CHAPTER 86: SCRAWNY

The alley was quiet except for the faint hum of mana coming from the man’s battlesuit. The pulsing blue light of the core in his chest made him look like a phantom lurking in the shadows. River’s sharp eyes didn’t miss the man pressing two fingers against his ear, his tone dripping with confidence.

"I’m more than sure," the scrawny man said, his voice carrying that smug assurance of someone who thought he had everything under control. "I found him. Let’s teach this guy a lesson."

A small click followed, then silence. The man lowered his hand slowly, like a predator savoring the moment before striking.

River tilted his head, feigning curiosity. "Wow, even calling for backup? I’m flattered. Are you telling me you’re not confident enough to defeat me on your own?"

The man chuckled, the sound cold and mocking. "Confident? No. Smart? Yes. Why would I throw myself against someone who can solo a D-Rank Dungeon Boss? I’m not a fool."

River let out a soft sigh, his lips curling into an amused smile. "Here I was, thinking you were just another mob lurking in an alley. Seems like you actually have some brain cells to rub together."

The man’s expression twisted in irritation. "Don’t compare me to those idiots. I’m not like them." His tone turned sharp, cutting through the quiet night. "And besides... you should be worried about yourself right now. You’re doomed. Did you really think you could keep shutting down dungeons without facing consequences?"

River raised an eyebrow, his posture casual as his back leaned against the damp brick wall. "Isn’t that what Hunters are supposed to do? Clear dungeons, close the gates before things get worse?"

A flicker of something unreadable passed through the man’s eyes, but it quickly hardened into hostility.

River understood the sentiment behind those words, though. Hunters weren’t just adventurers—they were a community, bound by an unspoken agreement. If someone closed a dungeon too quickly, other Hunters lost their shot at loot, experience, and prestige. In their world, that was enough to spark grudges, vendettas, and even killings in back alleys.

Normally, River would’ve cared about those silent rules—if he were still the same man he used to be. But he wasn’t. He had come back for a reason, and none of those reasons included keeping a fragile balance for the convenience of selfish Hunters.

He came back to save the world, not to play politics with treasure hunters.

The scrawny man continued, his voice low and full of warning. "We’ve been at peace, you know. But those dungeons you’ve been closing before others even get a chance? That’s selfish. That’s crossing a line."

River’s head tilted slightly, his tone casual. "So you’re representing them? The Hunters? Or is this personal?"

The man grinned, thin lips curling like a blade. "If you want to put it that way... then yes. But I also represent myself." His voice dropped an octave, eyes flashing with a dangerous gleam as they traveled down to the satchel hanging by River’s hip. "And the treasures you’re carrying."

There it was—the real reason, as raw and ugly as greed could be. For a moment, River just stared at him, silent, then let out a dry laugh.

One second, this guy was preaching about peace among Hunters, painting himself like some enforcer of silent laws, and the next, his mask cracked, revealing what he truly was—another scavenger chasing shiny things.

"What rank are you?" River asked, though the answer didn’t matter. He had already swept the man with his mana sense. The fluctuations told him everything—this one was strong for his level, but still leagues behind River.

"D-Rank," the man answered proudly, mana swirling around him like an ominous halo. His suit shimmered as conduits lit up with energy. "And you..." His eyes narrowed, studying River like a hawk. "If I had to guess... B-Rank. Yeah, there’s no way a C-Rank Hunter could take down a D-Rank Dungeon Boss alone. Not in this city. Unless you’ve got the same kind of talent as Nolan..."

He chuckled. "But Nolan’s one of a kind. The only prodigy here who can pull off something like that."

River didn’t flinch at the mention of Nolan’s name. Of course, that kid was already famous—he’d expected as much.

"You’re wrong," River said with a smirk, his voice calm yet dripping with mockery. "I’m nothing like Nolan." He paused deliberately, his eyes scanning the man from head to toe. "We are different. I’m handsome, and you..." River’s grin widened, sharp as a knife. "...you look like someone who’s been run over by a train—twice."

The insult landed like a spark in dry grass.

"You—!" The man’s eyes flared in rage. In the next heartbeat, his figure blurred, vanishing from sight.

River’s smile faded as a dagger glinted in the dim alley light, already slicing through the air toward his throat.

Fast.

Too fast for a normal D-Rank.

Speedster? No... the mana ripple pattern didn’t match. Then what—

River didn’t have time to finish the thought. Reflex took over. With a flick of his wrist, he conjured a small sphere no larger than his thumb. The Bubble Bomb pulsed faintly with unstable mana. He hurled it forward, and the moment the dagger crossed its path—

Pop!

The bubble burst in a sharp bang, a concentrated shockwave of mana forcing the blade off-course by a hair’s breadth.

The man’s momentum carried him forward, and River moved like water, summoning another Bubble Bomb. This one wasn’t just raw mana—it was reinforced with Moisture Gathering, compacting the surrounding air and droplets into razor-sharp shards within the sphere.

With a snap of his fingers, the bubble detonated. A violent wave of chaotic mana and pressurized water slashed outward, ripping through the alley with a deafening hiss.

The scrawny man grunted as the force slammed into him, sending him hurtling toward the brick wall. But before impact, his body shimmered, blurring once again—teleporting a few meters to the side like a phantom flicker.

Blue-white light flared across his battlesuit as the mana core pulsed wildly, stabilizing the residual energy from River’s blast. Sparks of lightning crackled along his limbs, the conduits in his suit glowing brighter as if feeding off his adrenaline.

River’s eyes narrowed, his voice low. "...Teleporter."

Finally, he had a name for the ability. That explained the erratic movement, the way he could bend momentum without breaking bones. Dangerous—especially in confined spaces like this alley.

The man straightened, wiping a thin line of blood trickling from his lip, his expression cold and sharp. "You’re good," he admitted grudgingly. "Fast reflexes... for a mage."

River smirked, twirling a bubble between his fingers as if it were a coin. "I’ll take that as a compliment, Scrawny."

The man blinked, surprised. "You know my name?"

"I do now," River said casually, his tone almost bored. In truth, he didn’t know—it was just a lucky shot. A guess based exactly on the man’s appearance. But judging by the flicker of shock in the man’s eyes, River had struck a nerve.

The tension between them thickened like a storm ready to break. Electricity hummed from Scrawny’s suit, casting jagged blue shadows on the walls. River’s bubbles floated lazily around him, glimmering with an ominous sheen under the pale moonlight.

"Tsk." Scrawny spat on the ground, his eyes burning with stubborn rage. Twirling his dagger between his fingers, he glared at River. "I can’t defeat you—I know that. But it doesn’t mean I can’t fight you!"

The moment the last word left his lips, his body vanished like smoke.

River’s pupils shrank. In that fraction of a heartbeat, he activated the revised version of Mana Gathering—a rapid, outward wave of mana like a pulse that bounced back instantly, painting a mental map of everything around him.

Behind me.

He didn’t turn. There was no time. Instead, River snapped his fingers, and a cluster of tiny bubbles materialized behind him. The blade sliced through the air but collided with the bubbles mid-flight, each one bursting with a sharp pop that disrupted the dagger’s trajectory just enough.

Steel scraped against the bubble’s surface, but the impact lost its killing edge.

River seized the opening. His mana surged, and in a blink, a protective bubble enveloped his body.

A chain of muted explosions rippled across the barrier as Scrawny unleashed a barrage of rapid strikes from behind. The sound hadn’t even faded when something flickered at the edge of River’s vision—front, this time.

Fast.

Scrawny materialized with a snarl, pressing his dagger hard against the bubble. Sparks hissed as blade met barrier. "Coward!" he spat before vanishing again, reappearing several meters away, chest heaving, eyes burning with frustration.

River’s brow furrowed. This is going to be troublesome. Fighting another Hunter wasn’t just about raw stats. Speed, adaptability, and skill precision could overturn even a massive power gap. And this opponent... his movement... his Skill was relentless, sharp like a blade in the dark.

"You can escape anytime you like," River said evenly, his smile faint but unshaken. "But me? I can’t. I can only defend myself... so I’d say this is fair."