Vendetta stood by the foot of the bed, her arms crossed, watching the slow, even rise and fall of his chest. The sterile air of the hospital room hummed with a low, monotonous frequency, but her mind was replaying the scene from hours ago—the burning scent of ozone, the pulverized earth, and the colossal carcass of the mutated beast lying dead in the dirt miles away.
She remembered looking down from the helicopter door as the thermal scanners swept the tree line. The signal had spiked near C-Rank parameters, erratic and terrifyingly dense, before flatlining entirely. When they touched down, they hadn't found a team of elite mercenaries or a high-tier guild strike force. They had found a silent clearing, a corpse leaking dark vitae into the soil, and a massive, battered man sprawled in the grass, drowning in his own blood with his ribs caved in.
How?
The question scraped at the back of her mind like glass. He had carried no crystal-infused armaments, no tiered focal gear, not even a basic-grade blade. Just bare hands and broken bones. And yet, an almost C-Rank threat had been systematically dismantled.
When he had rasped out his claim—D-Rank—she had known it was a lie instantly. But instead of calling the guards or pinning him to the mattress, a sharp, calculating curiosity had taken root. She had decided to play along.
"You're awake already. Congrats on surviving," Vendetta said, her voice cutting cleanly through the quiet, sterile air.
Deicya swallowed hard, his throat dry and torn as he forced the words out with immense difficulty. "What do you want?"
Vendetta smirked, leaning slightly against the foot of the bed. "I just want to ask you a couple of questions. Are you the one who defeated that mutated beast?"
Deicya answered yes, his voice dropping into a cold, flat tone.
Vendetta's smirk deepened. "That mutated beast wasn't just any normal D-Rank. And yet, you managed to kill it all by yourself. What's your Vessel Hunter rank?"
"D-Rank," Deicya replied.
Hearing his answer, Vendetta narrowed her eyes slightly. She turned away from the bed, bringing her hand up to her tactical earpiece to quietly raise a communicator to her lips. She spoke in a low volume that dropped beneath a whisper, leaving Deicya unable to catch a single word.
Reaching into her coat, Vendetta tossed a worn leather wallet onto the sterile bedside table, flipping it open to reveal an official Driver License ID. The photograph stamped onto the card showed a scrawny, shaven face with entirely different features, bearing no resemblance whatsoever to the exhausted, battered big man lying in the hospital bed.
"You don't look like the person on this ID, do you?" Vendetta asked, her gaze locking onto him with piercing scrutiny.
Deicya didn't react. His expression remained entirely flat. "So what?"
Vendetta placed her hands at her hips, a calculating glint flashing in her eyes. Letting him spin his web, she decided to see how far the phantom D-Rank would take the bluff. "Don't worry. I'm going to give you your rewards for defeating the mutated beast since you did it yourself."
Deicya's voice remained cold and guarded. "What kind of reward?"
"You will be given enough Crystal Dust comparable to your defeated beast," Vendetta replied smoothly, "and I will get a C-Rank Healer to treat your wounds immediately."
Just as those words left her mouth, her tactical earpiece buzzed with a priority secure channel. It was the Vessel Hunter Organization of the Philippines, confirming what her instincts had already suspected: the profile belonging to Deicya Deleor did not match any active records in the national database. There was no registered D-Rank by that name anywhere in the system.
With an irritated gaze lingering on Deicya, Vendetta straightened up. "Stay put. I'm going to go arrange your rewards," she said, masking her suspicion behind a professional facade.
She walked out the door immediately to secure her privacy. Down the empty hallway, her eyes narrowed dangerously as a dark realization dawned across her features.
This bastard, she muttered under her breath.
True to her word, however, a few hours later, a heavy, deliberate knock broke the silence of the corridor.
KNOCK! KNOCK!
The door slid shut, locking away the quiet hum of the corridor as a man stepped fully into the room. He had the sharp, precise posture of a veteran practitioner, his close-cropped buzz cut accentuating a lean, wiry frame built for agility rather than brute strength. A pristine white monk's suit draped over his shoulders, the fabric unblemished save for the intricate runic patterns of raw crystal essence woven along the seams that cast a faint, cool blue luminescence in the sterile light. In his left hand, he carried a thick, leather-bound tome closed tight, its cover etched with silver conduit lines.
