Chapter 67: Drowning in Questions
The wind howled softly as Sakamoto sat hunched over on a worn-down bench, his fingers curled around a cup of tea that had long since lost its warmth. His eyes, once sharp and filled with determination, were now clouded, staring blankly into the liquid as if searching for answers at the bottom of the cup.
A single tear rolled down his cheek, splashing onto the rim of the cup before trailing down his fingers. His grip loosened slightly, and the tea trembled in his hold. A slow exhale left his lips, his breath visible in the cold air, as the memories flooded back—his grandmother's warmth, the way she smiled at him, how she always called his name softly when he trained too hard.
"I thought I had all the time in the world to keep her safe… but they took that from me," he muttered under his breath.
The betrayal cut deeper than any wound. Bartoni was dead—the one person who could have answered the storm of questions in his heart was gone. And now, all that was left was a void inside him, an emptiness that no amount of training, fighting, or victories could fill.
The cup in his hands slipped from his grip, tumbling to the ground, spilling what little remained of his tea onto the pavement.
Across the World: The Call to Antarctica
American Hunter Association—Washington, D.C.
Cecelia, the President of the American Hunter Association, stood by her office window, a sealed invitation lying open on her desk behind her. The words "Summit in Antarctica" burned into her mind. It was an unprecedented meeting, one that could change the future of the world's hunter organizations.
"They finally want to talk."
The faint sound of footsteps echoed behind her as Marcus, her personal bodyguard and most trusted hunter, approached.
"Madam President," Marcus spoke firmly. "The council has secured all necessary arrangements for your travel. We'll be leaving first thing tomorrow at 9:00 AM."
Cecelia didn't turn to face him. She merely nodded.
"Good. I expect nothing less."
Russian Hunter Association—Moscow
The towering Andrei Korsakov, President of Russia's Hunter Association, stood with Boris beside him as they both examined their invitations. The cold winter air from the open balcony brushed against their faces, but neither of them seemed to mind.
"Antarctica…" Boris muttered.
Andrei let out a deep breath. "If the world's leaders are gathering, it means the situation has escalated beyond what we can handle individually. We leave tomorrow."
Without another word, he crushed the invitation in his massive hand.
Chinese Hunter Association—Beijing
Inside a sacred temple, the Chinese Hunter Association's President, Zichen, stood in the center of a meditation hall, the invitation placed before him. Wei, his trusted second-in-command, knelt beside him.
"A world summit…" Wei whispered.
Zichen, an elder well into his seventies, exhaled slowly, his aged eyes filled with wisdom. "A storm is coming. We must be prepared."
Egyptian Hunter Association—Cairo
In the heart of Africa, Anzeyt, the President of the Egyptian Hunter Association, stood with his subordinate Osiris at his side. The setting sun cast an amber glow over the desert sands outside the grand hall.
"This is a gathering unlike any before," Anzeyt said, his voice deep and commanding.
Osiris, a young hunter with keen eyes, looked up at his leader. "And if we refuse?"
Anzeyt turned to face him, the light reflecting in his dark eyes. "Then we will be left behind."
Seoul: A Meeting on the Horizon
Back in Seoul, the soft sound of approaching footsteps pulled Sakamoto from his thoughts. He looked up from the shattered cup at his feet.
Mujin stood before him, his black coat swaying lightly in the breeze.
"Drowning in thoughts, huh?" Mujin's voice was calm, yet firm.
Sakamoto clenched his fists and looked up at the older hunter.
"Tell me, Mujin… was The Ten right about the Hunter Association?"
Mujin didn't respond immediately. Instead, he let the silence settle between them before he spoke.
"It's not about right or wrong, Sakamoto. It's about perspective. The Association makes choices that aren't always easy. Some sacrifices are made, some are left behind. But what you choose to do with that knowledge—that's on you."
Sakamoto's jaw tightened.
"Then tell me… is this what it means to be a hunter? To just accept whatever the Association decides, no matter how many people suffer because of it?"
Mujin sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I don't have the right words to give you, kid. Whatever you decide, make sure it's your own choice—not mine, not Bartoni's, and definitely not The Ten's."
The two stared at each other for a long moment before Mujin turned away, his voice softer this time.
"When you're ready, you should start searching for your origins. A lot of questions will be answered when the time is right."
Sakamoto said nothing. He simply sat there, the weight of the truth pressing down on his chest.
Mujin stepped back and glanced toward the sky.
"I'm leaving for Antarctica tomorrow," he said. "I hope I see you when I get back."
And then—he vanished.
The only sound left behind was the howling wind and the faint clink of porcelain as Sakamoto's shattered cup rolled across the pavement.
Seoul: The Gathering of the Houses
Back at the Hunter Association, Mujin reappeared inside his office, where every house leader was already waiting. The tension in the room was heavy.
Mujin exhaled before he spoke.
"I've told Sakamoto everything. He knows about his lineage, about his grandmother, about Jushin. Now, it's up to him what he does with it."
The room fell silent for a moment before Daisuke finally spoke up. "Are you sure that was the right move?"
Mujin closed his eyes for a brief second. "No. But he deserved to know."
He turned to the gathered leaders and continued, "I'm leaving for Antarctica with Akebi. While I'm gone, I expect you all to keep an eye on him. If The Ten ever decide to move, he'll be their top priority."
The leaders nodded in agreement, their expressions grim.
"Consider it done," Thomas said firmly.
Mujin nodded.
"Good. Then that's all."
He turned toward the door, his mind already set on the challenges ahead.
Elsewhere: A Familiar Face Approaches
As Sakamoto sat lost in thought, he barely noticed the figures approaching him from the side.
Madagascar and Tito walked down the path, spotting him from afar.
"Yo, Sakamoto!" Madagascar called out, waving.
"Damn, you look like hell," Tito added with a smirk.
Sakamoto sighed, rubbing his face before pushing himself off the bench.
"You guys never know when to quit, do you?"
Madagascar grinned. "Nope. That's why we're here."
The three of them walked together, the weight of the past lingering but not defining them.
At least, not yet.