Solo Raid Protocol
Chapter 21: Solo Raid Protocol
The dungeon door hissed shut behind him. No backup. No exit. Just the dark—and whatever waited inside.
Ryo Kazen stood at the edge of the glowing rift, his breath visible in the chilled air. The portal behind him fizzled and snapped as it sealed shut. No safety net. No second chance. Just him, the dungeon, and whatever unknown horrors lay ahead.
The Solo Raid Protocol had been activated.
"Protocol: Override authentication accepted," the mechanical whisper echoed in his mind. "Rank override in effect. Welcome, Executor."
Ryo exhaled slowly and drew his twin blades—one forged in lightsteel, the other dripping with shadows like oil in water. His heart pounded, but it wasn't fear—it was anticipation.
For the first time, he wasn't just surviving.
He was hunting.
The dungeon interior was unlike any he'd ever seen. No mossy stone walls or flickering torches. This was different. Organic. Alive.
The walls pulsated like muscle, a dark crimson hue stretching and twitching with every step he took. The air stunk of blood and ozone. He wasn't just walking into a battle—he was stepping inside something's stomach.
"Warning: Dungeon ecosystem is semi-sentient. Threat level unstable. Engaging adaptive learning protocol."
He smirked. "Good. I needed a challenge."
Fifteen minutes in, the first threat arrived.
A low gurgling echoed through the hallway. Shapes emerged from the walls—glitching shadows with no faces, just gaping mouths and shifting limbs.
Shadow Phages.
According to the Protocol interface, they didn't feed on flesh or mana.
They fed on memory.
The first one lunged, and Ryo vanished.
"Echo Step."
His body dissolved into shadow and flickered behind the creature. Before it could adjust, he plunged both blades into its torso. The monster let out a digital shriek, bursting into fragmented data that scattered into the air.
Another came from his right. This one made it closer. Its hand brushed against his shoulder—and for a second, his vision blurred.
A flash of rain.
Aya laughing.
Then nothing.
He staggered. "You took that memory?"
He didn't wait for an answer. Shadows coiled around his feet like a living tide, and his voice dropped to a cold murmur.
"Let me take something from you."
"Phantom Recall."
From the darkness, a shadowy version of the last phage reappeared—a puppet mimicking its attack pattern.
The real one turned to face it, confused.
Ryo struck while its back was turned, severing its head with one clean slice.
Four more came.
He danced through them, moving like liquid night. The shadows whispered to him, alerting him to threats, showing cracks in the monsters' defenses. It wasn't even a fight anymore.
It was a performance.
By the time he reached the mid-tier zone, Ryo was panting, shirt torn, and bleeding from his side—but he was smiling.
Then everything went silent.
The hallway ended in a massive cathedral-like chamber. At the center hovered a shifting, mirror-like creature. It had no features—just a humanoid silhouette made of reflective liquid, constantly morphing.
"Mirror Wraith," the Protocol whispered. "Classification: Adaptive Boss. Risk level: Extreme."
The creature turned toward him—and its form solidified into a perfect copy of Ryo.
Same weapons. Same stance. Same intensity in its mismatched eyes.
It smirked.
So did he.
They clashed instantly.
Blade met blade in a whirl of sparks and steel. Ryo ducked, twisted, shadow-stepped behind the doppelganger—only for it to mimic the move a fraction of a second faster.
His blade sliced through nothing.
The Mirror Wraith struck him in the gut and sent him flying into a pillar.
He coughed blood, pain screaming through his ribs.
"Analysis: Enemy mirrors all observed movements. Shadow skills included."
"No crap," he muttered, wiping blood from his lip. "But does it know how to improvise?"
He charged again—but this time, he did something reckless.
He activated Phantom Recall on himself.
A shadow version of him split off mid-stride and slashed wide. The Wraith turned to parry the copy—only for Ryo to dive under it and slam a hidden Protocol command into its chest:
"Command Injection: Null Skill Loop."
The glitch triggered immediately.
The Wraith copied the command—and froze, convulsing violently as corrupted code ran rampant through its system. Its mirrored form flickered, cracked, and shattered like glass under pressure.
Chunks of it floated upward, dissolving into bits of light.
At the center, something pulsed—its core.
Ryo limped forward and reached into the wreckage. When he touched it, his system flared.
"New Ability Acquired: Protocol Mirror (Unstable). One-use skill reflection. Instability chance: 42%."
"I'll take it," he muttered. "Anything's better than dying."
He slid the core into his Protocol inventory, breathing hard.
That's when he felt it.
The eyes watching him.
He stepped out of the dungeon's rift into moonlight, half-conscious and coated in dirt and blood. The city skyline shimmered in the distance, calm and ignorant.
Behind him, the rift closed with a sharp snap.
"Status report," he whispered.
"Solo Raid Complete. Clearance Level Increased. Notoriety: +11%. Shadow Core Activity: Rising."
"Good."
He turned—and froze.
On the rooftop across from the street, silhouetted by the pale light, stood a tall figure cloaked in black. The figure raised a communication device to its lips.
"Target survived. Phase Two begins now."
And then, the figure was gone.
Ryo narrowed his eyes.
"Let them come," he said, his voice a low growl. "I'm just getting started."
End of Chapter 21