It's fulfilling. It's great. He felt like a heavy burden had been lifted off his back.
Now all he had to do was find a Heart in that Tower.
He shifted his eyes to his skill, Echo of the Divine Forge. There was something odd about this one. When he used it in the fight against Him, he immediately knew it was different from any skill he'd known.
Most skills were single-use before entering a cooldown state.
This one deserved some exploration. It had no cooldown and remained active until he deactivated it—or until his mana ran out.
He crouched and tapped the concrete wall. His focus turned inward, and a vast, empty chamber filled with blue water entered his vision. This was his Root. Untouched. Unseen. Waiting.
In the middle of the Root burned a single forge.
"Has that always been what my Nascent Heart looks like?" Shun wondered. There was no way to know. The last time he checked was when he had just become a Hunter—eight years ago.
He cast those thoughts aside and turned his attention to his Heart. He moved his awareness toward it. The blue water—mana—shifted into a glowing canal as he willed it. The canal pulsed toward his chest, then to his arm. Then his fingers.
He left the Root and returned to reality. He crouched again and pressed his fingers to the wall.
As soon as he did, it was as if his nerves had left his body and spread across the ground. The floor felt like it became a part of him.
And just like that—
> [Echo of the Divine Forge has been activated.]
He could move it.
Shun tested the limits of the skill. After several experiments, he concluded that it could be manipulated into the most basic shapes—squares, triangles, circles.
He tried to bend the concrete wall into a weapon, but it crumbled before long. He made note of that and moved on.
Pinching his chin, he wondered if his innate ability could be combined with the skill—but how should he apply it?
Let's try the basics, he thought. He channeled aura to the tip of his finger, activated the skill, and touched the wall. His aura vanished.
Immediately, tiny waves rippled across the wall like a disturbed puddle.
Nothing happened—
—or so he thought, until the wall suddenly exploded. Debris flung everywhere at high speed.
The blast hurled Shun across the room. He crashed into the opposite wall, cracking it slightly, before collapsing to the ground.
Fortunately, he was unharmed. Such an explosion wasn't enough to injure him—or any Hunter at his level.
"That's a success," he said, pausing. Then the corner of his eye twitched as he noticed the gaping hole in the wall.
You've gotta be kidding.
Bad things really did love him, huh? Might as well get married.
Shun took a deep breath and started cleaning up the mess. He carried slabs of concrete to the wall, then used the skill to merge them back—like clay blending into clay. The gaping maw recovered slightly.
He smiled, relieved it worked. He hadn't been sure it would.
Then he heard footsteps approaching. His eyes widened. "Crap."
He hastened his pace, picking up debris piece by piece.
Just like last time, he merged the broken pieces into the wall and restored it—
or so he thought, until he noticed a small hole the size of his head.
He looked around, panicked. His heart clenched tightly.
"Where is it?" he asked aloud, finding no trace of concrete anywhere.
Then, he heard it. They were already at the front door.
***
The staff opened the door to find Shun leaning against the wall, reading a manga.
He glanced at them and waved casually.
The staff scanned the room. Everything appeared normal—nothing out of place.
They frowned slightly, eyeing him with mild suspicion, but closed the door without a word.
Once they left, Shun let out a sigh of relief. He set the manga down and turned toward the hole, wondering how to fix it.
After a while, he decided it would be fine to leave it. They wouldn't check the room again anytime soon.
Shun looked at his hand, cloaked it in aura, and layered it with his skill.
The aura vanished from sight, but it remained—hidden under the skill's effect.
He knew what happened when it touched inanimate objects. But what about organic matter? Would it implode?
Shun shook his head. That's way too unrealistic. No way someone would explode just by a touch.
Convinced it was impossible, he deactivated both the skill and his aura.
Then, he turned to something that had been bothering him.
At some point, he had gathered empty bottles from around the hospital and lined them up neatly at a distance.
He also found some old posters and hung them in both rooms. The second room hadn't been locked, fortunately.
Now that the hole was "solved," he returned to his experiment and took position in front of the bottles.
He had used this move before in battle, but there was something about it that still intrigued him.
He pressed his hand against the wall. His Root stirred, his Heart warmed, and the mana canal pulsed.
The wall shifted—flattened concrete transformed into spikes.
Each spike varied in size: small and thin on the left, growing larger toward the right.
Shun focused. A burst pulsed from his Heart, and mana surged forward.
The spikes shot out.
Since he wasn't particularly skilled at ranged attacks, most of them missed.
One embedded deep into the far wall. He didn't mind. He had achieved what he wanted.
The velocity was the same regardless of size, but larger spikes decelerated faster due to drag.
That much was expected, but what truly excited him was something else—
for a few seconds, he could still feel the spikes. There was a connection,
even though they were no longer attached to him.
Just a few seconds—but in battle, that was more than enough.
If I use it right, I could turn the tide of a fight.
Satisfied with the result, he began cleaning up. Just as he thought he had exhausted every idea, a sudden flash of inspiration struck.
He touched the wall again.
This time, the concrete didn't soften physically, but spiritually. It obeyed.
"Okay," he muttered. "Let's get weird."
He sank his feet into the wall. Not stomped—sank, as if being absorbed by quicksand sculpted from stone.
It didn't hurt. It didn't feel natural, either.
It felt like jamming your nerves into someone else's skeleton.
Still… it worked.
He bent the wall forward. Ripples traveled through the concrete like waves through water.
His body moved with it, slithering sideways.
"Woah," he muttered, surprised.
Silently. Smoothly. Unhinged.
"Okay, that's cursed."
He stopped. Blinked. Then chuckled.
"I am wall," he declared, slithering further. "I am movement incarnate."
His grin widened as he prepared to shout the punchline.
He raised his voice.
"I AM—?!"
[Warning: mana low.]
He froze. His smile vanished instantly, like he'd seen a ghost. His heart dropped.
At the same time, his Root and Heart relaxed.
The mana canal sputtered like a dying faucet.
And then, everything stopped.
The wall hardened—trapping his legs knee-deep in vertical concrete.
"...Wait."
He pulled. Nothing.
He wiggled. Still stuck.
"This has gotta be a joke. System. Buddy. Pal. Don't you dare—"
[Skill terminated: Insufficient Mana.]
Shun screamed internally.
Now both legs were sealed in the wall, arms dangling, back arched, expression frozen somewhere between divine epiphany and stupid regret.
***
It took around half an hour for his mana to regenerate.
He reactivated his skill and slithered out of the wall, collapsing onto the floor.
"My back…" he groaned, dragging himself to bed.
He lay down, letting his spine relax after being hyperextended for thirty minutes.
He hoped there wouldn't be any long-term issues.
As he rested, his thoughts drifted to something heavy.
He stared at the ceiling and sighed.
It had been haunting him ever since his visit to the doctor's office.
He tried distracting himself, but no matter what he did, it came back— like an obsessed ex that refused to let go.
Another sigh escaped him.
He couldn't run from it anymore—the feeling that his grandmother would die in a few days.
Damn it all.
He didn't want to accept it.
But he had to.
Sometimes, forcing yourself is the only way forward when everything feels unbearable.
He wanted to do right by her.
Just the thought of her dying alone, with only him by her side, cut into his chest like a blade.
He wished it didn't have to be that way.
He picked up his phone and stared at a contact.
[Osamu Hanekawa]
He took a deep breath, then dialed.
One beep.
Two.
His heart clenched with each ring.
"Hello? Shun? Is that you?"
A sweet, melancholic voice poured into his ears. She sounded excited—and worried.
"Yes, it's me, Hanekawa-neechan."
"Oh my gosh! My little baby brother! How are you? I haven't heard from you in forever!
How's Grandma? Is she alright? Do you need money for her medical bills?"
A flood of questions—loving, frantic, heartfelt.
Shun smiled gently. His heart warmed.
"I'm okay, Nee-chan. But Grandma, she…"
"Stop right there, Shun," she said firmly, already understanding.
He nodded, even though she couldn't see it. Somehow, it still felt like she was right in front of him.
"I'll be back in Japan in a day—no, in twelve hours!" she declared.
"You don't have to rush, Nee-chan. Won't your colleagues be upset?"
"What are you saying? This is important!
Even if the Tower comes alive and eats everyone tomorrow, I'll still be there!"
"Thank you, Nee-chan." His voice trembled slightly, grateful that someone still cared.
"Anything for you!" she said warmly. Then paused. "Ah, I have to go! We'll catch up later, byeeee~!"
"Okay. Be careful."
"You can leave it to me!"
The call ended.
His smile faded as he scrolled to two more contacts.
[Father]
[Mother]
He hesitated, then decided against calling them.
Instead, he tapped on a different name.
[Osamu Kaoru]
His little brother.
He called without hesitation.
Two beeps. Ten.
One call turned into forty.
None were answered.
He closed the phone, already knowing the truth.
Even so, his determination didn't waver.
"I'll drag you here, Kaoru," he muttered coldly.
His eyes sharpened with resolve.