader in the middle giving some kind of speech, and the hostages pressed into the center of the room.
His mind ran the math.
'Two at this door. There's another entry on the opposite side, probably two there too. Plus the four at the front. So, eight in total…. And every one of them is radiating E rank Aura.'
'That son of a bitch lied to me about the numbers.'
He wasn't surprised, just annoyed.
His hand tightened on the knife hilt, and he slid the gun back into its holster.
He needed to thin them out silently before he could risk a real engagement.
Pick them off one at a time, starting with the two at the door.
He was already planning the first kill when –
He heard Luna's voice.
Clear and calm, cutting through the silence of the seminar hall.
Asking the terrorist leader what any of this had to do with students.
And… Damian froze completely.
'Oh for fuck's sake, Luna–'