The heavy, frantic footsteps of Elena faded into the upper tunnels, leaving only the sound of cooling mana crackling like dying embers.
Scorched grey dust settled over the ruined corridor. Hu-seung lay slumped against the rusted wall, his fingers twitching in a rhythmic, pathetic spasm—the involuntary reflex of a body whose mana-circuits had been surgically erased. The air still carried the iron-heavy scent of his terror.
Jinsu didn't look back. He stared at the violet UI, his temple throbbing with a dull, rhythmic ache.
[Unallocated Stat Points: 30]
His finger hovered over the 'Density' tab, then hesitated.
If I dump everything into Density, I can take a hit, he calculated, his eyes narrowing as he swallowed dryly. But the Arbiter... I couldn't even see its hands move. If I can't track the strike, it doesn't matter how thick my skin is. I'll just be a target that takes longer to break.
He looked at Processing. It wasn't just speed; it was the ability for his mind to keep up with the Nihil Engine's output.
I need to see the world in slow motion. I need the gap between the strike and the deletion to disappear.
[Processing: 10 -> 25]
[Erasure: 5 -> 20]
He ignored 'Density' entirely. He was betting his life on a "glass cannon" build. If he missed a single dodge, he was dead.
"Confirm," he rasped.
The reaction was instantaneous. A violent, icy heat lanced through his marrow, making his spine arch. His vision didn't just swerve; it shattered. For a terrifying second, his consciousness drifted, detached from his limbs.
[Warning: Host Stability dropping to 82%.]
[Neural circuits are being forcefully overwritten by the Void.]
He tasted copper—he had bitten through his lip without feeling it. But as the grey spots cleared, the world looked different. The falling dust particles didn't just float; they drifted like heavy feathers. His body felt lighter, tighter, like a wire tuned to a frequency that could shatter glass.
Vrrrr. The iron grating beneath him shivered. It wasn't a mechanical vibration; it was a rhythmic, anatomical thrum.
To his over-clocked eyes, the floor was no longer just metal—it was a shimmering lattice of logic, and right beneath his feet, the code was fraying. It was a "Glitch Room," a hidden layer of the dungeon masked by a structural error.
He knelt, pressing his palm against the rust. He didn't feel the cold iron; he felt the "frequency" of the barrier.
'If it's an error,' Jinsu thought, his eyes glowing with a sharp, violet light,
'then I can solve the equation.'
"Process," Jinsu whispered into the dark.
[Logic Error Identified.]
[Initiating Structural Deletion...]
The floor didn't break. It vanished with a high-pitched plucking sound, leaving a jagged, violet glyph of absence in the air before the space collapsed.
Jinsu fell into the absolute darkness, his torn coat fluttering like broken wings.
CRACK.
He landed in a hall of white marble and gold that stretched into an impossible, distorted distance. The air was sterile, suffocating, and smelled of ancient, stagnant holy water. Strangely, the light here didn't come from torches; it seemed to leak out of the floor, bending toward the far end of the hall like a magnetic field.
At the epicenter of that light sat a massive throne.
Thrum.
The throne shifted—not a creak, but a deep, tectonic groan that sent cracks spider-webbing through the marble pillars. The thing on the throne rose.
Silver armor slid across marble like falling moonlight. Where its joints met, runes flared and the air bent. The ceiling felt smaller, the hall suddenly too fragile to contain it. When it stood, the hair along Jinsu's arms rose as if struck by cold metal wind.
As the entity took a step, the ambient noise in the room began to thin, as if the hall itself were being vacuum-sealed.
[Hidden Boss: The Failed Guardian (Level ??)]
Jinsu's pulse hammered against his ribs—a frantic, addictive rhythm. This was the exact kind of hunger that made hunters trade blood for power.
Anticipation.
Calculation.
He tasted the numbers like an addict.
"Your existence is an error," the Guardian intoned, each syllable striking like hammered iron.
"Errors are corrected. Records are sealed."
The spear's tip glowed with patient calamity.
The raw pressure tried to crush Jinsu's lungs, but the Nihil Engine began to roar.
"I don't belong in the records," Jinsu said, stepping forward.
"I'm the one who deletes them."
The Guardian blurred.
To any other Hunter, the move would have been invisible. But through Jinsu's newly over-clocked eyes, the silver spear-tip carved a slow, agonizing arc through the air, trailing a wake of distorted light aimed directly at his throat.
[Skill: Void Grip — EVOLUTION CRITICAL]
[Host Stability: 62% — DANGER: COGNITIVE OVERLOAD]
[Confirm: Manual Override? Y/N]
Jinsu didn't look at the system screens. He watched the glowing tip of the spear.
"Override," he whispered.
The world turned violet. The spear began to fall.