CHAPTER 156: [FIND HIS WAY BACK]

The words hit like cold water.

Eli’s stomach twisted, his breath stuttering. For a second, he just stared at Mio—this S-Class hunter, the vice-captain, the one who was supposed to be unshakable—and he was asking him.

Him.

The one who couldn’t even fight.

The one who froze every time the System screamed danger.

The one who only survived because Kairo had dragged him out of the jaws of death again and again.

Eli’s throat tightened. His fingers curled into fists at his sides, nails biting into his palms.

’Why me?’ The thought came bitter, sharp. ’Why the hell are you asking me?’

Eli wanted to laugh. Or cry. Or both.

Because if he hadn’t argued—if he’d just listened—Kairo wouldn’t have been distracted. Kairo wouldn’t have taken that hit. Kairo wouldn’t have been thrown.

And now, he was gone.

The guilt burned hot and deep in his chest. He could still see it—the moment Kairo disappeared into the darkness, the sickening sound of impact echoing after him.

Eli’s breath trembled.

’You shouldn’t be asking me anything. You should be angry. You should blame me.’

His mouth opened, but nothing came out. The words tangled somewhere between his heart and throat, heavy and useless.

He looked down. The water reflected his face, blurred and distorted in the ripples. The stranger looking back at him had pale skin, shaking shoulders, and eyes too bright with fear.

He wanted to say "I don’t know."

He wanted to say "Kairo should be the one answering, not me."

But Kairo wasn’t here.

Eli’s hands curled into fists so tightly his nails dug into his palms. The sting grounded him—but only barely. The cold ache of weakness crept through him again, familiar and merciless, pressing down on his chest until it hurt to breathe. It wasn’t just exhaustion.

It was shame. Helplessness.

That same suffocating reminder that no matter how far he’d come, he was still him.

Still the one who couldn’t do anything when it mattered most.

And yet, even under all that weight, a small, desperate part of him kept whispering—the System.

He’d called for it. Begged it. Pleaded for anything—a notification, a voice, a single flicker of blue light—something to tell him it hadn’t abandoned him.

But it hadn’t said a word.

Not a single ping.

Not a single DING.

Not even the faintest whisper.

Just silence.

The kind that made his stomach twist.

’Why now? Why not when I need you the most?’

It had always been there before—guiding him through chaos, warning him when death was close, whispering clues when he had nothing else left to rely on.

So why not now?

’What are you waiting for?’ he thought bitterly, his jaw clenching. ’For me to break? For him to die? For all of us to—’

He cut himself off with a shaky exhale, dragging a hand through his hair.

No. He couldn’t think like that.

Not when Mel’s hands were trembling beside him.

Not when Zaira’s eyes were glassy and red from holding back tears.Not when Mio was still standing—barely—but looking at him with that quiet, expectant stare that carried more weight than any order Kairo had ever given.

Eli swallowed hard. The heaviness in his chest didn’t fade, but he forced his legs to straighten anyway, his muscles trembling with the effort.

He knew he was weak. He always had been.

He just hated feeling it again.

He hated that his chest still tightened the same way it did back then—when he was an E-Class nobody scraping through missions, getting carried by everyone else.

That was why he’d worked so hard, wasn’t it? To escape that version of himself. To prove he wasn’t just dead weight.

And yet... in this moment, that was exactly what he’d become again.

’No,’

he told himself. ’Not now. I don’t get to break down right now.’

He took a deep breath, letting the air burn through his lungs as he forced his thoughts into order. The fear, the guilt, the noise in his head—he shoved it all down.

"We..." His voice came out small, uneven. He cleared his throat. "...need to rest first."

Mel and Zaira looked up instantly, dull eyes flickering with faint attention.

Eli’s fingers twitched nervously, but he kept talking. "We’ll rest for now—just a bit. You both need to recover, store up your energy. When the time comes, we’ll need your abilities at full strength."

The words sounded steadier than he felt.

But then—

"And Kairo?" Mio’s voice came quietly.

Eli’s breath caught.

The question hit harder than a blade.

He froze. His throat constricted as all three pairs of eyes turned to him. Waiting. Hoping. Expecting something he couldn’t give.

He tried to answer, but the lump in his throat refused to move. No sound came out. His heart pounded painfully, his pulse roaring in his ears.

’What can I say?’

That he didn’t know if Kairo was alive?

That his Danger Sense hadn’t reacted once since the impact—and that terrified him more than anything?

That without Kairo... they had no chance of surviving the rest of this dungeon?

He forced a breath through his teeth, steadying his voice as best as he could.

"...We’ll find him," he said softly. "We have to."

It wasn’t confidence. It was desperation dressed as hope.

His eyes flicked toward the water again. The ink had thinned into black veins running across the cavern floor, stretching all the way to where the octopus loomed in the distance.

Eli could still see the faint red pulse beneath its massive body—the wound Kairo had made still glowing dimly through the mist.

He followed that faint light with his eyes, jaw tightening. Somewhere past that monster, beyond the thick pools of ink and stone, was Kairo.

He had to be.

Eli’s voice came out quieter now, rough around the edges. "But right now..."

He trailed off, his gaze locked on the octopus’s enormous shadow.

"We have to hope he’ll find his way back to us," he said finally, his words trembling, "before the octopus moves again."