Chapter 13: The Gathering Storm
The gate still pulsed with black-red light.
Its presence was like a heartbeat, thudding quietly in the air around it, sending invisible ripples across the city. Even from blocks away, civilians could feel something was wrong—even if they didn't understand what.
The street had been sealed off. A dozen armed patrols guarded the perimeter. News helicopters circled overhead. Onlookers kept back, murmuring in confusion, unaware they were staring at what might be the beginning of a national crisis.
Inside the cordoned zone, a group of Hunter Association agents stood in a half-circle, watching as a tall man in a lab coat carefully lowered a device in front of the gate.
The unit was silver and thin and was essentially a hybrid scanner-satellite dish. It emitted a pale blue light as it came on.
"Is this the new model?" one of the agents asked.
"Yeah," added another. "Version 2.5—produced in 2024 by Robert Henry. The American."
"Oh, the Mana Strong Reader?"
"Right. It doesn't just display mana levels. It calculates potential gate survivability. Reduced hunter deaths by 80% since launch."
The man slowly nodded, not taking his eyes off the screen.
"Then let's hope it's wrong this time."
The scanner began to beep—quietly at first.
Then louder.
Then quicker.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beeeeeep.
It stopped, suddenly.
The screen briefly flickered.
Then words appeared on the screen:
GATE CLASS: S-RANK (HIGH).
The ensuing silence was stifling.
The wind grew stronger.
One of the agents whispered, "No way…"
A person backed off slowly, eyes wide open.
"There have been just ten S-Rank gates in recorded history Worldwide."
"And all ten ended in disaster..."
"Three nations simply disintegrated because of them…"
One of the older officers went pale. He could barely speak.
"Call the Director. Now."
****
Later That Night – Hunter Association HQ
The building towered like a fortress—contemporary, fortified, and teeming with intensity.
A red alarm light moving along glass walls in the war room pulsed with a slow beat. Dozens of analysts moved swiftly between consoles. Communication channels flashed continually, connecting them to military bases, hunter agencies globally, and crisis task forces.
But the true weight wasn't in the activity.
It was in the order that came next.
"Gather the guilds," said Kim Seok-Jin, President of the Korea Hunter Association.
"There will be a mandatory meeting. We have to decide how to handle this gate before it handles us."
His voice was low and calm, but each word felt like the ticking of a countdown clock.
****
Four Days Later
It had taken time.
Time to analyze the gate. Time to verify it wasn't a false reading. Time to contact those whose strength matched the danger.
But now…
They were all here.
It was in the silence of the large room at the top floor.
The conference room.
Where the real power was concentrated.
The top ten strongest guilds of South Korea.
They seated themselves at a long obsidian table facing off towards the president of the Hunter Association and headmaster of Korea's National Hunter Academy.
The room was cold.
Not in temperature—but in presence.
A kind of cold that came from warriors who had seen death. Men and women who had fought monsters that didn't make it into history books.
The air was tense.
Some wore suits. Others came in battle gear.
Each was deadly in their own way.
At the head of the table, Hunter Association President kim Seok-Jin rolled up his sleeves. His tone was low, tranquil—but beneath every word that emerged from his lips was steel.
"Thank you for coming on such short notice. I wish the circumstances were different."
No one replied. They didn't need to.
Beside him sat the principal of Korea's top hunter academy—an older man in a white robe, his presence quiet but commanding.
President Kim clicked a button, and a large screen behind him lit up into brilliant life with the image of the gate. It pulsed on the screen just as it did in life—slow, steady, dark.
"You've seen the reports," he continued. "High S-Rank. The highest reading we've had in over a decade."
One of the guild leaders leaned forward, keeping his voice low. "Is the rank confirmed?"
"Yes," Kim nodded. "Confirmed by three independent readers. One from the American Hunter Bureau."
A quiet murmur spread around the table.
A woman in a black combat vest leaned forward, her tone sharp.
"What about international support? Have we reached out?"
"We're in talks," Kim replied. "With the JHA and the American Hunter Bureau. But they want more data. No one wants to commit their elites without understanding what's inside."
One of the older men in the room, Iron Moon Guild Master, ranking 6th in the top 10 guilds, folded his arms.
"Four days," he said. "That gate has been there four days. What if there's a break?"
All were quiet again.
Kim nodded.
"That's why you all are here. No politics. That gate has the potential to kill half the nation if there ever is a dungeon breach."
He paused.
"We don't need you to attack it quite yet. But we need you to prepare. We'll put each guild's top hunters all in one big raid group. We will make our attack before the break happens."
"We don't want meaningless deaths."
A voice finally broke the stillness—Choi Hyun-woo, Guild Leader of the Red Ace Guild, ranked 8th nationwide.
"Together?"
The tension in the room tightened like a bowstring.
None of the guild masters consented to this.
But they did not argue.
They all knew the danger of an S-rank gate.
All of them saw what happened in India.
In France.
In Peru.
They had all lost loved ones.
Some had lost entire teams.
Finally, the Academy principal spoke to them, his tone soft yet clear.
"We'll also prepare the academy's most qualified students. If this gate is as dangerous as we think it is, we'll want to have as many skilled hunters as we can get. Including the next generation hunters."
That remark stung more than I anticipated.
Even the hardest faces in the room glanced at each other.
If students had to get involved…
This wasn't just another gate.
It was a war for survival.
But everyone still knew, working together might be far fetched than it's appears.
Kim pressed another button. The screen went black.
He looked around the room one last time.
"Thank you for your time. We'll be in touch with assignments."
No one stood.
They just sat there.
Silent.
Waiting.
The storm was coming.
And none of them knew who would survive it.
To be continued…