Place : Divine Temple, Tenth Floor
The ancient structures of the world held many secrets, but few were as imposing or as structurally magnificent as the Divine Temple. Rising high into the heavens, it stood as a monument of absolute authority and power, a place where individuals of immense talent gathered to test their limits and prepare for the harsh realities of the world outside. Among its many levels, the tenth floor held a uniquely specialized purpose. It was not a place designed for active combat, nor was it a training ground littered with equipment and arcane targets. Instead, it was an open, vast expanse meant for assembly.
Ten or twelve massive pillars, carved from reinforced stone and imbued with protective energy, stood at precise intervals across the floor. They served as the primary support system keeping this entire level from collapsing under the immense weight of the floors above. They were the literal backbone of the architecture. If even half of these pillars were to break or shatter during a conflict, the structural integrity of the ceiling would instantly fail. Deep, jagged cracks of war would ripple across the upper stonework, causing massive debris to rain down and destabilizing the entire upper half of the temple.
Surrounding this vast area was a perimeter made almost entirely of glass windows. The maintenance of this floor was handled with absolute perfection; the glass was so flawlessly clean, polished to such a mirror-like sheen, that anyone standing near the edge and looking out at the sprawling scenery below would simultaneously see their own reflection staring back at them with absolute, crystal-clear clarity. It was like looking into a still pond hanging in the sky. Beneath the boots of those who visited, the floor was composed of pure white concrete. To ensure the design did not appear too stark, barren, or utterly simple, elegant gold stripes were meticulously inlaid into the surface, drawing long, geometric patterns that broke the monotony of the white stone and added a touch of regal elegance.
When compared directly to the other levels of the Sacred Temple, the tenth floor was universally recognized as the emptiest location. The reason for this barren design was entirely practical. This was the official gathering ground, a specialized zone where distinct groups would meet, introduce themselves, and form camaraderie before descending into the dangers of their assignments. If a specific mission was deemed highly dangerous particularly if the quest's difficulty parameter explicitly required at least two Rank 1 individuals to guarantee success the temple guardians would utilize this very floor to assemble a properly balanced squad.
Today was Sunday, a day that was widely accepted throughout the entire temple hierarchy as the time when no new quests remained available. The weekly cycle of duties always renewed on Mondays, bringing a fresh surge of contracts, hunts, and investigations. The subsequent days of the week were typically spent in a relentless pursuit to complete those tasks. Because of this rigid schedule, Sunday had naturally evolved into an official day of rest for the guardians and candidates alike. Of course, the lack of official paperwork did not mean the world stopped being dangerous. Monsters, anomalies, and wild creatures could still suddenly manifest without warning anywhere in the territory, but such spontaneous threats were always handled swiftly by the elite individuals who held the prestigious Rank 1 status.
If someone were to stand at the main entrance of this massive floor and cast their gaze all the way across the white concrete toward the panoramic windows, they would notice a single person standing completely still, watching the distant horizon.
The man stood like a statue, dressed in a sleek, midnight-black assassin's costume that seemed to absorb the light reflecting off the floor. The specialized attire was fully equipped with both a concealment mask and a deep hood, yet he currently chose to leave his face completely uncovered. Walking around the safe, administrative sectors of the temple with a fully drawn hood and mask would look incredibly suspicious, drawing unwanted scrutiny from the guard details. His hair was an unusual, chaotic blend of black and crimson strands. It was not a seamless mix, nor did it look like a conventional dye job; rather, certain sections of his head grew entirely black hair, other patches were a deep, blood-red color, and a few sparse areas blended the two tones together in a rough gradient. Standing at a height of exactly 1,74 meters, he did not possess an physically imposing stature, yet his presence was deeply unnerving. To be more precise, he seemed to lack a presence entirely. It felt as though his very existence, his life force, and his physical weight had been completely erased from the surrounding atmosphere, making him nearly imperceptible to ordinary sensory perception.
