Apocalypse: becoming the hidden Ruler[English]

Back in his apartment, Axel opened the Awakened Forum. A newly trending post caught his attention.

“Abyss Opens—Teammate Recruitment Now Live!”

Abyss—once restricted to Level Four Awakened—was now open to Level Five participants.

Scrolling further, Axel learned that Abyss had undergone drastic changes. Two weeks earlier, official testing showed that the killing intent density inside had dropped, and the unstable spatial distortions were settling.

After deliberation between authorities and major organizations, Abyss was officially opened to the public. Applications could be submitted through designated channels.

“Is this related to Mr. Victor…?” Axel rubbed his temples. “When is he coming out?”

If Victor emerged from Abyss, Axel would finally have a true pillar behind him.

Just as Axel was about to shut down the computer and resume cultivation, the page refreshed.

A blood-red headline appeared.

“A-Rank Hunter Team ‘Reaper’ Ambushed by Saints—All Six Members Killed. Vice-Captain Vlad Missing.”

Axel exhaled slowly. He steadied his breathing and returned to cultivation.

.......

In the old Dune Mansion, moonlight filtered through broken windows.

A girl stood silently before a mirror.

Purplish-red veins traced strange patterns across her skin like living runes. Her limbs were long and graceful, her posture calm, her presence eerily composed.

Annabelle exhaled softly and opened her eyes.

She was taller than before. The traces of childhood had faded, replaced by something sharper—more restrained.

“Thirteen… or fourteen?” she murmured, sitting on the sofa and opening the forum on her laptop.

The Saints…

She already knew Axel had stayed in Everton to avoid becoming their prey.

“My brother really is something,” she said with a faint smile.

Her fingers moved lightly across the keyboard.

“Abyss…” she whispered. “With so many Awakened going in… maybe many won’t come back.”

A sudden beep echoed outside, cutting through the quiet night.

“Who’s there?” Annabelle asked softly as she stepped into the yard.

A slightly chubby boy in designer clothes had climbed over the low fence without invitation. He looked to be in his early ten, a couple of years older than her, his posture casual but his eyes sharp.

“We meet again,” he said with a grin. “So you really do live here. I came by hoping we could… get to know each other.”

“It’s you.” Annabelle kept her polite smile, letting out a faint sigh.

She remembered him clearly. Just a few days ago, she’d run into him downtown, a tall bodyguard hovering nearby. He’d carried himself like someone born into power—probably the spoiled son of a senior official. He’d tried to strike up a conversation then, but she’d brushed him off. She hadn’t expected him to show up here so soon.

Now, catching the unmistakable hunger in his gaze, Annabelle’s smile softened, almost sweet.

“You remember me?” he said eagerly. “I’m Robert. And you are?”

“Annabelle.” Her voice was gentle, her expression unreadable. “Did you come alone?”

“Yes.” His breathing grew uneven. “Is anyone else home?”

Annabelle lifted her eyes and casually glanced toward the street. Several security cameras watched the quiet neighborhood, their red lights blinking in the dark.

“No,” she said lightly. “Would you like to come in and sit for a while?”

Robert swallowed hard, his pupils widening as he nodded. “Sure.”

Inside, he took a quick look around and relaxed. The place was modest—nothing that suggested money or influence.

He chuckled under his breath and leaned closer. “You’re not exactly well-off, are you? If you could… meet a few of my requests, I might be able to help you.”

“Sorry, I don’t need it.” Annabelle stepped back, putting distance between them. “Don’t bother me again.”

Robert froze.

Her attitude was nothing like it had been in the yard. The sudden contrast ignited something ugly in him, a flicker of ferocity flashing across his face.

“I’m already inside,” he said through clenched teeth. “What right do you have to say no?”

Annabelle looked unreal up close—pure, delicate features wrapped in an eerie, untouchable calm.

Robert lunged.

The next instant, something slammed into the back of his head. His vision went black, and he collapsed without a sound.

“…What now?”

Annabelle stared at Robert’s crumpled body on the floor. She calmly brewed herself a cup of tea, then sat on the sofa, deep in thought.

Robert came from a powerful family. Though he hadn’t Awakened yet, his Force was already impressive. She was younger than him by several years; logically, she shouldn’t have stood a chance. Even if she called the police, there would be no way to explain what had happened. And if Robert’s family refused to let it go, she would be the one in serious trouble.

“Huh?”

Annabelle suddenly noticed something was wrong.

He wasn’t breathing.

“…Dead?”

“So weak.”

She stood up, her expression utterly blank, and dialed a number.

“What is it?” A deep, calm voice answered.

“I ran into a little trouble.”

There was a long pause. “You couldn’t handle it yourself?”

“Yes.”

“…Alright. Wait for me.”

After hanging up, Annabelle stared at Robert’s corpse. A faint red glow flickered in her eyes.

A thin red mist seeped out of Robert’s body, drawn by an invisible force. It drifted toward her, merging into her form. Her presence seemed to sharpen, becoming even more striking—almost radiant.

“…Who exactly is he?”

The image of the bronze-masked man surfaced in her mind. He had never shown any obvious ill intent toward her. At the very least, he hadn’t tried to hurt her. That was why she’d lowered her guard around him.

Twenty minutes later, Annabelle didn’t hear the door open—but somehow, she knew he was there.

The bronze-masked man was already squatting beside Robert’s body, examining it.

“You made a mess,” he said flatly.

“Yes. I didn’t think he’d die so easily.”

He shook his head. “It’s not a big deal. Do this later—”

......

The door suddenly burst open.

Annabelle stumbled out, her clothes torn and disheveled. Her face was twisted in panic, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Don’t—don’t do this! What are you doing?!”

She tripped and fell backward.

Robert—who should have been dead—suddenly lunged at her, claws outstretched.

“Swoosh!”

His foot caught on something invisible. He staggered forward and slammed headfirst into a jagged granite rock jutting from the ground.

His body twitched twice.

Then went completely still.

Gasping for breath, Annabelle scrambled back into the room. The moment the door closed behind her, the terror vanished from her face as if it had never existed.

She calmly straightened her clothes and turned to look at the bronze-masked man.

He placed a strange stone on the exact spot where Robert had died, then rose to his feet. “That’ll keep the Undead Guide from detecting anything.”

Earlier, with a flick of his wrist, spoons, metal chopsticks, and other small objects had flown through the air, embedding themselves inside Robert’s clothes. Like invisible strings, they’d forced his body to move exactly as commanded.

Now, as Robert lay motionless, the metal objects silently returned to their original places, leaving no trace behind.

What kind of technique is that? Annabelle thought.

If he’d wanted her dead, it would’ve been effortless.

“Is that really enough?” she asked. “If I call the police, won’t they question me?”

The bronze-masked man put away his phone. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. From now on, whenever you’re questioned, mention your brother first. His name. His background.”

“If they look into who your brother is…” His tone was calm, absolute. “No one will dare touch you.”

At the mention of Axel, Annabelle’s expression softened noticeably.

“My brother really is amazing,” she murmured.

Beneath the mask, the man’s face twitched slightly.

“To avoid further trouble,” he said, taking out a small sword and handing it to her, “keep this on you at all times. It interferes with the mental detection of ordinary Awakened. It’ll buy you time.”

“I’m busy,” he added. “I can’t show up every time like I did today. Don’t act recklessly.”

Annabelle knew he was about to disappear again.

She stood up, gripping the small sword tightly. “Thank you.”