A Hunter''s Regret


    Beno Mark lay still, his body barely responding as he pressed his hands against the cold, blood-soaked ground. The air was thick with the metallic scent of death, and the silence was suffocating. He forced himself to move, crawling toward the fallen bodies of the hunters who had fought alongside him.


    His eyes landed on Ripen, the pink-haired hunter girl who had risked her life to save him. Her lifeless form lay motionless, a deep gash across her torso, her weapon broken beside her.


    A few feet away was Hunter 1, his watch still intact on his wrist, its screen cracked but still faintly glowing.


    Then there was Hunter 3—the youngest among them, even younger than Beno himself. His ID pass had fallen from his hand, and as Beno picked it up, he saw the boy''s smiling face in the picture.


    "I want to become an S-rank hunter one day,"* the boy had said once, his voice filled with naive determination.


    Beno''s chest tightened. He gritted his teeth as a sharp pain surged through his leg, but it was nothing compared to the agony inside him. He slowly bowed his head, his fingers trembling as he clenched the ID pass.


    "Forgive me… I couldn''t save you. I couldn''t even avenge you…"


    The words barely left his lips before his throat tightened, and an overwhelming sense of helplessness swallowed him whole.


    But he had no time to grieve. His leg was swollen, his body battered, and he had to get out of this cursed dungeon.


    A Desperate Cry for Help


    Dragging himself forward, Beno reached the exit of the dungeon, his vision blurred from the pain. He pressed his hands against the cold stone walls, trying to keep himself upright.


    "Help… Guard… someone… please…" his voice cracked as he called out.


    But there was no response.


    His breathing grew erratic. "Luna… anyone… please… HELP ME!"


    His desperate screams echoed through the cavern, bouncing off the walls like a cruel reminder of his isolation. He felt himself slipping, his legs giving out.


    And then—


    A deep growl sent a chill down his spine.


    Beno''s eyes widened as he turned his head, his blood running cold. A hound had heard his cries. The beast''s yellow eyes glowed menacingly in the darkness, its sharp teeth bared as it approached.


    Beno cursed under his breath. "You piece of shit…"


    With the last of his strength, he grabbed a nearby stone and hurled it at the hound''s skull. The impact was solid, and the beast collapsed, its body twitching.


    For a brief moment, Beno thought he had killed it.


    But then—


    "WOOOOOOOO!"


    The hound howled in rage, its eerie scream echoing through the dungeon.


    Beno''s stomach dropped.


    "No… no, please! I didn''t mean to! Don''t call your damn pack!"


    But it was too late.


    A swarm of hounds emerged from the shadows, their hungry eyes locked onto him. They circled him like crows over a corpse, their snarls vibrating through the air.


    Beno clenched his fists, his frustration and exhaustion boiling over.


    "I am DONE with this!"


    With nothing left to lose, he charged at them


    A Battle Without Strength


    His fist slammed into the nose of the nearest hound, sending it staggering back. Another beast lunged, clamping its jaws onto his limb, dragging him toward the ground.


    Beno screamed in rage, the pain tearing through his arm.


    "Why am I so weak?!"


    He reached for another stone, this time smashing it into the hound''s eye, causing it to yelp and release him. He stumbled back, clutching his injured arm, his breathing ragged.


    But there were too many.


    The pack pounced, biting into his flesh, their sharp fangs sinking deep. Blood splattered across the ground as Beno was torn apart piece by piece.


    The Breaking Point


    Pain.


    It was unbearable.


    Every fiber of Beno''s body screamed in agony, his skin torn, his bones battered, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His vision blurred as crimson painted the ground beneath him. His limbs trembled, weak and broken.


    The Hounds surrounded him, their yellow eyes gleaming with hunger. Snarls and growls echoed through the dark, blood-soaked cavern.


    He could feel it.


    His strength was fading. His body—failing.


    "No…" Beno croaked, barely able to lift his head.


    He tried to move, but the pain stabbed through his muscles like hot knives. His fingers clawed at the dirt, desperate for something—anything—to hold onto.


    But there was nothing.


    He was alone.


    His voice cracked as he whispered, "Please… please… system… awaken me… PLEASE!"


    Silence.


    No divine intervention. No miraculous awakening.


    Just the sound of his own labored breathing and the low growls of the approaching Hounds.


    A bitter, broken laugh escaped his lips. His breath shaky, tinged with despair.


    "In the end…" he whispered, his vision flickering. "The weak always die… in the world of power."


