14:39
Dev was just coming back from turning in a post-mission report when he passed by the trainee center. He hadn’t planned on stopping, but a familiar voice made him pause.
“Okay, watch carefully as I help your fellow trainee form his core,” Baek’s voice carried through the hall, steady and authoritative.
Curious, Dev leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, and peered inside. The training hall was filled with young trainees, all sitting cross-legged in a semi-circle. At the front, a single student sat with his back facing Baek, his posture stiff with nervous anticipation.
Baek was a legend in these halls—his reputation as one of the disciples of the Martial King was well known. He had not only ascended to the highest echelons of martial prowess but had also mastered the delicate art of core cultivation, passing on his knowledge to humanity's forces after his teacher died. Some even called him the second coming of the Martial King, not that Baek would ever accept that title.
Baek, already seated behind the trainee, mirrored his position, crossing his legs as he placed both hands gently on the young man's back.
“Try your hardest to sense the way mana moves in the environment,” Baek instructed, his tone even and patient. “Feel how it flows into his body, how it converges toward a single point. I’ll describe the process as it happens, but I want you all to focus—try to perceive the internal movement of mana within your peer’s body.”
The room was silent, the trainees hanging onto every word. Their gazes were locked onto Baek’s hands, watching for even the smallest shift.
Dev, finding himself intrigued, sharpened his own focus, observing the subtle ripple of mana beginning to pool faintly around the trainee.
“Good,” Baek murmured, glancing up to see the eager expressions before him. A small, approving smile crossed his face.
“Let us begin.”
………
It had been two weeks since Dev signed on as a porter. During that time, he had been trying to find any trace of the man known as Xyros.
He didn’t even know if that was the man’s real name—only that it was the alias he had used when he was a public figure. No one knew what he actually looked like; he always wore a sleek metal mask with a gleaming blue visor.
There were only three concrete details Dev had managed to dig up, pieced together from the few surviving government records and the rare post-raid interviews that still existed from his old life.
First, Xyros was an engineer of some kind.
Second, he had no mana—making him, technically, Unawakened.
Third, before his so-called "Awakening," he had lived in New York City.
Same as Dev.
That was his only real lead.
So he buried himself in public records, cross-referencing every scrap of information he could find. He made two lists—one sorted by height, build, and age, and the other refined even further, filtering by height, build, age, and the name Xyros.
Even with the filters, the list ended up being long. A painful reminder of just how many engineers called this 300-square-mile city home.
"Am I reaching? I can only get the body restructuring procedure when my stats are relatively baseline. Maybe I should focus on the things I can do right now instead of chasing a ghost." he thought, clenching his jaw in frustration with his hands rubbing his face.
His search was grueling, his eyes blurring over endless files, when suddenly—
BZZT.
Dev’s phone buzzed. A new text.
“Speaking of things I can do right now”
It was from Pantheon’s Porter Department.
[Pantheon Porter Department]
Sender: Dispatch Operator #2764
Timestamp: 14:32 EST
Assignment Details
Location: Brooklyn, NYC – Prospect Park, East Meadow
Gate Rank: Category Three (Low)
Estimated Threat Level: Low – Minimal threat, routine cleanup
Guild Assigned: Caelum (Rank C squad)
Objective: Assist in material retrieval and mana stone extractions
ETA to Deployment: 45 minutes
Important Notes:
- Standard containment protocols in place.
- Low-level creatures expected—bring your own weapons (Firearms are expected).
- Porters are to remain in designated extraction zones and avoid engaging hostiles.
Report to Checkpoint Delta upon arrival for briefing.
This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Reply CONFIRM to accept assignment.
Dev exhaled through his nose, thumb hovering over the screen for only a second before typing out his response.
CONFIRM.
The message sent instantly, and he set his phone down, rolling his shoulders.
Combing through public records wasn’t the only thing he’d been doing these past two weeks. This was America, after all.
He crossed the room and unlocked the reinforced safe inside his closet.
Firearms weren’t completely useless against monsters—not at lower-ranked Gates. Against Category Three and below, conventional weapons could still put down weaker creatures with well-placed shots to vital points. That’s why porters were encouraged to bring their own gear—just in case.
Dev pulled out his Glock 19, thumbed the slide back with a sharp snap, and slammed a magazine home. The smooth click was oddly reassuring.
Next, he grabbed his folding-stock SMG, a lightweight backup with high capacity. Guns weren’t his first choice—not compared to what Hunters could do—but he wasn’t stupid enough to show up unarmed.
Strapping the Glock to his thigh, he clipped on a basic ammo rig, making sure everything was secure. The familiar weight was oddly comforting—cold steel, solid and reliable.
He exhaled through his nose. "Now, how the hell am I supposed to get to Brooklyn with a bag full of guns?"
…….
As it turned out, New York cab drivers didn’t give a damn. The man barely glanced at the suspicious duffel wedged between Dev’s feet, too busy weaving through traffic and checking his phone for the next fare.
Even when the gate came into view—a swirling rift of violet light twisting the skyline—he only gave it a brief glance and let out a tsk, like it was just another construction site blocking his route. Then looked back at Dev giving him an understanding look as a fellow blue collar worker.
When Dev paid, the driver counted the cash, tucked it into his jacket pocket, and muttered with a slight accent,
“Thanks, boss. Stay safe, da?”
Then he drove off.
"Well, that was less stressful than I thought it would be," Dev muttered.
