Inside the Dungeon…
The atmosphere inside the throne hall shifted from chaos to awe.
Ethan returned to stand casually beside Cha Hae-In and the recovering Son Kihoon, the intense, crushing aura of Genesis Power receding but leaving a lingering dread in the air.
The silence among the Hunters—Kihoon, Jung Jinho, and the rest of the Strike Team—was absolute.
The man who appeared so casual — who walked in wearing normal clothes — had frozen every living being in place with nothing but his aura.
They had been paralyzed, rendered completely helpless by an unseen force, while the powerful Orc Shaman foe was effortlessly dispatched through a stone wall.
Their collective internal assessment was chillingly unanimous: National-Level Hunter.
Sung Jin-woo was equally stunned, though he showed no outward reaction. But his focus was less on fear and more on the impossible power gap.
He looked at the two women who were now engaging his Shadow Army and the Orcs, then at the man who was now leisurely taking photos of the battle with a slight, proprietary smile.
The memory of Ethan's aura crashing down earlier flashed in his mind.
He felt like he was back in front of the god statue — that same crushing pressure — except this time it was stronger… deeper… and far more terrifying.
'That pressure…' Jin-woo thought, flexing his fingers that still remembered the momentary paralysis. 'It was like standing before the Statue of God again, but magnified tenfold. I couldn't move a finger. He could kill me without lifting an eyebrow.'
The reality hit Jin-woo like a thunderbolt: his current strength, the strength that made him one of the powerful Hunter in Korea, was merely a speck compared to the casual display of this Ethan Carter. It was a wake-up call, a harsh jolt of determination. He had to clear the Demon Castle, and he had to get stronger, faster.
While Jin-woo processed this terrifying new benchmark, the battle raged. Ethan gave a proud nod to his wives.
The tension in his shoulders eased, though only slightly. He wasn't angry without cause—far from it.
The moment he sensed multiple curse spells being woven and directed toward Anna, something primal surged up inside him. His body reacted before his mind had time to catch up, instincts roaring to protect what was his. The orc shaman had been preparing layered curses, strong enough to cripple most A-Rank hunters by this world's standards.
Anna could've handled it—he knew that.
Her clothes were fortified with heavy enchantments: curse resistance, magic nullification, regeneration boosters. On top of that, she possessed Logan and Lobo's healing factors and a Viltrumite physique. Logically, she'd walk away without a scratch.
But logic meant very little when it came to the people he loved.
Even back in the Marvel universe, when they sparred with sorcerers in Kamar-Taj to gain experience, none of their curses ever reached this level. Those were child's play compared to the raw, malicious spellwork aimed at Anna now.
And this was the first time anyone had dared to use powerful curses on his women.
It triggered something territorial... Protective... Too protective, maybe.
He sighed, a rueful smile tugging at his lips.
'So this is love… even knowing they can tank it, the thought of them being hurt is still unacceptable.'
The orc probably realized how close it had come to ceasing to exist. One more heartbeat and Ethan might've erased it from the dungeon without a second thought.
He inhaled and exhaled.
He needed to stay composed—not for himself, but for his girls. They needed room to grow, to fight, to stand on their own without him annihilating every threat first.
"Get a hold of yourself, Ethan," he told himself firmly. "Overprotective acts are cute in stories… but in reality, they become a weakness."
"Now, go enjoy your action, my loves," Ethan murmured before adjusting the camera setting on his phone.
.
.
.
Anna Marie Carter was a force of pure, devastating momentum. She had strength, speed, flight and durability of an S-Rank and she unleashed it with joyous, reckless abandon.
She was a blur of green and yellow, moving so fast that the Orcs only saw the immediate, catastrophic consequences of her passing.
She fought like a charging bull, driven by pure momentum and did not dodge.
A heavy iron mace swung by a massive Elite Orc merely did anything against her shoulder before the Orc's hands went numb.