His eyes were even more striking and terrifying than his silent aura. They did not have standard irises or pupils, nor were they defined by a simple, static color. Instead, both of his eyes took the shape of swirling vortexes formed from absolute, bottomless darkness. Staring into them was a harrowing experience, akin to gazing directly into an infinite void. However, if an observer had the mental fortitude to peer into the deepest, most central depths of those dark whirlpools, they would discern a faint, menacing, and crimson glint hidden within the core. During his original guardian examination, his eyes had not possessed this terrifying complexity; back then, they had held nothing but a boundless, horizonless darkness.
This individual was undeniably Harry Bloodhood.
A profound, fundamental transformation had taken place within his body and soul, leaving anyone who knew his past to wonder what kind of extreme event could have triggered such a drastic alteration. His aura was now completely hidden, rendering him a totally different person from the boy he used to be. Lost in the depths of his own mind, Harry continued to stare through the immaculate glass window, his thoughts entirely focused on the immediate future.
Harry (In His Mind) : They will come soon...
Slowly, deliberately, Harry closed his eyes, shutting out the reflection of the white concrete and the golden lines. In the absolute darkness behind his eyelids, his focus shifted inward. Within his mind's eye, a perfectly smooth sphere synthesized entirely from highly concentrated, crimson blood manifested out of the void. Extending his right hand forward toward the imaginary orb, his fingers remained open for a fraction of a second before he began to slowly curl them into his palm, tightening his grip.
In perfect synchronization with the movement of his physical hand, the blood sphere in his mind began to compress. The harder Harry squeezed his right fist, the more compact, dense, and highly pressurized the crimson orb became, its surface trembling under the sheer force of his mental manipulation. The exact moment his fingers locked into a complete, tight fist, the blood sphere violently fractured, splitting into six distinct pieces. Each individual fragment immediately began to rapidly shift, warp, and contort to take on a completely unique shape.
Five of the fragments drifted outward through the mental void, arranging themselves into a precise, geometric star formation that hung suspended in his consciousness. The sixth and final piece drifted directly into the focal point of the arrangement, occupying the exact center of the star. With the structural positions firmly locked, the six blood spheres began to mold themselves into intricate, terrifying countenances.
The first fragment, positioning itself at the very peak or the topmost point of the star formation, twisted and solidified until it perfectly resembled the brutal, heavy, and aggressive facial features of a massive gorilla. The second piece, claiming the right arm position of the star, sharpened its edges and lengthened its form, shifting into the sharp, predatory head of a hunting hawk. Directly across from it, the third piece occupying the left arm took on a thick, dense structure, carving out the formidable shape of a roaring bull. Down below, the fragment resting at the bottom-left leg of the star split slightly down the middle, forming the distinct images of two feral wolf heads standing tightly side by side. The fifth piece, anchoring the bottom-right leg, warped its dimensions, flattening out into the leathery, pointed, and skeletal visage of a bat. At the absolute epicenter of the star, the sixth piece flattened completely, taking the smooth, reflective shape of a mirror. Its true arcane meaning and ultimate purpose within his technique remained shrouded in mystery. Harry slowly lowered his physical right hand, opening his eyes as he looked upon the mental blueprints of his creation.
Harry (In His Mind) : How can I make the Blood Summons flawless? If I use the gorilla as a base, everything will go smoothly, but if I use the hawk first, the bat will definitely interfere. That's why I need to use the bat first, then the hawk... It looks like I found the perfect combination... Now, how am I going to do this...
Suddenly, the faint, rhythmic reverberation of incoming footsteps broke through the silence of the tenth floor, instantly snapping Harry out of his deep concentration. Breaking away from his tactical thoughts, he shifted his sharp attention toward the distant rear entrance of the hall. The sound belonged to two separate individuals who were currently ascending the main stone stairwell. One of them moved with heavy, deliberate, and exceptionally loud steps that echoed sharply off the white concrete, while the companion walked with a much lighter, yet still distinctly audible pace.
As soon as their faces emerged from the top of the stairs, Harry casually and smoothly turned his back to them, returning his gaze to the outdoor scenery beyond the glass window as if they were entirely irrelevant to his presence. The duo fully stepped into the open expanse of the tenth floor, deeply engaged in a casual conversation as they crossed the threshold into the hall.
