EPISODE ONE - 3

The heavy iron gates of Kanagawa Castle creaked open, revealing a long, polished hallway bathed in an eerie, bluish glow. The walls were lined with ancient tapestries, remnants of a bygone era, yet beneath the historical grandeur was the unmistakable hum of advanced technology. The group of high-ranking officials, led by Akihiko Kanagawa, moved through the corridor with measured steps.

Among them, General Ryunosuke Takeda, Beside him, General Daigo Arakawa, the government's brutal enforcer, exuded impatience, his scarred knuckles tapping rhythmically against the metal railing as he walked.

At the rear, Itsuki Fushida, the recently displaced chairman of the Private Hunter Association, trailed slightly behind the others. His cold, appraising stare lingered on Akihiko's back, resentment simmering beneath his composed exterior. He had once ruled the Hunter Association with an iron grip—until Akihiko stormed in, taking everything. Now, he was here as an outsider, forced to witness the empire that had grown in his absence.

Akihiko, as poised as ever, turned to face them. His tailored black suit, crisp as always, barely shifted as he gestured toward a set of reinforced doors. "Gentlemen, welcome to the heart of Kanagawa Castle. Before we proceed further, I must warn you—what you are about to see is unlike anything you've witnessed before."

The doors slid open with a deep mechanical hiss, revealing the Observatory Room.

A massive, circular space spread out before them, enclosed by high-tech glass panels displaying a dizzying array of data streams, energy readings, and holographic projections of door activity. Dozens of researchers and operators bustled about, their voices a low murmur beneath the steady hum of machinery. The air thrummed with raw energy, thick with the scent of steel and ozone.

The generals exchanged glances. Takeda's expression remained unreadable, but Arakawa's tapping fingers halted. Itsuki narrowed his eyes, his lips pressing into a thin line.

Akihiko strode to the center of the room, where a colossal screen flickered to life, revealing an expansive subterranean map of Kanagawa Castle.

Then, with a flick of his wrist, he zoomed in.

A hush fell over the room as the screen displayed ten massive sub-levels—each housing ten doors.

One hundred doors.

The weight of the revelation settled in like an iron shroud.

Takeda broke the silence first. "This… this is impossible." His sharp eyes darted over the schematics. "The largest known facility holds barely a fraction of this."

Arakawa let out a low whistle. "You're telling me all of these are active and the Kanagawa family have been the only protectors for years?"

Akihiko inclined his head. "Correct. This is the largest collection of doors ever recorded. And it is precisely why I called for more hunters. You mock my request, yet you stand here—faced with the scale of our reality."

Silence.

Itsuki exhaled through his nose, barely containing his disdain. His jaw tightened as he spoke, voice laced with frustration. "This changes everything. And yet, somehow, you knew all along. Didn't you?"

Akihiko allowed a small, knowing smile. He didn't answer. Instead, he gestured toward the next section of the facility. "Shall we continue?"

They had only begun to scratch the surface.

Akihiko led the group down a reinforced corridor, the air growing colder as they descended deeper into the castle's subterranean levels. The walls shifted from stone to sleek, reinforced alloy, humming with concealed energy conduits. The Research Lab was vast, a high-tech facility brimming with innovation.

Rows of containment units glowed with raw mana crystals, pulsating in hues of violet, emerald, and deep azure. The energy radiating from them made the air feel charged, almost electric. Scientists in lab coats moved briskly between workstations, monitoring readings, adjusting weapon prototypes, and overseeing live tests.

At the center of the room, displayed like relics of war, were advanced combat suits—sleek, reinforced exoskeletons designed to augment a hunter's abilities. Some bore integrated mana cores, allowing for energy-based enhancements, while others focused on raw defensive fortification.

Akihiko gestured to a nearby scientist, who activated a demonstration. A prototype rifle was loaded with a mana-infused cartridge, and when fired, a concentrated blast of energy disintegrated a reinforced target across the room.

The generals were stunned.

Takeda stepped forward, running a gloved hand over one of the suits. His analytical gaze swept over its intricate structure. "This… this could allow non-hunters to fight." His voice was measured, but the implications were clear.

Arakawa cracked his knuckles, eyes gleaming. "You're telling me we could mass-produce hunters?"

Akihiko smiled faintly. "No. But we can narrow the gap." He gestured toward the mana crystals. "Hunters are limited by their natural abilities, these weapons would greatly enhance them in combat, and with the right technology, even a civilian could hold their own against lesser-ranked monsters. And for trained soldiers?" He let the thought linger.

Itsuki, arms folded, watched everything in silence. He wasn't impressed—he was calculating. What would this mean for the power balance? Who would control this technology?

The weight of the revelation settled in. Akihiko had moved past hunters. He was reshaping the battlefield itself.

"Shall we continue?" Akihiko said smoothly. "There is something else you should see."

They entered an expansive strategic command center, where a massive holographic projection of Japan hovered midair. Sixteen castles blinked across the map, each marked with energy readings that fluctuated in real-time.

Akihiko stood at the center, hands clasped behind his back. "There is a theory—one that history has long overlooked."

With a subtle motion, he expanded the display, showing detailed energy waves emanating from each castle.

"The castles were not merely fortresses. They were built as stabilizers, gateways—to contain and conceal something far greater. The portals."

A sharp silence followed.

Takeda's brow furrowed. "You're saying these castles were designed to… suppress them?"

Akihiko nodded. "Not just suppress. Regulate. Each location aligns with ley lines of energy, maintaining equilibrium. Without them, the portals could have spiraled out of control centuries ago. But here's where it gets interesting."

He zoomed out, revealing energy signatures beyond the castles—weak, scattered, but present.

"We have only mapped what we can see. But what if there are more?" His voice was quiet, yet it carried weight.