Deicya's dark eyes locked onto him. Without a sound, the familiar blue-tinted geometric script fractured across his vision.
Dreadnauth Vision activated.
The HUD rippled, stripping away the surface layers of the monk's calm demeanor to expose the raw data of his core:
TARGET APPRAISED
Name: Ghiou
Classification: Human Awakened
Primary Class: C-Rank Healer
Secondary Class: D-Rank Swordsman
Attributes: Dual-Path Integration / Advanced Mana Circulation
Deicya's breath caught slightly in his chest. A dual class? The system data explicitly laid it out. Not only was this man a certified C-Rank healer capable of stabilizing critical injuries, but his secondary core pulsed with the dense, balanced muscle density and physical output of a D-Rank swordsman. He wasn't a fragile medic hiding behind guild walls; he was a self-sustaining combatant who could slice through an ambush just as easily as he could stitch a wound.
In the periphery of his sight, Deicya instinctively mapped out the phantom silhouette of the man's secondary class—the invisible weight of a blade resting at his hip, the balanced stance of a swordsman ready to pivot and strike.
The healer didn't waste time with pleasantries. He stopped beside the narrow steel bed, his expression completely neutral.
Lifting the closed tome with his right hand, he raised it horizontally a few inches above Deicya's shattered chest.
For a fraction of a second, the monk's face tightened, a sharp wince crossing his features as if drawing the kinetic trauma straight out of the ambient air and channeling it through his own nervous system. The heavy leather cover of the book shuddered. With a mechanical snap, the clasp unlatched, and the tome forced itself open.
Fwump.
A blinding cascade of emerald light erupted from the pages. A thick, viscous green aura boiled up from the script-covered parchment, swirling into a dense mist before breaking apart into a warm, luminous downpour. The emerald rain cascaded downward, soaking instantly into Deicya's skin.
The transformation was instantaneous and violent.
The agonizing fire in his shattered ribs didn't just fade—it was forcefully snuffed out by a tidal wave of pure, restorative vitality. Bone fragments ground back into alignment beneath the flesh with a dull, internal click. The torn tissues in his throat knit together, and the deep internal hemorrhaging vanished as the foreign mana scoured his system clean.
Deicya sat completely still, his eyes wide with suppressed shock. The crushing weight that had pinned him to the mattress was gone. His muscles felt light, whole, and humming with fresh energy, leaving not a single trace of pain behind.
He stared at his hands, then up at the monk, realizing just how terrifying a C-Rank healer truly was.
Before the monk turned to leave, a deep voice suddenly cut through the room's silence.
"What's your name?" Deicya asked politely.
The healer lowered his heavy tome, closing it with a soft thud against his palm without missing a beat, and glanced back at Deicya.
"Ghiou," he replied flatly.
Without another word, Ghiou turned on his heel and walked out, the heavy door sliding shut behind him.
Stepping out into the sterile hospital hallway, Ghiou crossed paths with Vendetta just as she was walking back.
"The patient in that room is already treated. No wounds left," Ghiou stated flatly, not breaking his stride.
Vendetta offered a polite, respectful bow. "Thank you for your time, Ghiou."
Without pausing, the C-Rank healer kept walking down the corridor. Vendetta didn't waste another second. She marched straight to Deicya's door and pushed it open uninvited, stepping into the room with a small pouch clutched in her hand.
Without a word of warning, she tossed a heavy pouch onto the bedside table. It landed with a dull, dense thud, spilling a faint, shimmering glow from its loosened drawstring.
"This bag of pure Crystal Dust is your reward," Vendetta said, eyeing him closely. "It's more than enough to buy yourself standard equipment and secure food for the whole month."
Deicya looked at the pouch, then met her gaze. "Thank you."
As the words left his lips, Vendetta froze.
A strange, unsettling sensation crawled up the back of her neck. His voice wasn't the raspy, torn whisper of a battered man suffocating on his own blood from hours ago. It was a deep, resonant baritone, carrying a heavy, almost majestic weight that seemed to vibrate against the walls of the room. What is wrong with him? Her tactical instincts flared, warning her that something fundamentally unnatural had just shifted beneath the surface. Yet, masking her unease behind a cool exterior, she kept her posture steady.
