I stood there in silence, trying to calm down after the shock I'd just experienced. Base District One had been destroyed, the Chairman wasn't here, and now there were apparitions appearing. What was happening to Light Remain?
I didn't stand still—I decided to enter the building. On the first floor, I began opening each room door one by one. The first room—empty. The second room—just some old equipment. The third, fourth rooms... all empty, dust accumulated thick showing no one had used them in a long time.
I went up to the second floor, third floor, then fourth floor. Each floor was the same—silent, empty, and full of mystery. There were no traces of anyone. No documents, no personal belongings, nothing to prove that our organization had ever used this place.
Finally, I reached the fifth floor—the top floor, reserved for the lowest-ranking members. Here, the hallway was narrower, the ceiling lower, and the light even dimmer. The rooms were packed densely along both sides of the hallway, each just big enough for one or two people.
I opened each door systematically. Room 501—empty. Room 502—empty. Rooms 503, 504, 505... all the same. The monotony and hopelessness began creeping into my mind: "Did I come to the wrong place? Has the contingency plan changed without my knowing?"
But I didn't give up. I continued checking each room, each corner. And finally, when I opened the last door at the end of the hallway—room 520—I found what I was looking for.
Lucy!
She was lying on a small bed, curled up under a thin blanket. Her steady breathing showed she was sleeping soundly. Her smooth blonde hair was scattered across the pillow, her face in the dim light looking strangely peaceful—a complete contrast to the chaotic world outside.
I stood at the door, not knowing what to do. On one hand, I wanted to wake her immediately, ask about what had happened. But on the other hand, seeing her sleep so peacefully, I couldn't bear to disturb her. Perhaps this was the first good sleep she'd had after many tense days.
But another thought occurred to me: "Did she really not hear the explosion? Base District One blew up, the noise was enough to echo throughout this area. Maybe the fifth floor is too high to hear clearly, or perhaps she was so exhausted she slept too deeply."
I stepped into the room gently, trying not to make noise. But as soon as I crossed the threshold, Lucy's eyes suddenly flew open. The reflex of a well-trained warrior—she jumped up and lunged toward me at an alarming speed, before I could react.
"Freeze!" she shouted, her voice still hoarse from just waking but full of authority.
I raised both hands, signaling peace: "Lucy! It's me, HighG!"
She stopped right in front of me, eyes narrowing to see better in the dim light. After a few seconds of recognition, her expression changed from vigilant to surprised, then relieved, then worried.
"HighG?! You... you're alive?!" she exclaimed, her voice trembling.
"I'm alive, of course." I tried to appear calm, though inside I was still full of unease about what had happened.
Lucy looked me up and down, as if to make sure I was really standing here, not an apparition like the Chairman's shadow earlier. Then she began probing with a worried voice:
"Why did you take so long to get back? I've been waiting for you for three days!"
Three days? So when I was injured and taken to the CPS safe zone, that much time had passed. I thought I'd only been unconscious for a few hours, but it turned out to be three days.
Before I could answer, Lucy asked again with an even more worried voice:
"So where are Hachi and Not? Where are they?"
That question was like a slap to my face. Hachi and Not—the two who had gone on the mission with me. Where were they? Still alive or already... I didn't dare think further.
I swallowed, trying to keep my voice calm but failing. My voice trembled as I answered:
"Because of your bomb, all three of us disappeared! I was near the base so I managed to get out here! As for those two... they..."
I couldn't continue. The image of the explosion appeared clearly in my mind—the flames bursting up, the terrifying blast, and two figures being swallowed in it. I only survived thanks to a lucky shield, but they...
"I... Don't... Know!" I tried to say more, but my voice cracked.
Lucy stood frozen, like a statue. Her eyes widened, mouth opened but no sound came out. The shock was too great for her. Hachi and Not weren't just comrades, they were close friends, people who had gone through countless hardships with her.
She stood like that for a few seconds, then her body began to tremble. I saw tears glistening in her eyes, but she bit her lip to keep them from falling. A warrior doesn't cry—that was the principle she always told herself. But sometimes, principles aren't strong enough to fight pain.