Enzo : What I mean is... Look at that, he arrived before the two of us.
Enzo paused mid-stride, raising his right hand to aggressively scratch his head in sheer frustration. The assassin's name seemed to completely slip through his fingers, eluding his memory entirely despite how many times he had heard it. He narrowed his eyes, staring at the ceiling and thinking intensely for a few seconds until a sudden, sharp spark of realization hit his brain. He proudly snapped his finger in the air.
Enzo : Narry!
Before the echo of his mispronounced shout could even fade across the empty room, the young man standing right beside him brought his palm down hard against the back of Enzo's head with a loud smack.
Michael : You idiot, his name is Harry Bloodhood.
Having thoroughly and sharply scolded Enzo for his complete lack of memory, Michael immediately turned his attention toward the silent assassin standing by the window, his entire posture stiffening with a wave of polite anxiety.
Michael : Sorry, my friend has a bit of a goldfish memory and is an idiot. Don't mind him.
Michael remained visibly tense, his shoulders rigid and his muscles locked as he waited for any sort of acknowledgment or reaction. However, Harry remained entirely unmoved by the apology, continuing to look out into the distance as if the two newcomers did not exist in his world at all. Seeing that no immediate conflict or hostility was brewing from the dangerous candidate, Michael let out a quiet, prolonged sigh of relief, the internal panic in his chest finally subsiding. Enzo, meanwhile, was aggressively rubbing the back of his head where he had been struck, glaring furiously at his companion.
Enzo : Why did you hit me!
Instead of offering a verbal explanation or engaging in an argument, Michael instantly clapped his hand firmly over Enzo's mouth, cutting off his speech, while simultaneously raising his left index finger to his own lips to signal for absolute silence. Utilizing his internal energy reserves, Michael swiftly activated his personal technique, constructing a translucent, shimmering barrier around the two of them to completely isolate their voices from the rest of the massive floor.
Michael (Quietly) : Be a little careful, you absolute moron.
Enzo, still thoroughly annoyed by the physical strike and the sudden restraint, gave Michael's shoulder a rough, aggressive shove to create some physical space between them.
Enzo : Instead of hitting me, covering my mouth would have been much more logical!
Michael closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and letting out a weary, exhausted sigh before shaking his head at his friend's complete lack of situational awareness.
Michael : Okay, okay, sorry, but the person over there is Harry Bloodhood.
Enzo tilted his head slightly to the side, his facial expression remaining completely blank and unbothered.
Enzo : So?
Placing his right hand firmly onto Enzo's shoulder, Michael leaned in much closer, his voice dropping to a deadly serious, whispered tone within the safety of the barrier.
Michael : Harry Bloodhood, he is currently the family leader candidate of the Bloodhood Cult.
The Bloodhood Cult was an organization deeply steeped in historical infamy and terror. Throughout the generations, they were renowned across the entire continent, though never for deeds of benevolence, heroism, or charity; their legacy was built entirely upon a dark foundation of cruelty, slaughter, and malevolence. Throughout history, their members had claimed the lives of countless skilled technique users, mythical and tyrannical creatures, and innocent citizens alike in their pursuit of absolute power. The cult was feared primarily for their absolute, flawless mastery over two signature arts: Blood Control and the dreaded Demonic Creature Summoning Technique.
Recently, rumors had been circulating wildly through the underground networks that a monstrous genius had been born into their main lineage a prodigy who possessed the innate talent and spiritual capacity to carry these primary dark arts to unprecedented heights. That prodigy was none other than Harry Bloodhood. He held more raw potential to inherit the supreme leadership of the family than any other candidate in his generation, outclassing his rivals completely.
To put it simply, Michael warned him that he should not even think about making a single provocative, careless, or disrespectful move against anyone from the Bloodhood Cult, because they stood as one of the Four Main Cults of the world. The foundational powers of their society were firmly anchored by these four massive entities: the Deathclaw Cult, the Snakeman Cult, the Bloodhood Cult, and the Violend Cult. However, the Violend Cult was currently a mere shadow of its former glory, with only two surviving members left to its name Arthur and Merlin. They were the final remnants of a shattered, broken legacy, a direct consequence of what history recorded as the catastrophic Flawless Fire Incident. The true instigator behind that civilization-altering event had never been found, largely because absolutely no clues, tracks, or energy signatures were ever left behind at the scene.
Enzo : Are you saying the Bloodhood Cult is dangerous?
Michael nodded his head rapidly, a tense, involuntary gesture of absolute, non-negotiable confirmation.
Michael : Harry might be different, but still, don't drop your guard at all.
Enzo raised his right hand, finally understanding the gravity of the situation, and gave Michael a reassuring thumbs-up.
Enzo : But... You created a barrier around us, so won't he be suspicious?
Realization dawning on him like a sudden lightning bolt, Michael quickly turned his head around to look over his shoulder. Harry hadn't moved a single millimeter; he remained completely indifferent, staring intently out the glass window as if the magical barrier hadn't even registered to his advanced senses. Relieved that they hadn't caused an offense, Michael deactivated his technique, letting the translucent barrier dissolve silently into nothingness.
With the immediate tension temporarily diffused, Enzo and Michael walked over to a distant corner of the room, settling in to wait for the arrival of the remaining squad members. Hours began to slip by in relative silence as the sun continued its slow journey across the sky. When Enzo and Michael had first stepped onto the white concrete of the tenth floor, the clock had barely struck ten o'clock in the morning. By the time the resting atmosphere in the room finally began to shift, the afternoon had fully settled in, and the clock marked exactly three o'clock.
While Enzo and Michael were passing the time with idle chatter to stave off boredom, the air directly in front of them suddenly began to ripple and distort. Vibrant blue particles manifested out of nowhere, floating through the air like glowing embers rising from an invisible flame. Enzo and Michael immediately snapped into low defensive stances, pivoting their bodies toward the source of the spatial anomaly. Their muscles tightened, fully prepared for a sudden ambush as the density and brightness of the blue particles rapidly increased. Enzo was completely on edge, his gaze locked onto the glowing phenomenon, and Michael was mirroring his caution perfectly.
However, just as the energy concentration reached its absolute peak, Michael recognized the unique magical signature of the specific teleportation method. He quickly reached out with his left arm, lowering his hand to signal Enzo to stand down, and Enzo ceased his defensive stance, exhaling slowly. The swirling blue particles suddenly coalesced into a singular point. A massive pillar of light, resembling a brilliant blue laser, erupted violently upward from the concrete floor. It bore an incredibly imposing, destructive appearance, yet it emitted absolutely no shockwave or destructive force to the surroundings. Slowly, the column of light began to shrink, its blinding intensity waning second by second. As the radiance faded, the distinct silhouettes of two individuals became visible within the light. The exact moment the blue laser vanished entirely into the ground, a young woman and a young man stood revealed.
Michael : I see you two have started hanging out together, Luna and Mark.
A mocking smirk crawled onto Michael's face, his tone dripping with playful malice as he called out to them across the floor. The individuals who had emerged from the transport light were indeed Luna and Mark, the latter also known by his moniker, Spot. The moment Michael's teasing words reached her ears, Luna turned her cold gaze toward him, her facial expression remaining entirely unbothered by the insinuation.
Luna : And you've started going out too.
Luna replied, her voice completely flat, monotone, and devoid of any emotional vulnerability. Despite her incredibly calm delivery, Michael immediately understood the underlying, sharp jab she was aiming at him. His smirk vanished instantly, replaced by a sudden flash of intense irritation. Enzo, on the other hand, missed the romantic or personal implication of the insult entirely. Realizing he didn't understand the underlying joke, Enzo simply chose to shrug it off, cracking a wide smile as he prepared to enjoy the brewing spectacle of the two bickering.
Michael : I see you don't look offended at all, meaning you two were naturally born ready to go out.
Michael said, his voice rising with a slight, sharp edge of anger as he tried desperately to break through her icy, unbothered exterior. Luna remained utterly detached, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a visible reaction or an angry retort.
Luna : Think whatever you want, but you started getting angry right after what I said, so was I right? Don't worry, I'll keep it a secret.
Her voice carried an air of absolute, unshakeable confidence, her composure remaining completely intact as she continued to methodically dismantle his pride. Michael's internal frustration reached an absolute boiling point; the anger became so physically palpable that a thick, pulsing vein began to throb prominently against his forehead. He looked as though he was about to physically explode from rage right then and there on the white concrete.
Michael : I'm going to kill you.
Luna merely tilted her chin up slightly, an unwavering, fearless challenge flashing in her sharp eyes.
Luna : Try it, if you dare.
An invisible, suffocating tension flared between the two rivals, so thick and heavy it felt as though imaginary flames were beginning to spark and crackle around their physical bodies. Mark, desperate to prevent an actual, destructive fight from breaking out on the temple floor, tried to intervene. Since he was completely mute and could not verbally call out to them to stop, he used his hands, frantically waving his arms in a desperate, physical attempt to separate the two hotheads.
Enzo watched the entire display with absolute delight, thoroughly entertained by the chaotic interaction. The only thing missing from his current experience was a bucket of popcorn. Meanwhile, further down the hall, Harry remained entirely detached by the window, completely ignoring the childish squabble as if it were nothing more than meaningless background noise.
While the dispute continued to simmer and Mark continued his frantic gestures, the sudden, frantic echo of rapid footsteps began to ascend from the lower stairwell. The speed of the approach was astonishing, sounding less like a human running up stairs and more like a high-speed vehicle racing up a steep incline. Nobody in the room paid it much initial attention, given that they were either locked in a heated personal argument or entirely absorbed in their own thoughts. Finally, the running figure burst through the doorway and stumbled onto the tenth floor. It was Rose.
It was immediately obvious from her disheveled appearance that she had been running at absolute full speed for hours without a single moment of rest. Her face was completely drenched in sweat, her chest heaving violently as she struggled to pull oxygen into her burning lungs, and her trembling legs looked as though they were practically begging for a moment to collapse.
Rose : Ha...Ha... I made it! Whew!
Unfortunately for her, everyone else in the room was far too preoccupied with their own intense agendas or personal conflicts to notice her dramatic arrival. Her triumphant, exhausted announcement went entirely ignored, echoing uselessly against the distant pillars and concrete walls.
Suddenly, a massive, heavy wave of oppressive energy rippled through the entire floor out of nowhere. The shift in the atmospheric pressure was instantaneous, dropping the temperature of the room. Luna and Michael immediately sensed the overwhelming power, cutting their personal argument short as they spun their bodies around to locate the source of the energy. Despite their exceptionally sharp senses, neither of them could pinpoint exactly where the pressure was originating from. Then, a calm, deep voice materialized directly behind Mark's shoulder.
- - - : Everyone is here.
Luna and Michael froze, their faces twisting into expressions of pure shock. Driven by pure survival instinct, both of them immediately threw a powerful, swift punch backward toward the source of the mysterious voice. As their fists hurled through the air with lethal velocity, the man simply leaned his torso backward with fluid, casual grace. He dodged both incoming strikes effortlessly, his movements entirely unbothered by their speed or intent. Before Luna and Michael could even process their physical failure, a swift, precise strike came down upon both of their heads. The blows were neither brutally hard nor entirely gentle; they were perfectly measured, delivered like a stern, physical reprimand from a strict teacher to an unruly student.
Michael : Are you responsible for us, Mr. Rick?
Michael winced, tightly clutching the top of his head as he nursed the lingering, sharp sting of the blow.
Rick : I am Rick Deathclaw, previously your exam supervisor, and now your mission supervisor.
