The silence between Orpheus and K was as thick as the mist that sometimes hung over the Red Continent. They walked side by side, yet separated by an invisible chasm that had formed the moment Orpheus had spoken those fateful words: "He's known as the Hunter of the Black Eyes."
K still trembled slightly, though she tried to hide it. Her ruby-red eyes moved constantly, scanning the shadows between the towering trees—not only for whatever danger they might hide, but as if she expected Zack to appear at any moment and silence her for good. After all, she now knew too much.
Orpheus noticed her unease, but mistook it for exhaustion after the fight with the creature.
"You all right?" he asked, his young voice carrying a genuine concern that only made K feel worse.
"Your master…" she began, hesitating and choosing each word carefully. "You really don't know who he is, do you?"
Orpheus frowned, confused. "Of course I do. He's my master—the man who saved me, who trained me."
K shook her head slowly. The boy didn't understand. How could he? He had no knowledge of the world beyond what Zack had chosen to share. He didn't know about the Void, didn't truly grasp what the Red Continent was, didn't know the hierarchy of the Hunters or the meaning of having black eyes.
"Orpheus," she said, stopping and taking the boy's arm so he would stop too. "Your master is the most wanted man in the world. A fugitive from the Polyhedron Country. His head is worth a billion gold coins."
She expected shock, confusion, perhaps denial. What she did not expect was the radiant smile that spread across Orpheus's face, followed by a genuine laugh of pure delight.
"Really?" he exclaimed, his eyes shining with something that looked like… pride? "A billion? That's… that's amazing!"
Before K could process his bewildering reaction, Orpheus impulsively hugged her, still laughing.
"I knew he was special," the boy went on, stepping back but keeping his hands on K's shoulders. "I always knew he was someone important!"
A chill ran down K's spine. There was something deeply disturbing in Orpheus's response. It wasn't normal. An ordinary boy would be horrified to learn his mentor was a wanted criminal, a feared killer across the world. But Orpheus was… happy? Proud?
"You don't understand," she insisted, her voice more urgent now. "The Polyhedron Country is the most powerful nation in the world. They hire the best Hunters to eliminate Zack and anyone connected to him. That includes you. That includes me, now that I've been working with you."
Orpheus shrugged; his smile only dimmed slightly. "It doesn't matter. We need to reach the others. They might be in danger."
With that, he turned and ran in the direction the group had taken, leaving K momentarily frozen in disbelief. When she finally snapped back, she ran after him, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts.
What had happened to this boy? What kind of psychological manipulation had Zack used to create such blind devotion? Or was it something darker—some form of mind control?
K didn't know what to do. Part of her wanted to run, to disappear before Zack decided she was a risk not worth keeping alive. Another part—one she didn't fully understand—felt responsible for Orpheus, as if she could somehow save him from Zack's influence.
As they ran through the alien landscape of the Red Continent, K watched Orpheus. He moved with the grace and precision of a trained fighter, but there was an innocence in his eyes that painfully contrasted with his lethal skills. It was as if two people lived in the same body—the warrior Zack had made, and the boy who still existed somewhere inside him.
The group of elders—Matheus and Loren—followed the path around the red lake, their steps hurried by fear. The city lay on the other side, but the way felt endless under the red light of the blood moon.
"Do you hear that?" Loren whispered, stopping abruptly.
Everyone froze, listening. A strange sound echoed through the forest—not exactly a throb, not exactly a whisper, something between the two, as if the forest itself were breathing.
"We should keep moving," the elder said, his voice trembling with fear. "We can't stop here."
They pressed on, but more slowly now, every noise making them jump, every shadow seeming to hide a threat. The giant trees, their red roots exposed, seemed to watch them; their orange leaves whispered secrets to one another in the faint wind.
Then, suddenly, silence. A silence so complete and unnatural it felt like a physical pressure against their ears. Even the sound of their breathing seemed swallowed by that acoustic void.
It was in that silence that he appeared.
There was no warning, no sound of approach, no movement in the shadows. One moment the path ahead was empty; the next, he was there, as if materialized from the air itself.
The Hunter.
He wore a long, English-style coat down to his feet, impeccably tailored despite the hostile environment. His white dress shirt was spotless; his black dress trousers fell perfectly over polished black shoes that gleamed even in the dim light. A cigarette hung casually from his lips, smoke rising in lazy spirals. His eyes were a deep, stormy blue—cold and calculating. Immaculate white gloves covered his hands, and a red hat with a black band capped off his oddly formal appearance.
But what was most unsettling wasn't his clothing; it was the complete absence of aura or presence. It was like looking at an empty space that happened to be shaped like a man. No energy emanated from him, no sense of life or intent. It was as if he wasn't really there.
