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The rain drummed against Russell's phone screen as he opened the mission attachment, water droplets distorting the display before the device's protective enchantments kicked in. What loaded wasn't the crude sketch he'd expected from a military operation, but something that made him whistle softly in appreciation.
The map floated above his phone in full holographic glory, every contour and elevation rendered in exquisite detail. Mountains rose from the display in miniature, complete with wisps of fog clinging to their peaks. Forests showed individual tree types, streams carved realistic paths through valleys, and structures—those crumbling remnants of another world—stood out in weathered detail.
I wonder what kind of card was used to make this, Russell thought, rotating the projection with careful finger movements. The level of accuracy suggested either aerial reconnaissance by a specialized flying card or, more likely, a cardmaker with unique surveying abilities. He could make out individual boulders, fallen trees, even what appeared to be game trails threading through the undergrowth.
His assigned section pulsed with a soft red glow, drawing his attention to the northwestern quadrant. The area covered roughly five square kilometers of mixed terrain—primarily dense forest interspersed with rocky outcroppings and a few clearings. Not the worst draw, but far from ideal.
"Forests, huh?" Russell murmured, zooming in for a closer look. The trees appeared to be a mix of deciduous and evergreen, creating a canopy so thick that the map couldn't penetrate to show the forest floor in some areas. Perfect for ambushes, difficult for aerial reconnaissance, and absolutely crawling with places for monsters to hide.
"Luckily I went to ask my animal friends for some gene modules," he said with a grin that would have looked disturbingly predatory to any observer. The [Keen Sense of Smell] module from the bear would be invaluable in the dense undergrowth, where sight lines were measured in meters rather than kilometers.
He tapped the red zone, causing an information panel to materialize. The data that scrolled past made his eyebrows rise with interest:
Zone 7-B (Forest/Mountain)
Primary Terrain: 70% Dense Forest, 20% Rocky Slopes, 10% Clearings
Elevation Range: 800-1,400 meters
Known Threats: Silver-level monsters (variety pack)
Environmental Hazards: Steep drops, unstable footing, limited visibility
Special Notes: High biodiversity. Creatures exhibit characteristics similar to Blue Star mythology. Expect familiar forms with unfamiliar capabilities.
"The monsters here are like the monsters from the legends of Blue Star?" Russell read aloud, intrigued. "And there are all kinds of animals... Okay."
This was actually better than he'd hoped. Unlike the monotonous "welfare" realms where you might find only one or two species endlessly repeated, this promised variety. Different monsters meant different materials, different challenges, and most importantly for his current needs—different gene modules for Arrogance to sample.
The map showed several points of interest within his zone: a waterfall that could mask sound, providing cover for approach or ambush; a series of caves that the survey hadn't fully penetrated, marked with warning symbols; and what appeared to be the ruins of a small shrine or watchtower at the highest elevation.
He was memorizing the terrain—always know your battlefield—when his phone buzzed with an incoming message. The notification showed it was from "A Loving Family," the group chat for his master's disciples that had been silent since his introduction.
Russell almost ignored it, but curiosity won out. He opened the chat to find it suddenly exploding with activity:
[Felix]: I finally came out of the secret realm! Long time no see, everyone.
[Felix]: Have my senior brother and second senior sister come out yet?
[Felix]: Junior sister, why don't you speak? You really need to change your temper. Learn more from me.
[Felix]: Teacher, have you accepted a new disciple?
[Felix]: Welcome, Junior Brother! (Throwing_flowers.jpg)
The messages came so fast the screen could barely keep up, each one appearing before anyone could possibly have responded to the previous one. Russell's eye twitched as he watched the cascade of text—this senior brother was the complete opposite of Hazel's painful shyness. Where she could barely manage a word in person, Felix seemed incapable of stopping.
A complete social terrorist, Russell diagnosed, watching more messages pile up. Based on the casual way Felix addressed everyone and the order of his questions, this had to be the third disciple. The energetic middle child of their strange little family.
[Russell]: Hello, Third Senior Brother. Please take care of me in the future.
His response was immediately buried under another wave:
[Felix]: Hey, you're too polite! We are all family from now on. If you have any trouble, just tell me directly.
