The revelation hit the group like a thunderbolt.
Gil managed to keep his composure better . He was mostly startled—and intensely intrigued—by the fact that a primary source for the mysterious "Way" had been standing right next to him all along.
He couldn't help but grumble inwardly, Why the hell didn't this guy mention this earlier?
Still, Gil quickly checked his own annoyance, realizing it was partly his fault for never asking.
Given the language barrier with Hugo, smooth communication was already a nightmare. He made a mental note to actively bridge that gap—not just with the giant, but with the entire crew.
The rest of the group, however, took the news in vastly different ways.
Orphée was thoroughly stunned; for a guy who usually projected absolute detachment, his relaxed composure completely evaporated.
Greg didn't grasp all the intricate details, but seeing the sharp reactions from Gil and Orphée, he realized this was a massive development. A tiny part of him couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement at the idea that their own squad possessed a private path to power.
Then there was Kuro. Her reaction was by far the most drastic.
She froze mid-strike, abandoning the punching bag entirely. She whipped her head around with such terrifying velocity that Gil could have sworn he heard the bones in her neck snap.
He caught his breath, wincing slightly as her intense, sharp gaze locked onto the giant.
Well, if nothing else, this gives me a rare glimpse into Kuro's underlying motivations, Gil thought. Ever since their official reunion in the arena, almost nothing had managed to crack her icy composure—yet here she was, utterly consumed by the prospect of gaining strength.
Deciding it wasn't the right time to pry into her past, Gil turned his attention to the giant as well. Sure, he already had a few unique abilities tucked away in his own arsenal, but who in their right mind would say no to more power? Given the nightmare they were trapped in, every single advantage counted.
Under the sudden, intense spotlight of his companions' burning stares, the massive warrior shifted uncomfortably, taking two small steps back.
Gil couldn't help but chuckle softly. Seeing a bloodthirsty giant—who had fought like a berserker against the healer—reduced to a timid cat just from the sheer weight of their eyes was pretty funny.
Gil stepped up, ready to ask Hugo for the details, when a quiet voice cut right through their mounting excitement.
"Uh... guys? Is this really the best place to be talking about this?"
Greg spoke up hesitantly, looking reluctant to throw cold water on everyone's mood. But considering their current environment—surrounded by other captives and potentially watched by their captors—his warning hit the group like a bucket of ice water.
How the hell did we almost forget where we are?
Gil straightened up instantly, his head snapping back as his eyes darted around the training hall.
Fortunately, no one seemed to be paying attention to them. The nearest group of captives was a safe distance away, but Gil refused to take any chances.
Whether it was loose-lipped captives eavesdropping or the guards using hidden surveillance devices and esoteric abilities to listen in, he couldn't rule out a single threat.
Hardening his stance, Gil looked directly at his crew—his eyes lingering on Kuro with a tone that brooked no argument.
"We wait until tonight to talk about this."
Though clearly reluctant, Kuro recognized the wisdom in his call. With a stiff nod, she turned back to the punching bag.
Her strikes, however, had lost their previous raw power and vicious speed; her mind was plainly somewhere else.
She wasn't the only one. Orphée lingered right beside Hugo, eyeing the giant with a mix of awe and mild betrayal, his expression practically screaming: Well, well... with that bushy hair and honest face, who would've guessed you were such a master at keeping secrets, big guy?
Gil turned to Greg with a genuine smirk. "Thanks, man. You saved our skins just now."
Who would've thought? he thought Inwardly
Greg's face initially lit up at the compliment, but his expression quickly scrunched into annoyance as he narrowed his eyes at Gil. "You just thought something incredibly unflattering about me, didn't you?"
Caught completely off guard, Gil blurted out, "How did you know?!"
Greg scoffed, throwing his hands up in fake offense. "Is that really how you view your first partner ?!"
Not wanting to get dragged into a debate, Greg rolled his eyes, walked over to a nearby agility machine, and began working on his flexibility and side-to-side footwork.
Chuckling at the lighthearted jab, Gil stepped back onto his treadmill. Yet, try as he might to focus on his conditioning, his mind was thoroughly compromised.
He couldn't deny the truth: the prospect of obtaining raw data on a "Way"—one completely independent of their captors' control—was far too tempting to ignore.
A faint spark of hope flickered in Gil's chest at the thought of Hugo's secret path.
He had realized long ago that the main bottleneck preventing him from fully exploiting his foresight in battle was his own raw physical limitation. Reading your opponent moves was useless if his body was too slow to react or dodge in time.