Arakawa exhaled sharply, rubbing his jaw. "You're suggesting there are undiscovered portals."

Akihiko's gaze sharpened. "I don't suggest. I am certain. And if we can locate them—this could be the greatest source of power and wealth in modern history."

The room felt heavier.

Itsuki finally spoke, his voice low. "And who controls that power?"

Akihiko smiled. "Whoever finds it first."

In the dimly lit observatory room, Akihiko brought up a new holographic projection—a detailed bestiary of known monsters, their outlines flickering with energy signatures. He turned to the assembled officials, his expression unreadable.

"We classify monsters from Class D to Class A, but I believe this system is… flawed. Incomplete."

With a flick of his wrist, the first category appeared:

Class D – Lesser Threats: Razor Crawlers, Shadow Rats

"Pests. Dangerous in numbers, but manageable."

Class C – Moderate Threats: Death Wolves, Ash Serpents

"A real danger to civilians and untrained fighters."

Class B – High Threats: Void Stalkers, Iron Golems, Battle Orcs, Cannibal Giants

"Capable of taking down entire squads of hunters."

Class A – Extreme Threats: Abyssal Behemoths, Phantom Reapers, Death Elves, Hell Mages.

"Only the strongest hunters can face them—and even then, survival is not guaranteed."

The projection flickered again, and the screen glitched. A void-like outline formed, a silhouette with no defined shape. An unknown entity.

Akihiko let the moment stretch before speaking. "But what about beyond Class A?"

Takeda's sharp gaze narrowed. "You think there are creatures even stronger?"

Akihiko turned to him. "No. I know there are."

Silence.

Itsuki exhaled slowly, his fingers drumming on his arm. "If such creatures exist, why have we never encountered them?"

Akihiko's smirk was slight. "Who says we haven't?"

The room's temperature seemed to drop.

"Perhaps they remain unseen… for now."

Arakawa's voice cut through the tension. "You've been requesting research permissions on a top hunter asset. Why?"

Akihiko remained composed. "Because our hunter classification is just as incomplete as our monster classification."

He stepped forward, bringing up hunter ranks alongside the monster tiers.

Class D to A—the standard tiers, determined by combat prowess and successful hunts.

Class S—an unofficial rank for hunters whose abilities defied standard grading.

Akihiko's gaze lingered on the highest rank. "Class S is where we stopped. But what if it isn't the peak?"

Takeda's eyes flickered with realization. "You're saying there might be hunters who exceed even Class S?"

Akihiko gave a slow nod. "There is an old story. A forgotten class of hunters who could destroy doors entirely. Who could alter the natural world itself."

The weight of his words hung in the air.

The generals exchanged wary glances. They had seen what their strongest asset—Jin Seiichi—could do. If even he wasn't the limit…

"What comes after Class S?" Itsuki finally asked, his voice measured.

Akihiko simply smiled. "That's what I intend to find out."

The grand hall of Kanagawa Castle fell into silence after the last of the generals departed. The heavy doors sealed shut behind them, leaving Akihiko alone with his secretary, Hyami.

She stood beside him, arms crossed, watching the holographic displays dim one by one. The weight of the conversation still lingered in the air.

"Was it true?" she asked finally, her voice steady but laced with curiosity.

Akihiko, still staring at the now-empty briefing table, smirked. "Which part?"

"You know which part," she pressed. "The incomplete rankings. The hunters beyond Class S. The monsters no one has seen."

Akihiko exhaled, then turned to her. "I wasn't lying."

He flicked his wrist, and a grainy projection appeared—a sketch of an old, worn diary. The pages were yellowed, the ink smudged. Symbols and names of creatures far beyond the known classifications filled the page, scribbled in frantic handwriting.

"I saw this once in father's study," Akihiko admitted. "A heirloom passed from one warrior to another, a diary that categorized more monsters, more hunters, more secrets than anything we know. I read it as a child… but when I searched for it later, it was gone."

Hyami frowned. "gone?"

"Yes, And there are no warriors in the Kanagawa family to ask about its location." Akihiko's gaze darkened.

Hyami studied him for a moment, then spoke carefully. "You're not just looking for power."

Akihiko chuckled. "No."

She hesitated before asking, "Does this have to do with your sister's illness?"

Akihiko's expression didn't change, but the way his fingers stilled against the table betrayed something deeper.

"…And your father?" she added.

His smirk returned, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "That diary holds answers, Hyami. Answers I need."

Hyami glanced toward the massive doors the generals had just walked through. "Can you trust them?"

Akihiko scoffed. "They only seek power—which makes them predictable." He met her gaze. "I seek something more."

Hyami exhaled and leaned back against the table. "So, what now?"

Akihiko stretched, rolling his shoulders. "Now?" He gave her a knowing smile and turned away.

"I'm going to bed."

Hyami raised an eyebrow. "That's it?"

"Tomorrow's the big day." He glanced over his shoulder, his smirk sharper now. "We'll see how ready they really are."

With that, he walked off into the dimly lit corridors of Kanagawa Castle, leaving Hyami standing in the silence.

Hyami remained in the dimly lit room long after Akihiko had left. The faint hum of the holographic displays and the distant murmurs of the castle staff filled the silence, but her thoughts were elsewhere.

She had known Akihiko Kanagawa since childhood—the prodigy, the youngest business mogul, the face of innovation. Among the Kanagawa lineage, there was always a leader, a warrior, and a businessman. Akihiko had taken the role of the businessman effortlessly.

Or so it seemed.

Something always felt… off.

He never said it outright, but Hyami could see it in the way he worked tirelessly, in the way he deflected certain questions, in the moments when his smile faded just a little too quickly.

Was this truly the life he wanted?

He had wealth, power, and influence—but was he happy?

And more importantly… did he have ambitions she didn't yet know about?