"Not bad, fellas, but you'll need more than that to make a scratch!" Anna yelled before laughing as she drove a powerful uppercut that sent an Orc Warrior flying forty feet straight up into the cave ceiling.
The Orc army attacks—the heavy cleaves of axes, the crude magic bolts, the rapid slashes of swords—simply bounced and shattered off her durability.
She plunged into the densest parts of the horde. Each punch was a kinetic explosion; Orc Warriors, who typically required multiple A-Rank strikes, were sent flying across the throne room with a single hit, their bodies disintegrating on impact. She didn't bother to strategize individual kills; she simply cleared wide, devastating swathes of the battlefield by charging straight through them.
In one fluid motion, she caught two simultaneous axe-swings, twisted her body to use their own momentum against them, and unleashed a massive Energy Punch that created a localized shockwave, sweeping three rows of Orcs off their feet and slamming them into the far wall. Her combat was raw, physical, and utterly destructive, leaving trails of stunned and decimated Orcs in her wake.
Meanwhile, Jean Grey-Carter operated with majestic, focused control. Having replaced her elegant linen dress with her combat attire—a deep sapphire blue jumpsuit featuring bold, high yellow/gold shoulder pads, matching boots, gloves, and a flowing sash—she floated several feet above the chaos.
Jean's eyes glowed with soft, concentrated orange energy. She wasn't relying solely on raw power, but on precision. She summoned dozens of sharp, conical arrows of condensed Phoenix fire, holding them suspended in the air.
With a flick of her mind, the psychic energy extended, ensnaring entire sections of the Orc army with unbreakable Telekinetic Bonds. The Orcs—including the larger Elites—found themselves suddenly glued to the floor, unable to move their limbs or dodge the incoming attack.
"If you can't run," Jean's voice echoed gently in their minds, "then stand still."
The phoneix fire rained down—not a massive, indiscriminate explosion, but a localized torrent of highly focused heat that vaporized armor and flesh in seconds, leaving clean, smoking patches in the crowded room.
She used her telekinesis as a surgical tool, lifting entire rows of Orcs high into the air, spinning them into chaotic, disoriented masses, and then crushing them with invisible, crushing force against the ceiling.
The contrast between her elegant, floating form and the utter devastation she wrought was horrifying to behold.
Meanwhile, Jin-woo's Shadow Army—Igris, Iron, and Tank—fought admirably alongside them.
Igris swung his flaming sword, cleaving orcs like wheat.
Iron bulldozed through lines of warriors, shield smashing bodies.
Tank roared, crushing orcs beneath his massive paws.
Hundreds of shadows surged behind them — glowing purple under Monarch Domain, cutting, stabbing, ripping through the orc bodies relentlessly.
But even the shadows seemed to pale in comparison to the casual, terrifying elegance of the Carter wives' combat prowess.
Anna's laughter echoed, wild and excited.
Jean floated with regal calm — her flames dancing like a goddess.
Ethan simply watched with a faint, possessive pride in his eyes.
"See, Ms. Cha?" Ethan smirked, giving Hae-In a playful wink before turning his attention to the battlefield.
Jean raised her hand with effortless grace, her eyes gleaming. A dozen Orc corpses lifted off the ground like weightless puppets—then with a flick of her fingers, she hurled them down the distant tunnel, clearing the area around the frontline in an instant.
On the other side, Anna stepped forward. One punch—just one—and a violent shockwave erupted from her fist, ripping through the stone floor. Three Orcs flew like broken dolls, crashing into the wall with thunderous cracks.
Ethan's voice held a mix of awe and pride. "Magnificent, aren't they?" He said softly, admiration burning in his eyes as his wives carved through the horde like goddesses of war.
Hae-In could only stare. Her earlier worry about the A-Rank dungeon was completely gone, replaced by the reality that this was less a raid and more a demonstration of power.
Jin-woo, meanwhile, had reached his critical breaking point. The two women were clearing the Orc army faster than his entire Shadow Army combined. His growth felt agonizingly slow.