He had weighed his options for fixing it:
Traditional Training: Training systematically over a long period to build up endurance and speed—a method that was reliable, but would consume far too much time. Time, unfortunately, was a luxury he wasn't sure he possessed in this place.
The Power of a "Way": Relying on supernatural refinement. Gil didn't know much about how these Ways worked yet, but spending a few hours tapping into his innate abilities the previous night had already transformed him into a completely different fighter compared to who he was before.
If a quick dip into his own power could yield such immediate results, he couldn't help but hope that Hugo's method would bridge the physical gap just as quickly.
Though Gil tried to zone out and focus on basic movements to make his daily tasks less painful, distraction kept pulling at him.
Trapped deep underground inside this subterranean fortress, he had no way to track the passage of time.
The seconds bled into one another, creeping by at a torturously slow pace. He couldn't tell if the agonizing delay was a trick of his eager anticipation or simply a side effect of being buried beneath tons of stone.
Either way, time dragged on like a snail.
Finally, the metallic hiss of the lift signaled its return. The heavy doors slid open, and the healer stepped out onto the floor.
But...
He was completely alone. There was no sign of Arya or Helena.
The moment he appeared, every eye in the hall locked onto him. As the crowd realized the two girls hadn't returned with him, subtle shifts of apprehension and doubt rippled across their faces.
Yet despite the suffocating curiosity, not a single captive dared to break the silence or ask a question.
Seeing this, Gil felt a knot of dread twist in his gut, growing sharper by the second—especially when he noticed the healer deliberately avoiding their eyes, particularly his own...
Damn it!
Even without concrete proof, Gil couldn't help but fear the worst. Helena could have died for all he cared, but he would be lying if he said he was completely indifferent to the fate of young Arya, who had come to thank him just the night before.
He clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white and his nails nearly broke skin, grinding his teeth in silent fury.
Damn them all!
He could curse and rage in his mind, but it changed nothing. He simply lacked the power to alter anything in this place... right now.
Breathe. Just breathe.
He forced a slow inhale. The worst hadn't necessarily happened. If there was one thing he had confirmed today, it was that Arya and Helena possessed the exceedingly rare qualifications this organization was hunting for. Reasonably speaking, they wouldn't just throw away assets that valuable.
He offered himself that small comfort. For now, it was all he could do.
Lost in his thoughts, Gil failed to notice that Kuro had also registered the absence of the two young women.
Her expression grew intricate and unreadable as she watched Gil. She said nothing, only looking at him deeply before casting a final glance toward the healer. Stopping her exercises altogether, she settled nearby to rest.
Yet, her eyes were noticeably calmer now, stripped of their earlier impatience.
After a few moments, the healer clapped his hands to gather everyone's attention.
"Come!"
He escorted the group back to the hall where they had spent the previous night.
"Get a good rest. I will come pick you up tomorrow at the same time."
With those final words, he turned and departed without another phrase.
Gil stepped forward, leaving the others behind to confront him—only to be blocked by Orphée, who stepped directly into his path.
"Boss," Orphée said softly, his voice completely drained of its usual nonchalance, carrying a surprisingly cold and somber tone. "Where do you think you're going?"
The rest of the squad couldn't be completely oblivious to the sudden shift in Gil's mood—or his erratic state of mind. Sensing the quiet storm brewing within him, Orphée had decided to take it upon himself to act as a guard rail, keeping a sharp eye on their de facto leader to ensure he didn't do something reckless.
Gil seemed to have anticipated the move. He locked eyes with Orphée, his gaze icy and unnerving enough to make even the usually unbothered young man shudder.
"Orphée, get out of my way. Before you open your mouth: I'm not going to do anything to put myself, you, or the others in danger. Look me right in the eyes. I know what I'm doing. I just have two words to say to him."
Without waiting for a response, Gil brushed past him.
Orphée let out a wry smile, shaking his head with a soft sigh.
Well, look at that. Guess I underestimated him a bit, after all. Though what the hell is he planning right now?
He turned back to join the rest of the squad.
Gil caught up to the healer just as the heavy lift doors were beginning to slide shut.
At first, he said nothing. He simply stood there, staring straight into the healer's eyes through the narrowing gap.
Then, right before the doors sealed completely, Gil spoke—his voice sharp and measured:
"Are you planning on just standing by and doing nothing for much longer?"
He didn't demand to know what happened to Arya and Helena.
He didn't ask when they would return.
The crushing weight of guilt and absolute helplessness radiating off the healer was answer enough.
The healer offered no reply. He merely lowered his head as the metallic doors closed on his face, swallowing him into the shaft.