[Felix]: Let me tell you, my exploration of the secret realm this time was really something else.
[Felix]: I feel that the recent secret realms are much more dangerous than before. The diversity and complexity of the monsters' abilities have greatly increased.
[Felix]: I heard that several of the Emerald-level cardmakers who went in with me were killed.
[Felix]: Fortunately, that secret realm has been completely cleared now.
Russell's eyes sharpened as he processed the information hidden in Felix's rambling. Emerald-level cardmakers dying meant this was a high-tier realm, probably Emerald or even Diamond level. And "completely cleared" rather than "controlled" suggested total extermination—something only done for realms too dangerous to leave active.
He must be stationed on the coast or in the north, Russell deduced. Those were the hot zones where new high-level realms appeared most frequently, requiring immediate and decisive response. His cheerful senior brother was on the true front lines, where one mistake meant death.
[Felix]: Why is no one speaking?
[Felix]: Is anyone else watching?
[Hazel]: I'm here.
The simple two-word response from Hazel probably represented enormous effort on her part. Russell could imagine her agonizing over even that much interaction.
[Russell]: I'm about to enter the secret realm for training, so I won't talk for now, Third Senior Brother.
[Felix]: Okay, okay, little junior brother, be careful! But after all, my junior sister is not the youngest anymore.
Russell closed the app before the conversation could continue, suddenly aware that he was the only student still standing at the entrance. While he'd been absorbed in maps and messages, everyone else had already entered the realm. The rain had cleared the staging area of all but essential personnel.
The man in charge—the same one who'd briefed them—approached with measured steps. His expression was carefully neutral, but Russell caught the assessment in his eyes. Testing for weakness, for second thoughts.
"Are you scared?" The question came with surprising gentleness. "If you are, it's not too late to quit now. I won't hold you responsible, but you won't be able to participate in any more practical training classes."
It was a genuine offer, Russell realized. Not mockery but actual concern. How many students had frozen at this threshold, suddenly understanding the difference between classroom theory and stepping into hostile territory?
Russell offered an apologetic smile, holding up his phone. "I was just replying to a message. Sorry for the delay."
The man's expression shifted—surprise, perhaps a touch of amusement. "Texting before entering a potentially lethal situation. Very Generation Z of you." He stepped aside, gesturing toward the portal. "Try to keep your priorities straighter inside."
With a final nod, Russell stepped through the dimensional boundary.
The transition hit like diving into cold water. One moment he stood in the secured staging area with its clean concrete and humming defensive arrays. The next, he was in another world entirely, where the very air tasted different.
The rain here wasn't the same rain that fell on Earth. It was heavier somehow, each drop carrying a weight beyond mere water. It hammered down from clouds so dark they seemed to swallow light, turning day into perpetual twilight. The sound was overwhelming—not just the impact of water on leaves and stone, but an underlying resonance that suggested this rain had been falling for a very long time.
Russell stood still for a moment, letting his senses adjust. The forest pressed in on all sides, ancient trees whose species he couldn't immediately identify. Their bark was darker than it should be, shot through with veins of something that might have been metal or crystallized sap. The leaves, barely visible in the dimness, seemed to move independently of the wind.
I thought there was something special about this rain, he mused, extending his senses carefully. In a realm born from another world's death throes, even weather could be weaponized. But after careful examination, he found it was just rain—albeit rain that had perhaps absorbed some essential wrongness from its environment.
Around him, other students were making their own adjustments to the hostile environment. Through the trees, he could see groups huddling together, checking equipment, psyching themselves up for what lay ahead. Solo operators stood apart, already planning their routes.
Not far away, Grant stood with his three teammates under what minimal shelter a large tree provided. Water still found them, running in rivulets down their rain gear, but it was better than standing in the open.
"What do you mean, we wait here until the rain stops?" Malik, his second-in-command, asked with barely concealed frustration. Water had somehow found its way inside his collar, creating a miserable trickle down his spine.
Grant studied the downpour, professional assessment overriding personal comfort. Visibility was down to maybe thirty meters, less in the deeper forest. The rain would mask sound, making it nearly impossible to hear approaching threats. Every surface would be slick, turning simple movement into a hazard.
"We don't know how long we'll have to wait here," Grant decided, shaking his head. Water flew from his hair in a spray that made his teammates step back. "If we delay, something bad could happen. The longer we stay in one place, the more likely something notices us. Let's head to the target area as soon as possible."
His teammates nodded, though not without reluctance. They trusted Grant's experience—he'd successfully completed three practical training missions already, more than most sophomores.
"Speaking of which," Chen, their scout specialist, said while peering through the rain, "where is the freshman who replaced you on the main team? I can't see him. Did he get scared and quit?"
The question hung in the air . Grant's expression remained carefully neutral, though his jaw tightened slightly. The defeat still stung not just losing, but how easily he'd been overwhelmed. Unohana's transformation from healer to killer had shattered his worldview about card categories.
"If you want to become a powerful cardmaker, you have to take this step," Grant said, voice steady despite the turmoil beneath. "I don't think someone who is afraid of a simple Silver-level Secret Realm could have defeated me."
It was a mature response, giving credit where due even though it burned to do so. Character growth through adversity either it forged you stronger or broke you entirely.
Movement at the edge of the clearing caught his eye. Through the rain, he spotted a familiar figure Russell, standing alone, apparently studying something on his phone with intense concentration.
Chen whistled low. "It seems that he's traveling alone. I heard this is his first practical training class, right? Is that too dangerous?"
Grant couldn't help but fall silent. The question touched on something he'd been trying not to think about. Arena combat and realm survival were completely different beasts. In the arena, defeat meant humiliation. In a realm, it meant death.
Even he had found his first training terrifying, and he'd had an experienced team guiding him. The seemingly endless forests, the constant paranoia about what lurked in shadows, the way exhaustion crept up until mistakes became inevitable it was a crucible that broke many promising cardmakers.
"Let's do our own thing first," Grant finally said, motioning his team to move out. "Geniuses like him will definitely have no problem staying alive."
Completing the mission, however, he added silently, is another matter entirely.
As they departed, Grant caught one last glimpse of Russell through the trees. Whatever happened next, it would be educational for everyone involved.
Russell stood in the rain, feeling the water run off Arrogance's protective layer like oil. He'd extended his mental senses in a careful grid pattern, mapping the immediate area and checking for threats. The rain was mundane, if oppressive. The trees were just trees, if unnaturally dark. No immediate monsters registered within his detection range.
Satisfied with his preliminary reconnaissance, he pulled out his phone one more time. The GPS function still worked—apparently dimensional boundaries didn't block satellite signals, though how that worked hurt to think about. His position showed clearly: two kilometers from his assigned zone, with difficult terrain between here and there.
Time to move.
Russell took a deep breath, tasting rain and alien air, then let Arrogance flow outward.
The effect on nearby students was immediate and dramatic.
"What the fuck—"
"Is that a monster? Here? Already?"
"No, wait, I think that's oh shit, that's a student!"
"That's Russell! The freshman who—"
"Holy mother of—"
Russell ignored the gasps, curses, and at least one scream. He had more important things to focus on. Reaching into Arrogance's genetic memory, he switched to the [Pointed Wings] module. The transformation was still disturbing to watch—his back split open with wet, organic sounds as wings emerged. Not the feathered beauty of angels or even the membrane elegance of bats, but something altogether more alien. Flesh stretched over modified bone structures, surfaces that could shift texture for optimal aerodynamics.
The wings spread wide, showering nearby students with rain and less identifiable fluids. Someone definitely threw up.
Without warning or farewell, Russell launched himself skyward. The takeoff cracked the ground beneath him, sending mud spraying in all directions. One moment he was there, the next he was a shrinking figure against the storm clouds, leaving behind only shocked faces and a perfectly foot-shaped crater.
His departure left a white trail through the rain—water vaporizing from the speed of his passage. In seconds, he was gone, swallowed by the storm and the endless forest beyond.
Behind him, the entrance area buzzed with excited conversation:
"Did you see that thing?"
"Is that even legal? Can we transform like that?"
"I'm rethinking my card choices..."
"We're supposed to hunt monsters, not become them!"
"Anyone else feeling really inadequate right now?"
(End of Chapter 120)
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