"Look, if you're not planning to cause trouble, you're good to go," Vendetta said flatly, though deep in her mind, a cold resolve took root: I need to investigate this man. His strength—and whatever he is hiding—is far too suspicious.
Deicya gave a single, unbothered nod. "Alright. Let me just prepare myself, and I'll be on my way."
Stepping out of the hospital building and descending the concrete steps, Deicya paused, his eyes narrowing as he took in his surroundings.
This wasn't the gritty, fractured ruin of Quezon City he remembered. The sprawling architecture around him was sleek, orderly, and entirely untouched by the apocalyptic scars of the meteor event.
Unlike the marginalized and broken landscape of Luzon, this city looked thriving and technologically advanced. The streets bustled with people who radiated a potent, intimidating aura of strength. Civilians and warriors alike walked the avenues clad in high-grade crystal-infused armor, carrying polished swords and crackling elemental staffs, while others moved comfortably in traditional, natural attire. The buildings stood tall and completely fixed, presenting the illusion of a world that had never broken.
Leaning casually against a stone pillar to the right of the exit, a figure stood half-shadowed by the architecture.
Deicya hadn't even sensed her presence.
I didn't even notice her approach, Deicya thought, a cold jolt of realization flashing through his mind. That's the power of an A-Rank for sure… He was quietly amazed by his own Dreadnauth Vision and analytical capacity, which still hadn't fully measured the terrifying gap between ranks.
Vendetta pushed off the pillar, her gaze cutting straight to him. "You're probably wondering why this place looks so normal—and where you are," she said, a faint smirk touching her lips. "Welcome to Davao."
Deicya's eyes swept the bustling, unharmed avenues before snapping back to her. He answered with a cold, level tone. "Why?"
"Because of the direct connections the government here maintains with external superpowers," Vendetta replied simply.
Deicya's dark eyes locked onto hers, staring deep into her gaze. "What do you mean?"
"That's none of your business," Vendetta snapped back, her expression hardening. "I have to go."
In the blink of an eye, Vendetta was gone. Using a high-tier stealth displacement technique, she dissolved into a translucent shimmer, vanishing completely from Deicya's sight before he could blink.
Standing alone on the grand hospital steps, Deicya let out a slow, controlled breath. His eyes swept the empty space where she had just been standing, acutely aware of the terrifying tier gap between them. An A-Rank operative wasn't just strong; they operated on an entirely different plane of speed and perception.
Flipping open the pouch of pure Crystal Dust she had left him, a faint, soothing pulse of raw energy washed over his palm. It was time to get his bearings, gear up, and figure out his next move in this strange city.
Looking down at his appearance, Deicya realized he was still wearing standard hospital garments—completely out of place in a thriving metropolis. He needed proper clothes.
Stepping further into the bustling thoroughfare, he watched towering buildings line the streets, their architectural pillars pulsing with faint veins of raw Crystal Essence. He walked continuously for three minutes, his eyes scanning the storefronts until a specialized armory and weapon shop caught his eye on the right side of the avenue.
Through the clear reinforced glass display, a heavy, obsidian dark cloak immediately drew his attention.
Four hundred meters away, perched on a high vantage point, Vendetta pressed her eye tightly against the high-tier magical scope of her rifle, scanning for any unusual activity. Through the magnification lens, she watched Deicya slip inside the armory shop. She didn't remove her scope from the storefront, keeping her crosshairs locked onto the building as she intently monitored his every move.
After fifteen minutes of waiting, the glass door swung open.
Deicya stepped back out onto the street, now dressed in a clean black shirt, dark pants, and a sturdy new jacket, draped over by the deep, shadowy folds of the dark cloak he had just acquired. Through her crystalline scope, Vendetta watched closely as he slid a compact, crystal-infused dagger into his pocket before continuing his steady march down the avenue.
Vendetta suddenly muttered under her breath, a mix of frustration and bewilderment in her tone. "Seriously? He only uses a dagger? That's reckless… But… I think it's kind of cool."
She didn't remove her sight from Deicya, tracking him step by step through the crosshairs. But as he turned a corner, a massive commercial building suddenly blocked her line of sight, cutting off her angle entirely. Without missing a beat, Vendetta blurred into motion, leaping across the rooftops to reposition herself.
