Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest

Chapter 527 117.9 - Second Mission

The Mayor's eyes widened in shock as he processed Astron's words, his earlier confidence starting to crumble. "You're lying!" the Mayor shouted, his voice cracking with desperation. "You're just bluffing! You think you can scare me with empty threats? You're finished, Astron!"

As if on cue, the door to the room burst open, and a group of men—tough, armed, and clearly prepared for violence—stormed in. They quickly surrounded Astron, their weapons drawn, their faces set in grim determination. Among them were two individuals whose aura immediately marked them as Awakened of higher ranks.

The Mayor's face twisted into a triumphant sneer as he watched the scene unfold. "See? You're done! There's no way out for you now."

But Astron remained calm, his eyes sweeping over the group that had surrounded him. He let out a quiet sigh, almost as if in disappointment, and shook his head. "It's a pity," he murmured, his voice carrying a note of genuine regret. "I warned you."

Before the Mayor could respond, a sudden, unnatural movement caught his attention. The shadows in the room seemed to writhe and twist, moving of their own accord. They snaked along the floor, climbing the walls, wrapping around Astron-like living tendrils. The men surrounding him hesitated, their weapons raised, unsure of what they were witnessing.

And then, in the blink of an eye, Astron was gone.

The shadows enveloped him completely, and when they dissipated, there was nothing left—no trace of his presence, no sign that he had ever been there. The room fell into an eerie silence, the only sound the heavy breathing of the men who had come to apprehend him.

The Mayor's face drained of color as he stared at the empty space where Astron had stood just moments before. "What... what just happened?" he stammered, his voice trembling with disbelief.

One of the Awakened men, his face pale, stepped forward and began to examine the area where Astron had vanished, but there was nothing to find. No footprints, no residual energy—just empty air.

"He's gone," the man muttered, shaking his head in bewilderment. "He just... disappeared."

The Mayor's triumphant expression twisted into one of fear and confusion. He had believed he had Astron cornered, that his plan had been foolproof. But now, with Astron vanished and his threats hanging in the air, the Mayor realized he had severely underestimated the man.

The room was heavy with tension as the Mayor's men exchanged uneasy glances, unsure of what to do next. The Mayor, for the first time, was at a loss for words. The reality of the situation was setting in—he was no longer in control, and the consequences of his actions were beginning to close in around him.

Celia, who had been silent throughout the entire ordeal, finally found her voice. "Father..." she whispered her tone a mix of fear and disbelief. "Wh-what do we do now?"

The Mayor's eyes darted around the room, searching for answers, for a way out of the nightmare that was rapidly unfolding. But there was nothing—just the cold, hard truth that Astron had left behind.

Outside, the town of Shange remained oblivious to the events that had just transpired within the Mayor's office. But inside, the seeds of reckoning had been planted, and it was only a matter of time before they bore fruit.

*******

As I slipped through the shadows, making my way to a safe distance from the Mayor's office, I let my mind replay the sequence of events that had led me to this point. Everything had started to come together when I found that old shed on the outskirts of town—the shed that had once been Abigail Carpenter's refuge.

The moment I stepped inside, I could tell that this place had housed someone for a significant period of time. The remnants of a small bed, the scattered clothes—it all painted a picture of a young girl who had lived here, hidden away from the world.

But there was something else, something more unsettling, that caught my attention.

The shed hadn't just housed Abigail. There were traces of others as well—multiple presences, though faded with time, still left behind faint imprints that my [Eyes] could detect.

It was as if different energies had clashed and intertwined within that small space, leaving a residual aura that hinted at the darkness that had transpired there.

But the real breakthrough came when I observed the couple during my reconnaissance of the town. The energy I felt in that moment wasn't just the natural aura of life; it was something far more potent and disturbing. It reminded me of the energy I'd encountered in the shed, but with a twisted edge, as if it had been tainted by strong, negative emotions.

'Similar to Sylvie's, yet completely different,' I had thought at the time.

The energy was a clue—an echo of something terrible that had happened, a spiritual residue left behind by a soul that had suffered greatly.

One can easily consider Sylvie's energy associated with [First Lord]. Her trait is [First Lord's Authority].

It is Divine Power.

A power that is different from the normal mana, something that is superior.