He looked back at the broken wall where Kargalgan lay moaning, nursing a concussion and several broken ribs from Ethan's single punch. The Orc Shaman, terrified, was trying to crawl away.
Jin-woo knew his role had been stolen, but the underlying challenge remained. He was determined to prove his worth, not to the Carters, but to himself. He met Kargalgan's frightened eyes.
"I was planning to test my strength on you a little longer," Jin-woo said in a cold and sharp tone, "but it seems I'm short on time. Come on, Shaman—let's end this."
With a surge of his own mana, Jin-woo activated a skill, vanishing instantly, and leaped through the hole in the wall, engaging the terrified High Orc Shaman in the final, brutal duel.
'Go get him, Jinwoo!' Ethan cheered internally before snapping a quick photo of Jin-woo mid-jump. 'That's my favourite protagonist!'
Meanwhile, the surviving members of the Second Strike Team—Son Kihoon, Jung Jinho, and the others—stood paralyzed near the entrance, clustered around Vice Guild Master Cha Hae-In and the enigmatic Ethan Carter. They were watching a massacre.
Son Kihoon stared wide-eyed as Anna—a vibrant blur of green and yellow—plowed through the Orc lines like a hyper-speed bulldozer.
'This isn't fighting… this is farming,' Kihoon thought, his A-Rank pride utterly demolished. He was supposed to be the pillar of defense, yet here was a woman who didn't even bother to dodge, absorbing blows that would shatter his shield and returning them tenfold.
Jung Jinho, the B-Rank Mage, watched as Jean commanded the sky above the battle. 'She didn't cast fireballs; she willed fire into existence and held hundreds of enemies captive with an unseen grip. She's a sorceress of pure, conceptual power.'
Han Jaehyuk swallowed hard. 'I thought we were going to die when we walked in here. But now… seeing them… there's hope. They make S-ranks look like toys.'
Lee Seokgyu gripped his sword tightly. 'If this is strength… then what have we been doing with our lives?'
Park Heesung's eyes darted to Ethan. 'And that man… just casually taking pictures? What kind of monster does that?'
Hwang Donguk let out a shaky breath. 'I don't know if I should be terrified or grateful. Maybe both.'
A few minutes prior, they had been facing certain death. Now, they were spectators to a ballet of destruction, their hope rekindled but mixed with profound terror at the limitless power displayed by the two women.
Kihoon slowly turned to Hae-In. "Vice President... who exactly are they? I know you said they are known to the Chairman, but their power... it's beyond belief."
Hae-In sighed before watching Ethan. The man was laughing softly, perfectly framed in a chaotic scene of death and fire, holding his camera up like a proud husband at a school recital.
"As I mentioned before… they're associated with Chairman Go. That is all I'm allowed to say."
She paused — her gaze shifting to where Jinwoo clashed with the orc shaman. Sparks burst, mana roared, and Jinwoo pushed forward like a shadow of death.
"But about him…" Her eyes locked onto Jinwoo, pupils narrowing with sharp curiosity.
"I'm not sure. He's… different."
Something about Jinwoo tugged at her instincts — a strange pull, like fate whispering. A feeling she couldn't ignore.
Just as the last major cluster of Orcs dissolved under Jean's telekinetic pressure, a contingent of elite Association Hunters poured through the Gate, led by Woo Jin-Chul. He was ready for a full-scale catastrophe, prepared to deploy more tactical assets he possessed.
Instead, he was met with silence, the overwhelming smell of ash, and a scene of complete carnage.
"What... in the world... is going on here?" Jin-Chul demanded, his eyes darting between the Shadow Soldiers, the surviving members of the Strike Team, and the two women—now walking back to their smiling husband—who had just wiped out an army.