Landing on the next high vantage point, she reacquired her target just in time to see Deicya entering a quiet, well-manicured urban park to catch his breath and test the boundaries of his newfound core.
Finding an isolated stone bench beneath the shade of a flourishing acacia tree, Deicya sat down. He wanted to push his limits—to test how far his Dreadnauth Vision could reach now that his body had partially adapted and stabilized.
Closing his eyes for a split second, he focused his intent.
Dreadnauth Vision activated.
The familiar blue-tinted geometric HUD fractured across his vision, expanding outward in a rapid, pulsing wave. The overlay cut through physical barriers, mapping out the multi-layered infrastructure of Davao. Street vendors, passing pedestrians, guards on patrol—their internal classifications flashed briefly in his peripheral view like ambient data. He pushed the boundary further, testing the absolute threshold of his current reach.
Blocks away, past the commercial district, the outer perimeter of his HUD flickered and buzzed. The scan extended deep into the surrounding sectors, successfully piercing through structural walls and sweeping across the horizon until it locked onto a dense, erratic cluster of volatile energy signatures miles away. His system effortlessly parsed the threat data, updating in real time: B-Rank parameters detected. He could scan B-ranks now. The system's growth was staggering.
Just as he deactivated the HUD to clear the sudden cognitive strain, a sudden, violent concussive shockwave rippled through the air.
BOOM!
A thick pillar of black smoke and choking gray dust billowed into the bright afternoon sky several blocks down the thoroughfare, accompanied by the panicked screaming of civilians and blaring emergency sirens.
While Vendetta kept her scope locked on Deicya's previous movements across the park, her tactical earpiece buzzed sharply. A secure priority channel opened, patching in the voice of a Vessel Hunter Organization secretary.
"Vendetta, we have an emergency," the secretary's voice clipped through urgently. "A B-Rank mutant giant is currently rampaging along J.P. Laurel Avenue. It's causing minor casualties and major structural damage. It needs to be executed immediately."
Without a second wasted, Vendetta shifted her crosshairs away from the park, panning her high-tier crystal scope down the sweeping stretch of J.P. Laurel Avenue. Through the powerful magnification lenses, a towering, thirty-foot giant was clearly visible, thrashing through the streets and crushing everything in its path.
Adjusting her focal rings to precisely 4,000 meters, she locked the crosshairs dead onto the center of the beast.
"Target marked," Vendetta said smoothly into her communicator.
Blocks away, near the entrance of the commercial mall, Deicya noticed the sudden plume of thick smoke and rising dust rolling down the thoroughfare. Reacting on instinct, his eyes flashed with the blue geometric script of Dreadnauth Vision, appraising the distant disturbance.
A B-Rank Giant Mutant… Before he could even step forward, the air pressure in the street violently shifted. Across the skyline, positioned atop a high-rise building four thousand meters away, a blinding, razor-thin streak of blue plasma tore through the atmosphere. There was no sound of a gunshot—only the horrific, ear-splitting screech of displaced air as the vacuum-sealed projectile streaked across the city with absolute, terrifying speed.
Around him, civilians and passing warriors caught sight of the residual blue vapor trail searing across the sky. Instantly, cheers erupted from the crowd.
"It's the absolute sniper!" "Look at that line—that's the Absolute Sniper! She defeated it!"
Directly through Vendetta's crystal scope, the projectile struck the thirty-foot giant dead-center.
In a fraction of a second, the B-Rank mutant's head vanished in a deafening explosive blast of pulverized bone and crystal dust. The colossal body went entirely limp, crashing heavily to the asphalt.
Vendetta tapped her communicator. "Target is cleared. Send a ground team for sector recovery and clearing assistance. I'm heading back to the Vessel Hunter Organization."
Vendetta glanced back toward the park, four hundred meters distant, where Deicya had been standing only moments ago.
Standing frozen on the mall steps, Deicya stared down the smoking avenue. Following the vapor trajectory back with his enhanced vision, his dark eyes locked onto the distant rooftop. Standing tall against the wind, heavy rifle resting in her grip, was Vendetta.
She had single-handedly erased a catastrophic B-Rank threat from four thousand meters away as if it were nothing more than an insect.
Deicya let out a slow, heavy breath, shaking his head slightly as he stepped away from the park and turned back toward the bustling thoroughfare.
"So, this is a normal day in Davao City, huh."