But then, what would the fact that this energy being similar to hers would mean?

That would mean something simple.

It is the reverse of Divine Power.

If the divine Power is the power of the heavens, this energy would mean the energy of the underworld—the opposite of the heavens.

The energy of abyss, the energy of death.

It was then that I realized what I was dealing with Lingering Resonance, the phenomenon where a person's intense emotions and unresolved trauma bind them to the physical world, even after death.

The diary was the final piece of the puzzle. Abigail Carpenter's words, though simple and childlike, painted a vivid picture of her life before everything fell apart. The entries were full of love for her parents and her daily life.

It was not complex as she was just a countryside girl and she had just written a diary to improve her writing. Thus, it was not long and detailed, but it is enough if you know how to read.

Though she didn't explicitly write about her confinement or the torment she endured, the evidence was there in the way she described how she felt when she and her family were ostracized by the town.

Since she had written about her feelings in the diary of that time, I came to know that such a thing transpired.

And the fact that there were no people named Carpenters meant that the family was long gone.

It wasn't hard to deduce what had happened to her, especially when I combined it with the other clues I had gathered.

As I pieced it all together, everything made sense: Abigail had been taken, confined, and ultimately broken by the cruelty of those who believed the lies spread about her. Her despair, her fear, her overwhelming sense of betrayal—all of it had bound her spirit to this place, creating the very blight that now threatened to consume Shange Town.

But it wasn't just the blight that had formed; there was also a sense of vengeance, an echo of the wrongs done to her that still lingered in the town.

This wasn't just about the land dying; it was about a spirit unable to move on, still bound by the horrors of the past.

'The dead who is bound by the emotions.'

Oddly similar to the case in the Mana Stone Mine.

Those who are wronged made such events happen.

From my vantage point on the roof of the highest building in Shange Town, I gazed down at the darkened landscape below.

The town was still, bathed in the light of the sun. The fields, once fertile and vibrant, were now lifeless, their soil tainted by the lingering resonance of Abigail Carpenter's pain. The air was thick with a sense of unease as if the town itself was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.

'This town deserves whatever is happening to it,' I thought, my gaze cold as I observed the streets below.

The truth was clear: the people of Shange Town had allowed this tragedy to unfold, had turned a blind eye to the suffering of a young girl, and were now reaping the consequences of their actions.

I could see a group of young people walking down one of the streets, their laughter echoing faintly in the night air. They appeared carefree, but I knew better. I could sense the taint on them, the dark energy that clung to their auras like a shroud.

These were the same young people who had likely participated in the act of cruelty that had led to Abigail's torment. Whether they had been directly involved or simply complicit through their silence, they were all guilty in some way.

'They're part of it.'

It was hard to keep the anger to myself. n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

Because it reminded me of that time.

That time when she had also lost her life like this, at the hands of those.

'The emotions you felt…..Was it similar to this girl?' Aren't the feelings of fear that she must have experienced similar?

It must be. And seeing that, how can I just turn a blind eye to that and act like it had never happened?

With a measured breath, I pulled out my smartwatch and opened a secure channel to the headquarters. My fingers moved quickly as I typed out the message, my mind already calculating the next steps.

TO: HQ

FROM: Astron Natusalune

SUBJECT: Shange Town Investigation Completion

Investigation complete.

Summary: The source of the blight in Shange Town has been identified as a lingering resonance caused by the spirit of Abigail Carpenter, a young girl who suffered extreme torment and was bound to the land by her unresolved trauma. The blight is not natural but a manifestation of her suffering, which has poisoned the soil and disrupted the town's livelihood.

Recommendations: Due to the nature of the curse, direct intervention may be required to either appease the spirit or neutralize the lingering energy. The town itself is complicit in the events that led to this situation. Further action may be necessary to address the root cause and prevent similar occurrences in the future.

The details are in the report, which is included in the attachments.

Awaiting further instructions.

Astron Natusalune

I sent the message, knowing that my report would trigger a response from the higher-ups. This mission had been a test—a way to gauge how I would handle a situation where the lines between right and wrong were blurred, where the true enemy wasn't just a physical threat but something far more insidious.

'But first and foremost, let me visit you first.' With that thought, I slowly moved, with my presence erased. It was the time to visit the girl's cemetery.