People think Gates appear randomly, like accidents that simply happen without reason.
They're wrong.
Some of them wait.
They choose the right moment, the right place, and sometimes… the right number of people to die.
The black market auction was packed far beyond what it should have been. Hunters filled the hall shoulder to shoulder, their voices low but tense, eyes constantly shifting between the stage and each other.
Cores, artifacts, weapons—everything on display had been taken from something that had once tried to kill them.
And everything here had a price.
Arin Vale stood near the back of the room, leaning casually against a cracked pillar. His posture was relaxed, almost bored, but his eyes moved constantly, taking everything in.
He wasn't interested in the items.
He was watching the people.
Desperation had a very specific look.
Hunters pretending to be confident. Buyers pretending they understood what they were purchasing. Everyone acting like they were in control of the situation.
They weren't.
Arin exhaled slowly, his gaze drifting across the room.
"…This place is louder than it needs to be."
On stage, the auctioneer lifted a reinforced case with both hands, drawing the attention of the entire room.
"Next item. Recovered from a lower-tier Gate. Stable extraction. No visible corruption."
The case opened with a soft click.
Inside was a clean, bright core—perfectly intact and completely safe.
A small wave of relief passed through the crowd. This was the kind of item people preferred. Predictable. Reliable. Something they could understand.
Arin looked away almost immediately.
"…Boring."
A voice beside him let out a quiet chuckle.
"You always did have strange taste."
Arin didn't bother turning his head.
"Marcus."
Marcus leaned casually against the same pillar, brushing dust from his coat as if he had just arrived—which he probably had.
"You showed up," Marcus said, smirking. "That's new."
"I needed something."
Marcus raised an eyebrow.
"That usually means expensive."
Arin's gaze flicked briefly back toward the stage.
"Everything here is."
The bidding started quickly, numbers climbing higher with every second. People were eager, too eager for something that wasn't even worth that level of attention.
Arin ignored it.
Because something else felt wrong.
Echo Sense pulsed.
Faint, but unmistakable.
And it wasn't coming from the stage.
Arin's eyes shifted slightly toward the floor beneath the platform.
"…That's not part of the show."
Marcus noticed the change in his expression immediately.
"You feel something."
Arin didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
The floor cracked.
At first it was just a thin line running across the polished surface, almost subtle enough to miss.
Then it spread.
Fast. Violent. Unnatural.
The entire stage collapsed inward.
The display cases shattered instantly, glass and metal scattering across the hall. The auctioneer didn't even have time to react before something tore its way up from beneath the floor.
The Gate didn't open.
It forced itself into existence.
Dark energy flooded the room, twisting the air and distorting the space around it. Hunters stumbled back, some reacting on instinct, others frozen in place.
The first creature hit the ground hard.
Four legs, too many joints, and armor that didn't look like it belonged to anything natural.
For a fraction of a second, the entire room went silent.
Then everything fell apart.
"MOVE!"
"GET BACK—!"
"WHAT IS THAT—?!"
Too late.
The creature lunged forward, its movement fast enough to blur.
A hunter in the front row tried to block.
It didn't slow the creature down at all.
Blood hit the floor.
Arin didn't move.
Not yet.
His eyes were fixed on the Gate, watching the way it twisted, the way it continued forming even after the first creatures had already come through.
"…Of course," he muttered quietly.
"…It's one of those."
More creatures dropped into the room, one after another.
This wasn't a standard Gate.
It was unstable.
Overflowing.
Hunters finally started fighting back. Mercer slammed a barrier into place, the translucent shield forming just in time to intercept the next charge. Frost raised her rifle and fired controlled bursts, energy rounds cracking against armored hides.
It slowed them.
It didn't stop them.
One creature broke through the line and sprinted toward the back of the room.
Toward Arin.
Finally—
he moved.
The creature lunged at him, claws extended, jaws opening wide enough to tear through bone.
Arin stepped forward instead of back.
The dagger appeared in his hand in a single smooth motion, the blade catching the light for just a moment before it disappeared into movement.
A clean upward strike.
Precise.
Effortless.
Abby's Seal activated.
Gravity collapsed.
The creature slammed into the ground mid-attack, the impact cracking the marble beneath it as if something far heavier had fallen.
Dead.
Arin didn't even spare it a second glance.
"…That was quicker than expected."
Another creature rushed him immediately, followed by a second from a different angle.
This time he let out a quiet breath.
"…Fine."
The first came from the left. He sidestepped and drove the dagger into the gap between its armor plates, the blade sliding in cleanly before gravity crushed inward.
The second attacked from behind, claws tearing through the space he had just vacated.
Arin shifted his weight slightly—
Gravity twisted sideways.
The creature slammed into a broken pillar hard enough to shatter it.
Both died within seconds.
No wasted movement.
No hesitation.
Just efficiency.
Nearby hunters slowed, their attention drawn away from their own fights for a brief moment.
"…He wasn't there a second ago," someone muttered.
Arin ignored them.
Because the Gate—
still wasn't done.
Echo Sense flared again.
Stronger this time.
Deeper.
"…Not finished," Arin said quietly.
The ground beneath the Gate cracked open once more, the fracture widening as something larger forced its way through.
The moment it appeared—
everyone felt it.
Pressure.
Weight.
Something fundamentally wrong.
"…That's not D-rank," Quinn whispered.
No one argued.
The creature moved immediately, faster than something that size should have been capable of moving. Its first strike shattered the ground where two hunters had been standing just moments before.
"Spread out!" Mercer shouted.
The formation broke instantly.
Chaos followed.
Arin watched for a brief second, as if measuring something only he could see.
Then he sighed.
"…Great."
The creature charged again.
This time—
he stepped forward.
Abby's Seal expanded outward, the air itself compressing as gravity twisted violently beneath the creature's body.
Its movement faltered.
Just enough.
Arin closed the distance in an instant.
The dagger drove upward, deep and precise, piercing directly into the core.
Gravity collapsed inward.
Once.
Then again.
The sound was heavy.
Final.
The creature slammed into the ground and didn't move again.
Silence followed.
Real silence this time.
Arin crouched, pulling the core free and turning it once in his hand, studying the way it pulsed.
"…Better."
Still not enough.
But acceptable.
Behind him—
"Wait!"
A hunter stepped forward, voice tight.
"What are you?"
Arin stood slowly.
He didn't turn.
"…Someone who doesn't wait for things to get worse."
And started walking.
"Hey—!"
"You can't just—"
He didn't stop.
Because the Gate still wasn't closed.
And he had already felt it.
Something else was still inside.
Something stronger.
Arin adjusted the core in his hand as he walked, a faint smirk forming at the corner of his mouth.
"…Now that's interesting."
Behind him, the hunters stood frozen, trying to process what they had just witnessed.
"…That guy…"
"…What the hell was that…"
"…Did you see that?"
No one had a real answer.
Then one of them said it.
Quietly.
Almost uncertain.
"…Gate Ghost."
No one laughed.
Because none of them thought it was a joke.