    His fingers loosened.


    His body slumped.


    And then—darkness.


    A hollow void began consuming him, pulling him into its cold embrace.


    His heartbeat slowed.


    It was over.


    The Hounds lunged.


    Their fangs tore into his flesh—his arms, his legs, his back.


    One clamped onto his shoulder, its teeth sinking deep, hot blood spilling down his chest.


    Another latched onto his thigh, dragging him down, its claws raking through his skin.


    Pain erupted everywhere. His body screamed in agony, but something inside


    Memories of the Past


    Then, like distant echoes, memories began to surface.


    Renzo.


    His younger brother, always smiling, always looking up to him.


    "Big bro! I want to be like you when I grow up!"


    His relatives.


    Their scornful glares. Their whispered words.


    "You''re useless, Beno. A disgrace to the family."


    His own cowardice.


    Running away. Abandoning everything.


    "No… stop…"


    The darkness deepened, swallowing him whole.


    He was sinking.


    Falling.


    Drowning.


    Then—


    A voice.


    A voice so small, yet so powerful it pierced the void.


    "Big bro… if I''m ever in danger, will you save me?"


    The voice was innocent, filled with trust.


    "Big bro… save me, okay?"


    And then, the final words—words spoken with pure love.


    "I love you, Big Bro."


    Beno''s eyes snapped open.


    The Awakening


    A violent storm. A fury buried deep within his soul.


    Beno roared in pure defiance, his body convulsing as an overwhelming force surged from his core.


    The air crackled.


    The cave trembled.


    A black aura, thick and suffocating, burst from his skin like a raging inferno, swirling in violent tendrils of void and violet energy.


    The Hounds froze, their bodies twitching in instinctual terror. Their primal minds screamed at them to flee, but it was too late.


    Beno''s eyes glowed, a burning mixture of violet and abyssal black.


    His pain vanished.


    His fear evaporated.


    All that remained—was wrath.


    And the Hounds?


    They had just become his prey.


    Beno clenched his fists.


    His voice, once weak and broken, now rang with fury and power.


    "I AM NOT DYING HERE!"


    The battle had just began


    Beno''s rage exploded, his body moving before his mind could even catch up.


    A hound lunged—fangs bared, eyes burning with primal hunger.


    Beno caught its skull mid-air, his fingers digging into its fur.


    With a guttural roar, he squeezed—


    CRACK!


    Bone shattered. Blood splattered. The beast''s head collapsed like brittle glass, and its lifeless body thudded to the ground.


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    The other hounds hesitated, instincts screaming at them to run.


    But Beno wasn''t done.


    A second beast lunged for his throat.


    Without thinking, he snatched its leg, twisting it with monstrous force—


    RIIIP!


    The severed limb flew across the dungeon, spraying blood in an arc. The hound collapsed, shrieking in agony, twitching on the stone floor.


    His body, once weak and trembling, now moved with absolute dominance.


    No hesitation. No mercy. No fear.


    Another hound charged.


    Beno pivoted—his fist shot forward, connecting with the beast''s snout.


    BOOM!


    A sickening crunch echoed as the force of his blow caved in its skull, sending the lifeless corpse skidding across the floor.


    The surviving hounds began backing away, their tails low, their eyes filled with terror.


    They turned, bolting toward the altar where they had devoured the fallen hunters.


    Beno watched them run—and smirked.


    His fingers twitched.


    The bloodied ground stirred.


    Two daggers—once wielded by the slain hunters—rose from the earth, hovering beside him.


    A single command.


    A flick of his wrist.


    And then—


    SHING! SHING!


    The blades ripped through the air, slicing through flesh and bone with inhuman precision.


    Heads rolled. Limbs flew.


    Dozens of hounds collapsed mid-sprint, their bodies twitching, lifeless.


    Silence fell.


    The surviving beasts trembled, bowing low, their bodies pressed against the ground.


    Beno stepped forward, his glowing violet and black aura radiating pure dominance.


    His gaze swept over the quivering creatures.


    Pathetic.


    He scoffed, his voice laced with raw power.


    "Fools. Shut the fuck up."


    The words struck the air like thunder.


    A sudden, invisible force crushed down upon them—


    SKULLS BURST OPEN.


    A sickening POP! POP! POP! filled the dungeon as heads exploded like overripe fruit, blood pooling in a grotesque display of his newfound strength.


    The remaining hounds didn''t just fear him now.


    A deep snarl rumbled through the dungeon.