I didn't know what to do. Words of comfort? But such words sound so hollow in these circumstances. Hug her? But our relationship had never been that close. So I only did the one thing I could think of—I went behind her and patted her back twice gently. I comforted her:
"Be strong. We need to keep living, for them."
Those pats seemed to wake Lucy. She took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. Once more. Twice more. She was trying to control her emotions, pushing the pain deep inside and focusing on the present.
Finally, she turned to look at me, eyes red but no more tears. Her voice was hoarse but steady:
"Alright. We need to rest. Tomorrow there's still much to do."
I nodded. That's right, we couldn't just wallow in grief. There were too many questions that needed answers, too many mysteries to uncover. Where was the Chairman? Why was the base destroyed? What organization was CPS? And most importantly—where would Light Remain go now?
I left Lucy's room, found an empty room nearby to rest. The bed was hard and the blanket thin, but after three days without proper sleep, anywhere was good. I lay down, closed my eyes, and tried to push away the horrific images in my head.
Sleep came with difficulty, filled with nightmares of fire, explosions, and lost friends.
The next day, light from the window woke me. Not the bright dawn light, but the gray, gloomy light of a cloudy day. I sat up, body aching from a night on the hard bed.
Lucy was already standing at the door, wearing full combat uniform, hair tied neatly, and her eyes had returned to their usual alertness. If you didn't look closely, no one could tell she'd gone through a major shock last night. Then she asked, her voice returning to its usual determination:
"Ready to go monster hunting?"
I nodded, stood up and prepared my equipment. Monster hunting—that was how we made a living, gathered resources, and maintained strength in this world. Each monster carried special energy that could be converted into weapons, equipment, or even supernatural abilities.
We left District Two, stepping out into the ruined world outside. Mornings in this city were always strange—no birds chirping, no vehicle sounds, only wind blowing through ruined buildings creating moaning sounds like souls lamenting.
Lucy walked ahead, footsteps light but alert. I walked behind, eyes constantly scanning for danger. In this world, danger could come from anywhere—from a small monster hiding in a dark corner, from a building about to collapse, or from human hunters like us.
What puzzled me most was Lucy's attitude. She kept singing along the way—cheerful, bright melodies, completely opposite to the gloomy atmosphere around us. Why was she like this? Was she trying to hide her pain? Or was it just her way of coping with stress? I asked:
"Aren't you afraid singing so much will attract monsters?"
Lucy turned around, grinning broadly as she answered me:
"Weak monsters are afraid of singing, strong monsters will find us anyway. So why not sing for fun?"
I didn't know how to respond. Her logic sounded wrong, but I couldn't completely refute it.
We walked through streets, past burned buildings, past crushed cars. Each place was a story of tragedy—a broken family, a life ended, a hope extinguished.
Suddenly, Lucy stopped. She raised her hand signaling me to be quiet. I immediately ducked into the shadows, eyes following where she pointed.
There, in the middle of the wide square, a monster stood towering. It was nearly three meters tall, muscles bulging, and most notably its two hands—each holding a gigantic dumbbell. Not ordinary dumbbells, but massive metal dumbbells the size of a small car each.
I looked more carefully. On each dumbbell were carved numbers: Left hand—"360 kg," right hand—"67 kg." This monster was really carrying over 400 kg total weight as if it were nothing.
"What type is that?" I whispered.
Lucy shook her head, then said to me:
"I've seen it before. But from the looks of it, it's a Strength type—monsters specialized in physical power and defense."
Seeing that, I asked her:
"So what's the plan?"
Then she answered me:
"Maybe we'll probe it first, then attack later."
We split up, approaching from two different directions. I gripped my sword tightly, preparing for battle. Lucy pulled out a compact bow, nocked an arrow on the string.
Before we could act, the monster suddenly moved. It raised both dumbbells high, then slammed them hard into the ground.