The man offered a wide, confident grin, his white teeth catching the light from the clean windows. Upon hearing his formal introduction, the gathered teenagers immediately bowed their heads deeply out of respect for his high status. Harry was the sole exception to the rule; he merely offered a subtle, polite inclination of his head from his spot by the window before instantly returning to his neutral, detached posture. Rick's grin widened even further. He brought his large hands together, delivering a single, sharp clap that echoed through the vacant hall to command their absolute attention.
Rick : Now, it's time to explain your mission.
Taking a deep, controlled breath, Rick's facial expression grew exceptionally serious, the playful demeanor vanishing instantly.
Rick : Your mission takes place in Cursed City. Your goal is to find the anomaly there and destroy it.
The group listened with rapt, undivided attention, processing the sheer gravity of the named location. Cursed City was a place of nightmare. Breaking the heavy silence, Harry spoke up from the window, his tone cold, calculating, and direct.
Harry : Well... What will we do if there is a creature that surpasses our level?
It was a vital, logical question. If a high-level entity or an ancient threat were to ambush them in a hostile environment like Cursed City, the entire young squad would either be severely crippled, permanently injured, or wiped out entirely.
Rick : Don't worry, the guardians and the absolute detectives decided to work together, and one of the strongest absolute detectives will be there. I don't know which one it is, but rest assured.
A collective wave of physical relief washed over the group, the heavy anxiety lifting from their shoulders. Having received a satisfactory, tactical answer to his query, Harry closed his mouth and retreated back into his stoic, silent observation. Rick suddenly paused mid-sentence, raising a hand to scratch the side of his head. A look of sudden, comical realization flashed across his features, his eyes widening as he remembered a crucial detail he had overlooked.
Rick : Right, I was going to announce your team leader to you!
The sudden announcement immediately sparked a sharp reaction among the youths. Enzo and Michael instantly locked eyes, their hands moving in a blur as they began a rapid-fire, silent game of rock-paper-scissors to see who would claim the leadership title. Luna and Mark remained attentive, though neither of them seemed particularly invested in who would be granted the administrative position. Rose watched with wide, curious eyes, eager to see who would step forward to lead them, while Harry simply narrowed his gaze, attempting to deduce the identity of the chosen leader based on their available high-level roster.
Rick : This person was specifically chosen by Arthur.
The simple mention of that legendary name sent a physical jolt of electricity through the entire squad. To be personally selected by a figure as mythic and powerful as Arthur was an immense, unparalleled honor that spoke volumes of one's strength. Every member of the team waited with bated breath.
Rick : You hear it, right? The person coming out of the elevator will be your leader.
Everyone turned their heads toward the right side of the hall, staring intently at the heavy gates of the elevator shaft as anticipation mounted to an unbearable degree. Internal monologues raced through their minds regarding who it could possibly be, how powerful they were, or how much they wanted to test their own strength against them in a spar. Leaning in close to Enzo, Michael kept his eyes glued to the elevator doors, whispering softly.
Michael : What kind of person do you think they are?
While Michael was filled with anxious, sweating curiosity, Enzo merely chuckled quietly, a knowing, confident smirk playing on his lips.
Enzo : A voice inside me says it's going to be someone we already know.
Michael frowned deeply, failing to grasp what Enzo meant by that statement, but Enzo's intuition was incredibly sharp. He could already guess exactly who was riding that lift up to the tenth floor.
The mechanical, resonant chime of the elevator echoed through the quiet floor, marking its steady, rapid descent from the upper levels. It was drawing closer with every passing second. 20... 19... 18... 17... 16... 15... The glowing numbers on the display ticked down like a literal countdown to an explosive revelation, the volume of the mechanical chimes growing louder as the cabin neared the tenth floor. The excitement in the room reached a fever pitch, the air heavy with suspense. Rick's grin remained firmly in place, thoroughly amused by the impending shock of his students, while Enzo's smile widened, fully trusting his gut instinct.