    The Houndler Boss,


    a monstrous Hellhound three times the size of an average hound, and 3 head on body stepped forward, its dark fur bristling with infernal energy. Its molten-red eyes locked onto Beno Mark, filled with raw fury and the primal instinct to kill. Flames dripped from its jagged fangs, illuminating the bloodstained cavern in an eerie orange glow.


    It didn''t hesitate.


    The beast lunged, its massive jaws snapping forward, intending to tear Beno''s throat out in a single motion.


    But Beno was faster.


    With a sharp pivot, he sidestepped the attack, his movements almost unnatural. As the Hellhound flew past, Beno''s hand snapped out like a viper, gripping the beast by its thick, muscular throat.


    And then—


    BOOM!


    Beno hurled it like a ragdoll straight into the solid rock wall of the cavern. The force of impact shook the entire dungeon, sending cracks racing across the walls as debris tumbled from the ceiling. A deep howl of agony erupted from the beast''s throat as it slammed into the ground, its body convulsing from the sheer force.


    The Hellhound scrambled to its feet, fury blazing in its eyes. It reared its head back, chest swelling as flames gathered in its maw. A moment later—


    WHOOSH!


    A massive wave of fire erupted, roaring toward Beno like a flaming tsunami.


    Yet—


    Beno did not move.


    His gaze was empty. Hollow. Emotionless.


    Then, with a mere swipe of his bare hand, he cut through the fire itself.


    The moment his fingers passed through, the flames split apart, dispersing into harmless embers.


    The dungeon trembled. A crushing aura swallowed everything, warping space itself.


    Beno Mark floated midair, his crimson aura raging like a storm. Darkness coiled around him, suffocating all who dared stand.


    Slowly, he crossed his arms. Silence fell.


    Then, in a voice colder than death, he declared:


    "Kneel… or bleed."


    The words weren''t a warning. They were absolute.


    The Hellhound froze, its entire body shuddering in pure terror.


    It understood.


    This was not prey.


    This was a predator.


    The monster turned to flee, its instincts screaming at it to escape.


    Beno smirked. A slow, cruel, merciless smirk.


    "Behold the power of God."


    His aura exploded, an overwhelming wave of invisible force that crushed the very air around him.


    The Hellhound''s body suddenly jerked upward, its limbs flailing as it was lifted into the air against its will. It let out a panicked whimper, twisting and snarling in desperation.


    But it was already over.


    Beno clenched his fist.


    And then—


    CRACK!


    The Hellhound''s bones shattered all at once.


    CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!


    Its entire body caved in, folding into itself like a tin can crushed by an unseen force.


    The once-mighty Hellhound was compressed into a grotesque sphere of flesh, fur, and shattered bone, its blood spraying across the altar in a gruesome display.


    The sickening squelch of the remains hitting the ground echoed through the silent dungeon.


    Houndler was dead.


    His lifeless body collapsed, blood pooling beneath him. The once-mighty warrior—reduced to nothing.


    Beno watched in silence, his face void of emotion, as if death itself was nothing more than an afterthought.


    Then, in a voice cold and unshaken, he murmured:


    "Be strong… You were my first prey."


    He turned away, the weight of his words lingering in the suffocating air.


    "Glory of the dead."


    Beno exhaled. His vision blurred. His body trembled.


    Then—


    He collapsed, his consciousness fading into darkness.


    Rescue & Aftermath


    Outside, Luna''s heart pounded as the dungeon''s status suddenly changed—the boss was dead.


    "Beno!" she yelled, activating a one-time-use teleportation stone to enter.


    The sight before her was horrifying.


    Corpses. Blood. Mangled bodies.


    And there, near the twisted remains of the boss, lay Beno Mark—unconscious but smiling.


    Luna rushed to him, cradling him in her arms, her voice shaking.


    "Beno… Beno, wake up! Please!"


    She poured a health potion into his mouth, tears stinging her eyes.


    He had survived.


    And more than that—


    He had awakened.


    [End of Chapter 6]


    Thank you for always supporting me, guys!


    May the gods of plot twists bless you all! And don''t worry—your Shishu (Teacher) will continue working hard to bring you joy, excitement, and totally-not-traumatizing story moments. (Definitely not trauma... nope, not at all.)


    Let''s meet again in the next chapter! Until then, stay safe, stay awesome, and prepare yourselves—because the real fun is just beginning.


    Bye-bye~ and may your sanity survive what''s coming!