—BOOM! BOOM!—
Two consecutive explosions made the ground shake. Shockwaves spread out, small stones flying everywhere. I had to grab onto a concrete pillar to avoid being thrown. Lucy was luckier, having jumped onto a nearby building before the shockwave arrived. I thought to myself: "It's really strong!"
No time to hesitate, I charged toward the monster. It was standing still after that attack, as if "reloading" or resting. This was the opportunity!
I jumped up, sword slashing hard at its back. But the sound of metal clashing rang out—its back was hard as steel, even harder. My blade only created a small scratch, no significant damage. Suddenly Lucy shouted from afar:
"Careful! It has magic armor too!"
At the same time she fired an arrow. The arrow flew straight at the monster's eye, but it quickly turned its head, making the arrow only graze its nape.
I retreated, observing more carefully. This monster had thick, hard skin covering its entire body, especially on the back, chest and arms. Only a few potential weak points: knee joints, neck, and possibly the belly.
I started moving constantly, not staying in one place. Each time I got close, I slashed at a different position, trying to find a weak point. But each time was the same—sound of metal clashing, small scratch, no effect.
The monster seemed irritated by the continuous attacks. It began moving—but at an extremely slow speed, each footstep heavy as an earthquake. Just as I thought—its strength was traded for speed.
But after about ten minutes of continuous attacks, the monster began reacting differently. It stopped, muscles tensed, and I felt energy accumulating. I shouted:
"Lucy get away!"
But it was too late. The monster raised both dumbbells and slammed them repeatedly into the ground. One, two, three, four, five... ten times in succession! Each slam created a powerful shockwave, making the ground crack, surrounding buildings shake. A few old buildings couldn't withstand it, beginning to collapse.
I tried to run out of range, but the shockwave was too strong. I was thrown back, slammed into a wall, body aching. Lucy shouted full of concern:
"HighG!"
I struggled to stand up, wiping blood from the corner of my mouth. This monster's strength was no joke. If we kept fighting this way, we'd be eliminated.
After that fierce attack, the monster stood still again. I observed carefully and recognized a pattern: It attacked when provoked long enough, then stood still to recover energy. This was a strategic weakness!
But how to exploit that weakness when we couldn't penetrate its natural armor?
I looked at the monster more carefully, especially paying attention to the two dumbbells. The numbers "360 kg" and "67 kg" carved on them... Were they just weight? Or did they have some other meaning?
I decided to try something: attack the dumbbells themselves. I charged again, this time not aiming at the body but at the left dumbbell—the 360kg one.
Slash hard!
The sound of metal clashing still rang out, but this time different—a small crack appeared on the dumbbell's surface. I was right! The dumbbells weren't invulnerable weapons! I shouted:
"Lucy! Attack its dumbbells!"
Lucy understood immediately, firing arrows in succession at the right dumbbell—the 67kg one. The smaller one seemed easier to destroy, the arrows creating many cracks on its surface.
The monster seemed to realize our intention. It began moving faster—or more accurately "less slowly"—to protect the dumbbells. But that was the opportunity. When it focused on protecting, it couldn't attack effectively.
We coordinated well. I created pressure from the front, Lucy shot from afar. Each attack aimed at the dumbbells, not wasting energy on the hard armor.
After nearly two exhausting hours of fighting, Lucy began showing fatigue. She leaned against a wall, breathing heavily, soaked in sweat. I wasn't much better—my sword hand trembling, each slash heavier than before. Lucy panted, saying to me:
"Hey! Looks like swords won't be able to kill it, we need to use guns!"
That statement was like light shining into my dark mind. That's right! Why were we only relying on melee weapons when we had more powerful ranged weapons? It was because of habit—hunting ordinary monsters didn't need guns because they wasted ammo and made noise. But with this monster, guns were a much better choice. Then I said:
"Then you go get the gun! Remember to be quick!"
I'll try to hold the monster here.
Lucy said nothing, just nodded and ran toward District Two. She knew every second counted.
Left alone, I stood watching the monster from afar. It also stood still, as if resting after the long battle. In that silence, I began thinking more deeply about this monster.