Finally, the elevator arrived at its destination with a sharp, resonant chime that echoed off the pillars. The heavy metallic doors slid open slowly, revealing the interior. A figure stepped out onto the white concrete floor, his feet clad in sleek, clean black athletic shoes. He wore a long, black sports jacket draped over a matching long-sleeved shirt, paired with comfortable, loose-fitting black trousers that allowed for maximum mobility. His hair was a striking, unusual blend of soft blue and deep purple strands, framing a pair of vibrant, glowing violet eyes. Looking into those eyes felt like staring into an endless, cosmic abyss, a hypnotic depth that could make anyone completely lose their train of thought if they stared too long.
Michael's jaw dropped in absolute, stunned disbelief. Luna reeled back, staggering slightly as if the sheer shock of the revelation might physically knock her off her feet. Mark simply broke into a wide, happy smile, bringing his hands together to applaud enthusiastically. Harry's stoic, cold expression cracked for a fraction of a second, a glint of genuine, undeniable surprise visible within his dark eyes. Rose stared blankly, her face clearly reading that this was the absolute last thing she had expected to see today.
Enzo, however, let out a triumphant, boisterous laugh. His smirk was born from pure, unadulterated joy; this was the very person he had sworn to grow stronger for, the one he had vowed to break out of prison through sheer force. But as he stared at his friend's current state, a sudden, humbling thought crossed his mind that the man didn't even need saving to begin with.
Rick : Before you is your team leader, Jack Horizon.
Jack raised his right hand, offering a casual, relaxed wave to the stunned crowd standing before him. Enzo couldn't contain his excitement a single moment longer, throwing his hands high in the air as he shouted across the wide room.
Enzo : Hey! Jack! How are you!
Catching sight of his old friend among the squad, Jack's lips curved into a warm, confident, and familiar smile.
Jack : I'm fine.
While Jack and Enzo were openly celebrating their reunion, Michael remained completely frozen in place, his mind struggling to process reality. His staggering disbelief wasn't derived merely from the fact that Jack had been appointed as their official leader; it was triggered by the sheer, terrifying magnitude of the spiritual energy radiating from his physical body.
Michael (In His Mind and Shocked) : What kind of training did Jack go through to get this much aura? If Enzo and I started spreading our aura, he would double or triple ours!
Standing right beside him, Luna was experiencing the exact same horrifying realization, her internal thoughts mirroring Michael's panic completely as she gripped her weapons.
Luna (In Her Mind) : His aura is literally covering the whole floor! Even Mr. Rick's aura isn't this much!
Over the course of the last four and a half months, Jack had subjected his body and mind to a grueling, unforgiving, and near-fatal training regimen. Previously, his internal energy was only sufficient to coat the immediate surface of his own physical body for defense. Now, he had unlocked a gargantuan, overwhelming aura that crushed the atmosphere. To put it into accurate perspective, the radius of the tenth floor spanned a massive five hundred meters. Jack's aura was currently expanding to fill almost every single inch of the vast room, measuring at an astonishing 489 meters in size. Furthermore, his official ranking had skyrocketed to an incredible, monstrous 0.5. He had grown so phenomenally powerful in such a short span of time that he was now standing on the very precipice of becoming one of the historic Ten Kings.
The composition of the squad was now fully finalized: Harry, Enzo, Michael, Luna, Mark, Rose, and Jack. This newly formed vanguard was officially scheduled to depart the temple immediately, heading toward the perilous, monster-infested depths of Cursed City. Waiting for them at their destination would be one of the absolute strongest figures among the Absolute Detectives, alongside the looming, terrifying presence of the Three Great Threats Hana, Lucifer, and Revenant.
The teenagers remained entirely unaware of the sheer, cataclysmic scale of the forces they were about to collide with. Jack had elevated his capabilities to an entirely new, godlike echelon. In their previous encounter, he had required the vital, desperate assistance of Bob just to stand a simple chance against one of Hana's low-level puppets, and even with that combined effort, they had suffered a crushing, humiliating defeat. Now, the dynamic had completely shifted. Jack had attained enough raw power to face Hana's puppet in a strict, brutal one-on-one duel and emerge victorious, capable of ending the conflict swiftly while sustaining only minor injuries. Whether this intense training would prove sufficient to survive the horrors awaiting them in the city, however, remained to be seen.