He had expected some struggle, perhaps Ethan and his wives assisting Hae-In and Jin-woo in a coordinated takedown of the Shaman. He certainly did not expect to find Ethan Carter acting like a proud tourist, happily reviewing his photos.
One of the Association agents behind Jin-Chul whispered, "Director, are we even needed?"
Jinchul opened his mouth but no words came out.
He didn't have an answer. The reality of Ethan Carter was stranger and more powerful than he could have imagined.
The final seconds of the raid played out. From the smoke-filled adjoining room, a heavy, scraping sound was heard.
Sung Jin-woo stepped back into the throne room, Kargalgan's body crumpled behind him. He stood over the corpse, the black smoke swirling around his boots. His expression was serious, his eyes burning with the command of his power.
He looked at the fallen Shaman and uttered the single, powerful word. "Arise."
A pillar of dense, black smoke erupted from the corpse, coalescing into the form of the High Orc Shaman, now a Shadow Soldier with glowing red eyes. The new shadow knelt before its master.
Hae-In instinctively moved toward Jin-woo, drawn by the raw spectacle and the overwhelming mana signature of the Shadow Monarch.
Jean and Anna, having finished their clean-up, came to stand beside Ethan.
"Great work, ladies," Ethan murmured before kissing Anna on the forehead and squeezing Jean's hand.
Then Ethan's smile was gone, replaced by a gaze of profound intellectual curiosity. His eyes glowed a faint, internal blue as he analyzed the energy transfer.
'Shadow Extraction… the Authority of Death and Command over the Shadow Domain,' Ethan thought, fascinated. 'It is a concept rooted in the transfer of souls and binding them to the caster's will.'
He acknowledged that this skill was unsuitable for his own personality—he preferred direct engagement, like Goku or Saitama—but the potential for his wives was enormous.
'I may not be the Monarch of Death, but I have Authority over Creation, Destruction, and Rebirth. And more importantly, Death herself is my girlfriend.' Ethan mentally grinned. 'If I can dissect the fundamental conceptual mechanics behind this Shadow Extraction, I can undoubtedly replicate a similar, perhaps even superior, power for my girls. Imagine a Construct that binds the consciousness to a perpetual body, or even a psychic avatar. It's simply a matter of reverse-engineering the soul binding.'
This was not just about power; it was about the mechanics of universal laws, and Ethan was determined to master this new piece of power slowly.
Slowly everyone gathered together and before the awe-struck Strike Team could bombard Jin-woo with questions, Jin-Chul stepped forward, his face returning to its hardened, authoritative mask.
"Everyone! Listen closely!" Jin-Chul's voice cut through the silence. "This entire operation is now classified information. The unexpected guests—Mr. and Mrs. Carter—are deep cover assets of the Association and the Chairman. Their identities, powers, and presence here are a national secret."
He swept his gaze over the Strike Team. "The level of power you witnessed is necessary for maintaining stability in this country. The circumstances surrounding Mr. Sung's... abilities... are also a protected secret of the Association. Both matters will be revealed when appropriate. Until then, anyone who speaks of this—to family, friends, media, or rival guilds—will face immediate, maximum penalty for endangering national security."
The weight of the threat, coming from the leader of the Hunters Monitoring Division, settled heavily on the injured Hunters. They understood.
Son Kihoon, however, managed to step forward and bow deeply. "Mr. Carter, Mrs. Carters, and Mr. Sung. We owe you our lives. Thank you."
Ethan simply waved his hand, his easy smile returning as he pocketed his phone. "Think nothing of it, Mr. Kihoon. Just the cost of having two wives who enjoy a bit of action during their travels. If you'll excuse us, my wives and I have a date for a late lunch."
'And I need to start writing up the notes on that 'Arise' spell.'
...
The aftermath of the B-Rank Gate incident was handled with the cold efficiency of a state secret. Woo Jin-Chul ensured the surviving members of the Strike Team signed the most restrictive non-disclosure agreements imaginable, backed by the implicit threat of Association monitoring. The true story of how two women in bizarre costumes and an invisible army destroyed a high-level Orc horde vanished from the records.