He had never been an official Hunter when he Awakened. Back then, he was still in med school, more focused on becoming a doctor than risking his life in some extra-dimensional feeding ground. It wasn’t until the war began—and the mass conscription of inactive Awakened—that he gained real experience with Hunter procedures. By then, things were a little different.
As he approached the gate’s front, he asked around for Checkpoint Delta and made his way over. It sounded like they were calling roll.
“Aria Martinez?” a gruff voice called out.
“Here!”
“Caleb O’Donnell?”
“Present.”
“Devesh Menon?”
Dev raised a hand slightly. “Here.”
The officer barely glanced up from his clipboard and moved on.
“Rowan Pierce?”
A voice answered from somewhere to Dev’s left. “Yeah, I’m here.”
Dev glanced over and spotted Rowan The man had dark green eyes and neatly styled dirty-blonde hair swept into a quiff. He stood tall—about 6' 3"or 6' 4"— a couple inches taller than Dev. He gave off the vibe of someone older, even though he looked to be around Dev’s age—something about the jaded look in his eyes. His stance was casual, hands shoved into his jacket pockets.
“Eric Park?”
“Here.”
“Isaac Thornton?”
“Present.”
The officer continued down the list, the names blending into a steady rhythm.
Once he reached the end, he tucked the clipboard under his arm and scanned the group.
“Alright,” he called out, clapping his hands once, “now that everyone’s here, I’ll give a brief rundown of the areas we’ll be covering. We’ll be mining, harvesting, and picking up monster corpses, as well as going over a little bit about the guys who’ll be keeping us safe and sound while we do our jobs.”
Gates didn’t stay open forever. They closed in one of two ways: When all the monsters inside were eliminated Or when the boss monster was killed.
For harvesting operations like this, the goal wasn’t a full clear. Instead, a squad of higher-ranked Hunters would be deployed to hold the boss in check while the miners and porters did their job.
“So, Team 3 will be stationed here,” the officer continued, gesturing toward a section on the map. “You’ll mostly be handling monster corpse retrieval. Team 6 should be nearby, running mining operations, so if you run into any trouble, holler at them.”
He glanced over his shoulder and smirked. “Ah, speak of the devil.”
He nodded toward the group approaching from the far side of the field. “This is the Hunter squad that’ll be playing hooky with the boss monster.”
There were six of them—four men and two women.
Two of the men wore sleek, green-tinted armor. One carried a longsword strapped across his back, while the other had a pair of daggers at his waist and a compound bow slung over his shoulder. Their movements were fluid and purposeful, clearly used to fighting as a pair.
The third man was bulkier, clad in heavy armor with reinforced plating. He heaved around a zweihander with practiced ease, the massive blade resting against his shoulder as if it weighed nothing.
The two women and the fourth man wore robes, their outfits hinting at magic users. One woman carried a staff, its head adorned with glowing stones. Her robes were layered with full-body Kevlar, giving her extra protection. The other mage had a series of glimmering talismans strapped to her belt, their faint glow pulsing with residual mana.
The final man wore reinforced combat gear, lighter than the others, built for speed and mobility. A medical pack was strapped across his back, with trauma shears and auto-injectors clipped to his belt. A field stim rested on his hip—a last-resort tool for stabilizing critical injuries. His hands glimmered with a faint, verdant glow.
“Alright, y’all,” the man with the longsword called out as he stepped forward. “I know Norman—the foreman here—already gave you the rundown, but I’m just here to reassure you.”
The foreman, whose name wasn’t Norman, grumbled, earning a few laughs from the group.
The Hunter smirked. “the zones you’ll be extracting from today were already cleared out by another team, so as long as you stay in your zones, you’ll be fine. This is a low Category Three gate, and I see some of y’all are strapped, so that’s double points.”
He gestured casually toward the group. “Also, y’all know we’re a squad of Cat-4 Hunters. Us being here? It’s overkill. And because it’s overkill, everything should go smooth as butter. Y’all get that?”
The porters nodded in unison, and that was that.
As the Hunters entered the gate, the porters remained on standby, waiting for the signal to begin. Dev stood near the edge of the group, shifting his weight slightly, when he suddenly felt a tap on his shoulder.
He turned around to see Rowan, hands casually tucked into his jacket pockets, offering a faint nod.
“Remember me?” Rowan asked.
Dev frowned slightly, scanning Rowan’s face before shaking his head. “No.”
Rowan gave a small smile. “Registration center. You’re the guy who fell into me.”
Dev’s eyes flashed with recognition, and he gave a slight nod. “Right. That was you.”
Rowan glanced toward the nearby porters gathering in their work zones.“Looks like we’re in the same sector—monster corpse retrieval, right?”
Dev followed his gaze, giving a small nod.“ Yeah. Guess so.”
Rowan tilted his head slightly, his tone casual. “Anyway, the foreman told us to pick a leader for each retrieval team, so I’m just letting you know before we vote on it. Unless you’re trying to be the leader.”
Dev’s brow arched slightly. “Do I get paid more?”
Rowan’s lips twitched into a light smirk. “No.”
Dev deadpanned. “Then no.”
Rowan let out a soft chuckle. “Figured.” He casually gestured toward the group. “Anyway, two of those guys volunteered, so let’s go throw in our ‘nays’ or ‘ye’s.’”
He turned and started toward the group, hands still tucked in his pockets, with Dev following, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder.