CHAPTER 60: CH 60: RUN TO SAFETY- PART 3

Nigel groaned the moment he saw the number of elite hunters positioned inside the room.

His sharp eyes swept across their formation, quickly analyzing the threat level. His expression soured.

"Fantastic. You just had to screw this up, didn’t you?"

Betty, ever unfazed, twirled her scissors in one hand and gave him a smile far too bright for the situation.

"How is this my fault? I was just about to catch my toy and leave. It’s them who got in the way."

She pointed casually at Fenrir.

A shiver ran down Fenrir’s spine as her gaze settled on him, and the word toy echoed in his ears like a curse.

Disgust and wariness flickered across his face, but he quickly masked them and focused on the room’s layout.

The hunters around him had already shifted into defensive positions, weapons raised and battle skills active.

Their formation was tight, coordinated—clearly trained for high-stakes combat.

Across the room, Betty and Nigel stood side by side.

The air around them warped with their magical presence. Betty’s carefree expression shifted to something more vicious. Nigel’s face was grim.

"We’re not walking out of here unless we clear a path."

Nigel muttered under his breath.

With a wicked grin, Betty took the initiative. Her power surged—an eerie green glow emanating from her hands as she pressed them to the ground.

In the next instant, the floor beneath the hunters began to sizzle and warp, melting into corrosive acid.

Several hunters leapt back in time, narrowly avoiding the spreading pool.

A few were grazed, their armor fizzling from the contact, but overall, the assault had limited effect. The room, however, was now more treacherous to navigate.

Nigel stepped forward and slammed his palm into the air. A transparent barrier rippled into existence, surrounding the two criminals in a dome of pure energy.

The hunters responded quickly, launching spells and ranged attacks at the shield—but nothing penetrated it.

Blades bounced off, elemental magic fizzled, and even coordinated attacks seemed to do nothing more than crackle against its surface.

"You’re wasting your energy. This is a reinforced mana shield. You won’t break it."

Nigel taunted, his voice echoing behind the barrier.

Murmurs of frustration ran through the ranks.

Fenrir, hidden near the back, clenched his jaw. He considered opening his own dungeon and escaping, but something kept him rooted—curiosity, or perhaps a desire to see how things would play out.

Then it happened.

A loud, resounding boom shook the air.

All heads turned as a tall man in a sleek, dark suit walked through the broken entryway.

He looked like a model straight off the runway—sharp features, tailored clothes, and an aura so heavy it pressed down on the room like a weight.

He cracked his knuckles and smiled coldly at the pair.

"You two are done,"

He said simply/

"Wha—?! That’s—"

Nigel’s eyes widened.

"Crimson Tears...Of all people, he had to show up...""

He growled, fists tightening.

Betty’s smile finally faltered.

"Rank #10 on the national hunter charts. He’s here."

One of the hunters whispered in awe.

Cheers rippled through the room, the tension lifting instantly.

Nigel’s face twisted in frustration.

"We don’t have the power to fight him right now. This mission’s already a failure."

Betty scowled, shaking her head violently.

"No! I’m not leaving without my toy!"

She took a step forward, hand stretched toward Fenrir, but she never made it far.

With a grunt of pure frustration, Nigel moved behind her and struck the back of her neck. She crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

"I said we’re leaving."

Nigel spat, glaring at Fenrir for a long moment before vanishing in a flash of movement, Betty slung over his shoulder.

The hunters surged forward, but Crimson Tears raised a hand.

"Let them go. We’ve secured the gate and the school. That’s enough for now."

He said calmly.

Though some of the hunters grumbled, they obeyed.

Fenrir let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

That had been way too close.

Once the two dangerous criminals vanished from sight, a wave of relief swept through the room.

The oppressive air that had loomed over them lifted, and hunters across the room let out exhausted sighs and lowered their weapons.

Fenrir, too, felt the tension drain from his limbs. His shoulders slumped as he leaned against the nearest wall, trying to steady his breathing.

His heart was still thudding in his chest, and his mind reeled with the intensity of the encounter.

But he barely had a second to collect himself before a group of the armed hunters surrounded him.

"Hey, kid—what’s your name?"

"Why were you here?"

"Are you involved with those two?"

The questions came at him rapidly from every direction.

Fenrir instinctively tensed, his eyes darting between the hunters as the pressure of their presence began to smother him.

He felt cornered, overwhelmed, and for a brief second, he considered activating a skill just to slip away.

But then a firm, commanding voice cut through the noise.

"That’s enough."

The hunters immediately straightened and stepped back as Crimson Tears approached.

His calm but authoritative tone silenced the room, and he positioned himself between Fenrir and the rest, giving the younger boy some space.

"He’s not a threat. Give him a minute."

Fenrir shot the man a glance, silently grateful. He took a deep breath, trying to center himself. A moment later, the tall hunter turned to him, his tone gentler this time.

"You alright?"

Fenrir nodded, pushing off the wall and standing straighter.

"Yes. Thank you."

"Good."

The man folded his arms, studying him carefully.

"Let’s start simple. Name?"

"Fenrir Black."

Crimson Tears nodded.

"And your reason for being here?"

"My teacher asked me to stay behind after class. I got caught up in the chaos after the monsters started coming out."

His voice was calm, steady, but still carried a hint of tension. The man didn’t doubt his answer—but he still wasn’t done.

"And why was Betty Rose so fixated on you?"

The hunter continued, his tone turning sharp again,

Fenrir stiffened, but he forced himself to hold the man’s gaze.

"I don’t know. The only thing I can think of... maybe it’s because I’m rich?"

He said honestly.

There was a beat of silence before Crimson Tears chuckled under his breath.

"Somehow, I doubt it’s that simple."

Fenrir offered a small shrug.

"That’s all I’ve got."

The man gave a thoughtful hum, then finally nodded.

"Fair enough. We’ll let it go for now. But if you remember anything else, report it. Understood?"

"Understood."

With that, the tension broke once more.

The armed hunters began to reorganize, some checking the surroundings, others moving out to begin clearing the school of remaining threats.

Fenrir stepped back, grateful the interrogation was over.

As he waited, a sleek black vehicle pulled up outside the shattered school gates. From it stepped out Rick, his brother’s secretary.

Rick walked straight toward Fenrir, face unreadable.

"Young Master Fenrir. Let’s get you out of here.""

He said, bowing slightly.

His presence didn’t go unnoticed.

"That’s Rick, right? Isn’t he the secretary of—""

One of the hunters murmured.

"The Black family? Figures.

Another finished.

Crimson Tears glanced at the car, then at Fenrir again. A faint smirk played at his lips.

"Well, he wasn’t lying about being rich."

As Fenrir stepped into the vehicle, he gave a final nod of thanks to the ranker. "Appreciate the help."

Crimson Tears returned the nod, then turned to his team.

"Alright. Let’s wrap this up."

"What are your orders?"

One asked.

"Clear out the remaining monsters. Sweep every floor. I want nothing left."

Crimson Tears commanded.