As for the newly reawaked Hunter, Sung Jin-woo, his rank swiftly reassessed, and he was officially declared Korea's 10th S-Rank Hunter. He then promptly vanished from public view, retreating into the dungeon to pursue his own relentless path of growth.
Ethan Carter, meanwhile, was wholly focused on his true objective.
"Well, that was certainly a stimulating appetizer," Ethan commented to his wives later that evening, holding up a glass of imported champagne. "But I believe the main course—the actual honeymoon—can now begin."
Chairman Go Gun-Hee kept his word. Within twenty-four hours, the trio received impeccable, high-security False Identities, complete with Korean residency and the guarantee of total privacy.
The initial detail of Association agents assigned to shadow them was pulled back after two days. The reports consistently showed the couple doing nothing more alarming than holding hands and eating street food.
The Carters then began their immersive tour of South Korea.
It seemed that even after the appearance of Gates and Hunters, Korea had managed to preserve its culture at its core. Their traditions still breathed through the chaos of this new world—untouched, alive, stubbornly enduring.
That was something worth admiring.
They spent the afternoon at the towering Namsan Seoul Tower—not to admire the cityscape, but to place a padlock among thousands left by lovers before them. Jean lifted the lock, engraved with their three names, clicked it into place on the railing, and smiled softly.
"A beautiful sentiment, darling," Anna said before leaning into Ethan. "But I think our bond is slightly stronger than this lock."
"Perhaps," Ethan conceded, "but this is traditional."
Later they walked the ancient, majestic grounds of Gyeongbokgung Palace, soaking in the history. Ethan, dressed in a borrowed hanbok, amused onlookers with his attempts at reciting Korean poetry, while Jean and Anna simply enjoyed the peace, the sheer, beautiful ordinariness of a world filled with Gates and Hunters.
One day, they dove into the bustling, vibrant atmosphere of the Gwangjang Market, indulging in bindaetteok and spicy rice cakes. Anna, whose speed let her sample every stall simultaneously, kept Ethan and Jean supplied with snacks, claiming she was performing "culinary scouting."
Cha Hae-In never joined them. She was, as she admitted to herself, intensely curious about Ethan's world and his power, but she was acutely aware of her position. To intrude on their 'honeymoon' would be unprofessional and deeply uncomfortable.
For several days, there was only laughter, quiet intimacy, and exploration.
A few days later...
It was late, approaching 1:00 AM on the final night of their first week.
Jean and Anna were soundly asleep in the master bedroom of their Association-secured penthouse, their forms silhouetted softly by the moonlight.
Ethan stood alone on the expansive, glassed-in balcony, gazing out over the glittering tapestry of Seoul. The city was a vast, hypnotic organism of light.
He was silent and simply a man appreciating a moment of perfect calm.
"A beautiful night, isn't it?" Ethan said softly, his voice barely disturbing the silence. He didn't move, his eyes fixed on the moon hanging high above the city's electric glow.
He slowly turned his head, not toward the city, but toward a specific landmark: a massive, dark skyscraper standing about five kilometers away. Perched on its highest spire, perfectly still against the backdrop of the night sky, was a shadowy figure.
The figure was cloaked, almost absorbed by the shadows of the building, yet clearly visible to Ethan's enhanced senses. It had been watching him for the last ten minutes.
Ethan lifted his hand to the figure, giving a slow, deliberate wave.
"You know," Ethan called out, voice carried effortlessly across the kilometers with a light resonance spell, "you're not nearly as subtle as you think you are. Or maybe you wanted to be noticed—just enough for me to know someone was watching."
He dropped his hand, a predatory grin curving his lips.
"Since you're already here, why don't you step out properly?" he called, voice smooth and edged with challenge. "No point lurking when we both know you're there. Come—let's have a little chat about you… and your bosses."