"It only stands still until provoked. When attacked a lot, it counterattacks with a strong blow. Then stands still again... So what's its purpose? It doesn't actively attack, doesn't move much, only reacts when threatened. Like... a guard?"
That's right! This monster wasn't the hunting type, but the protective type. It was placed here to guard something. But what? There was nothing special around this square.
While I was thinking, a shadow appeared from the darkness on the other side of the square. A man, wearing a neat suit—an extremely strange outfit in this ruined world. On his face was a mask with gaudy patterns, indescribable—twisted lines, bright colors contrasting with the gray surroundings.
He walked confidently, not at all wary of the giant monster nearby. This showed either he was very strong, or very foolish. But looking at his attitude, I leaned toward the first possibility.
Suddenly, something strange happened. The monster—which had been standing still like a statue—began moving. But not toward me or toward that man. It moved in another direction, at a speed even slower than when fighting us. Like an infant crawling, each movement heavy and clumsy.
Then it began slamming repeatedly into the ground, creating small earthquakes. Not as strong as before, just enough to create light tremors. Like a warning? Or a signal?
The masked man stopped, observing the monster for a moment. Then he did something no one expected.
He charged toward the monster at an alarming speed, so fast I could barely see his movements. In his hand, he held a sword covered by blue energy—like ice, but glowing with an ethereal light. He swung the sword, then several round spheres shot out and attached to the monster. Then he muttered some kind of incantation:
"Ice Cream!"
The ice energy began spreading, covering the entire monster in an instant. From feet to head, from dumbbells to body, everything was covered in a thick layer of transparent blue ice. The monster tried to move, but the ice layer was too thick, too hard, it couldn't break free.
In a few seconds, a monster that we had fought for nearly two hours without defeating was now completely neutralized by a single attack.
I stood there, mouth agape, not believing what I'd just witnessed. What kind of magic was this? What kind of ability so powerful? And most importantly—who was this man?
He turned to look at me, eyes behind the mask looking straight at me. I sensed a terrifying power from that gaze—not physical strength, but the strength of will, of experience, of someone who had been through countless battles. I asked him:
"Hello sir! May I ask your name?"
The man didn't answer immediately. He walked toward the frozen monster, placed his hand on the ice, and the cold blue energy appeared once more. This time, the entire monster shattered like glass, then broke into thousands of small pieces flying everywhere.
In the monster's core, a bright red orb appeared—its energy source. The man picked it up, examined it for a moment, then threw it toward me.
I caught the orb, surprised by this unexpected action. This was a valuable trophy he could have kept. He said to me:
"Consider this stone compensation for me interfering in your battle."
Then I said to him:
"But... I..."
He cut me off and said:
"You don't need to thank me. I only do what I need to."
Before I could ask more, the sound of running footsteps echoed. Lucy had returned, holding a large caliber rifle. But seeing the scene—the monster already turned to fragments, the strange man standing in the middle of the square, and me holding the energy orb—she stopped, mouth agape. She asked, eyes constantly looking back and forth between me and the man:
"What happened?!"
I answered, but didn't know where to start:
"That's a long story..."
The masked man looked at Lucy, then at me. A moment of silence stretched on. He spoke:
"You two are members of Light Remain, aren't you?"
That question struck us like lightning. How did he know? We weren't wearing uniforms, had no insignia. Yet he knew exactly.
Lucy and I looked at each other, not knowing how to answer. Revealing our identity could be dangerous, but staying silent could also make this person suspicious. Finally, I decided to be honest:
"Yes, we're members of Light Remain. So why do you know?"
The man was silent for a moment, seemingly weighing whether to speak or not. Finally, he raised his hand, slowly removing the mask.
The face that appeared before us—an angular face, with sharp eyes but looking like he'd been sleep-deprived for many days, and the stern look of someone who'd been through too much. But most distinctive were the eyes—they were ice-blue, like the magic he'd just used. Then he said:
"My name is Marno... As for how I know everything about your organization... I can't answer that..."
Then he put the mask back on and left. Lucy and I watched his back, his figure gradually disappearing but I still stood there motionless...