Hendricks Cole was not a man who scared easily. The robot-eyed black market dealer had lived through twelve years in the Undercity by knowing when to talk, when to stay quiet, and when to run. His glowing blue eye implant had seen things that would make an official Guild investigator throw up.
But when Alvian came out of the Warrens at dawn, Hendricks grabbed his arm tightly. His usual confidence was gone, replaced by the nervous energy of someone who had been waiting all night.
"Where have you been?" Hendricks whispered, pulling him into the shadow of a fallen stone pillar. "I’ve been waiting since midnight. News came down from Level 13. The Magnus family is making moves."
Alvian grew alert. "What kind of moves?"
"Not through the Academy. Through illegal channels." Hendricks looked over his shoulder. "They’re hiring paid killers. The dangerous kind."
"Who?"
"The Bloodhounds."
The name meant nothing to Alvian, but Hendricks’ fear said it all. The dealer’s cybernetic eye spun fast, its blue light flashing with stress patterns Alvian had never seen before. His hands were shaking.
"The Bloodhound Mercenaries," Hendricks repeated. "Freelance killers who ignore Guild laws. Their fighters are Level 30 to 35 veterans. Many have illegal mechanical body upgrades—subcutaneous armor under their skin, sensory jammers, and energy-boosted muscles. Real nasty stuff."
"How many?"
"Word says twenty fighters. Their leader is Griff Maddox." Hendricks swallowed hard. "He has a B-Rank Kinetic Reaver Talent. He turns physical hits into explosive shockwaves. He has killed over forty Awakened people across the land. Two of them were Academy teachers who tried to organize the Undercity scavengers."
Twenty Level 30-35 mercenaries against his Level 22 self. On paper, it looked like suicide. But paper did not count Severing Sword Aura, the Clearwater Coating synergy, or the S-Rank potential of his evolving Clearwater Palm.
More importantly, paper did not count Gambler’s Delay.
Alvian quickly planned his tactical options. Twenty kills at Level 30-35 meant a huge pool of EXP. If he used Gambler’s Delay on the whole fight, the big multiplier could push him past Level 30 and spark another Skill evolution.
But first, he had to make sure Martha and Leo were safe.
He moved fast. The apartment was a fifteen-minute run through Level 13’s service tunnels. He pushed open the door to find Martha asleep, her breathing light but steady. Leo was awake in his corner with a piece of charcoal, drawing another warrior on the wall.
"Leo. Grab your things. We’re moving."
Leo asked no questions. He grabbed his drawings and blanket and was ready in thirty seconds. Undercity kids learned early that when family said move, you moved immediately.
Alvian carried Martha. She was lighter than she should be, as the crystal disease ate away at her body even with medicine slowing it down. Her head rested on his shoulder, her breath warm against his neck.
Tobias Finch’s scrap hut was a twenty-minute walk through secret side paths. Only a few trusted people knew where the old scavenger lived. The piles of scrap metal in his home hid them from sensory scans, and the heavy smell of rusty iron and oil kept unwanted guests away.
Tobias opened the door after three knocks, his robotic arm sparking with his usual nervous twitch. His face changed from annoyance to deep concern when he saw Martha unconscious in Alvian’s arms.
"The Bloodhounds are coming," Alvian said directly.
Tobias’s robotic arm sparked wildly—much worse than usual. The old man turned pale, and Alvian saw real fear in his eyes for the first time. The kind of fear that comes from bad memories.
"Get inside," Tobias said quickly.
He cleared space on his workbench for Martha, laying her on a folded plastic tarp. Leo curled up next to her, holding his piece of charcoal. Within minutes, the boy fell asleep, breathing calmly despite the danger.
Tobias sat down across from Alvian. His metal arm rested on his knee, creaking with small movements.
"How long until they get here?" Tobias asked.
"I don’t know. Hours, or maybe days."
"The Bloodhounds don’t fight fair, kid," Tobias said in a low, rough voice. "They’ll use signal jammers, poisons, and maybe monster-attracting bombs to force you out into the open. They don’t care about innocent people. They only care about killing their target."
Alvian pulled out the bag of Crawler cores he collected overnight. Twenty cores worth around five hundred credits. He put them on the workbench.
"Keep them safe for three days," Alvian said. "After that, this will be over."
Tobias looked at the cores, then at Alvian. His metal arm sparked again. "You’re not running."
It was a statement, not a question.
Alvian shook his head. "If I run, they’ll hunt me when I’m unprepared. I’d rather fight on my own terms."
"On your terms? Against twenty Level 30-35 killers?" Tobias raised his voice in frustration. "Kid, I was a licensed dungeon delver for fifteen years. I know what the Bloodhounds do. They don’t just kill you. They make an example of you. They leave your body pieces scattered across the tunnels."
"Good." Alvian looked into the old man’s eyes. "I want them to find me."
Tobias stared at him in silence. His metal arm sparked one last time, then went still. He leaned back and rubbed his face with his human hand.
"Gaius Magnus is not a man you back into a corner," Tobias said quietly. "He’s a man you have to destroy completely. If you leave him alive, he’ll keep sending killers until one of them succeeds." He looked at Alvian with tired eyes. "You have power now, kid. But power without a clear plan is just useless noise. What’s your next move?"
Alvian did not answer right away. Instead, he opened his System menu. His EXP Bank held about 50,000 points. He spent 5,000 EXP on VIT.
[Allocating 5,000 EXP from Bank...]
[VIT: 39 → 42]
[Flesh Limit threshold increased.]
[Safe EXP absorption per single allocation: ~3,500]
Warm energy spread through his body. His bones grew denser, his muscles stronger, and his natural healing faster. His Flesh Limit expanded, giving him a safer buffer for future high multipliers.
"Your arm," Alvian said, looking at Tobias’s metal limb. "It sparks when you’re stressed. You’ve fought them before, haven’t you?"
Tobias stayed silent for a long moment. The hum of the level’s air filters filled the small room. Leo’s light breathing and Martha’s quiet rasps were the only other sounds.
"Fifteen years ago," Tobias finally said. "Before I lost my arm. The Bloodhounds were hired to eliminate a delver team that found proof of a Guild leader selling dungeon locations to bandits. I was the only survivor." He raised his metal arm. "This is what they left me with. I didn’t lose my arm to a Sludge Crawler like I told you. I lost it to Griff Maddox."
The truth hung heavily between them.
"The Bloodhounds never forgive mistakes, kid. Down here, a broken weapon doesn’t just mean a hurt rib. It means you don’t come back alive."
Alvian nodded. He stood up and checked the sword at his hip. The blue lines in the metal glowed softly with Clearwater energy.
"I need to talk to Serah," Alvian said. "Before they show up."
Tobias watched him closely. His metal arm stayed still and quiet on his knee.
"Three days," Tobias said at last. "I’ll keep them safe for three days. After that..."
"After that, it will all be over," Alvian finished.
He left the hut and walked out into the dim halls of Level 13. The Undercity was quiet, and the usual crowd of scavengers was gone. News had spread. The Bloodhounds were near, and people were running to safer floors.
Alvian walked in the opposite direction—toward the Warrens. Toward the deep tunnels where energy was thick enough to support a long fight.
Twenty Level 30-35 mercenaries, led by the man who took Tobias’s arm, were coming to claim a bounty on an E-Rank student who was supposed to be weak.
The System menu floated quietly in his field of view. The roulette wheel was ready and waiting. His Re-Roll Token sat in his inventory, and his Gambler’s Delay was prepped.
He just needed them to find him.
┌──────[ Profile]──────┐
│ [Host]: Alvian Vance
│ [Level]: 22 (Mortal Tier)
│ [Talent]: Clearwater [E-Rank, D-Rank effective]
│ [Skills]: Clearwater Palm [D-Rank, ~85% to cap]
│ Clearwater Coating [E-Rank]
│ Severing Sword Aura [A-Rank]
│ [Weapon Mastery]: Short-Sword [MAXIMUM, evolved]
│ [STR]: 28 | [AGI]: 27 | [VIT]: 42
│ [INT]: 16 | [Essence]: 22
│ [Karma Points]: 8
│ [EXP Bank]: ~45,000 / ∞
│ [System Version]: 2.0 (Proficiency Tier)
└─────────────────┘
The deep Warrens swallowed him whole. The dark ahead was complete, but his eyes had long adapted to the Undercity’s gloom. Somewhere in those tunnels, twenty killers were getting ready to hunt.
They had no idea they were walking into a trap.