The group froze. No introductions were needed. They knew exactly who—or what—he was and why he'd come.
The elderly woman was the first to react, stepping forward with arms outstretched in a protective gesture.
"Please," she begged, her voice breaking with emotion. "My grandson and his wife… they are young. They have their whole lives ahead of them. If you must take someone, take me."
The old man joined her, dropping to his knees in the black earth.
"Take my life," he offered, bowing his head submissively. "Let the others go. Please."
The Hunter did not reply. He continued to smoke calmly, watching them with those empty blue eyes, as if examining particularly interesting but ultimately insignificant insects.
Matheus and Loren exchanged quick glances and, in a desperate show of defiance, drew their weapons—a short sword and a dagger, respectively. They were common, almost pathetic against the threat, but it was all they had.
"No!" the elder woman cried, turning to grab Matheus's arm. "Don't do this. It's useless."
Silence hung on as the Hunter finished his cigarette, tossing the butt to the ground and methodically stepping on it with his shoe. His face remained impassive, showing neither pleasure nor anger nor any recognizable emotion.
Finally, he began to step toward the group. His movements were slow and deliberate, as if he had all the time in the world—which, in this situation, he probably did.
At that moment another figure appeared on the path, stepping between the Hunter and the terrified group.
Zack.
The Hunter's posture changed instantly and dramatically. Where calculated indifference had been, now there was astonishment, fear, and confusion. He took a step back, his blue eyes wide in recognition.
"Z-Zack?" he stammered, his voice surprisingly jaunty for someone who looked so sinister. "Is that really you?"
Zack smiled—a smile that didn't reach the black pits of his eyes.
"Tobi," he said, as if greeting an old friend in a tavern rather than confronting him in a foreign forest at an execution. "Long time."
"I didn't know," Tobi hurried to explain, raising his hands in surrender. "I swear on my life, I didn't know you were escorting them. If I'd known… well, you know I wouldn't have gotten in your way."
Zack kept that unsettling smile. "Of course you wouldn't. You were never that foolish."
The group watched the exchange with a mix of confusion and hesitant relief. The mortal tension of moments before had shifted into something different but no less uncomfortable—like watching two predators evaluate each other, deciding whether they would fight or hunt together.
"I'll let you go this time, Tobi," Zack finally said. "But meet me at the Holey Mug Bar in the Red City. We have matters to discuss."
Tobi nodded quickly, visibly relieved. "Of course, of course. Whatever you want, Zack."
Before he left, Tobi adjusted his red hat and offered a crooked smile. "We always meet in the worst places, don't we? Next time, how about a spa? I hear the mud treatments on the Blue Continent work wonders for battle scars."
Then, as suddenly as he had appeared, Tobi vanished—not as if walking away, but like an image that simply ceased to exist, leaving only the echo of his disturbing presence.
The group stood in stunned silence for several seconds, processing what had just happened. Then, as if awakening from a collective trance, they all looked at Zack with newfound understanding and fresh terror.
This man they had despised—this supposed worthless master who exploited his young apprentice—had just driven off an assassin who would have killed them without hesitation. More than that: the assassin knew him, feared him.
Who or what was Zack, really?
Matheus was the first to drop to his knees, followed quickly by Loren and the other elders. All bowed their heads in submission—the same gesture they'd offered Tobi moments before, but now filled with a reverent terror unlike anything before.
"Please," Matheus murmured, his voice barely audible. "Spare our lives."
Zack watched them with an unreadable expression. Then, to everyone's surprise, he made an impatient hand gesture.
"Stand up," he ordered. "I don't have time for this. Keep moving and wait for Orpheus and K. They should be arriving."
Without waiting to see if they obeyed, Zack stepped back a few paces and sat on a large stone, watching the group with inscrutable eyes.
They rose hesitantly, exchanging nervous glances. No one dared speak or approach Zack. Instead, they stayed together like frightened sheep, waiting in tense silence for Orpheus and K to arrive.
When Orpheus and K finally reached the group, the air was so thick with unresolved tension it could almost be cut with a knife. Orpheus immediately sensed something significant had happened in his absence. The group was unnaturally quiet, huddled like scared animals, and Zack—Zack was sitting on a nearby stone, watching everyone with a neutral expression.
K fought to control her reactions. Now that she knew who Zack really was, every fiber of her being screamed to run, to hide, to do anything but remain in the presence of the most dangerous man in the known world. But she kept her face carefully composed, feigning ignorance—afraid that any sign of her newly gained knowledge might seal her death sentence.
"What happened?" Orpheus asked, looking from Zack to the group and back.
Zack answered, his voice casual as if commenting on the weather. "Tobi was here. The Hunter who was after them."
Orpheus felt as if he'd been punched in the gut. Tobi. A name he'd never heard before, but one that clearly meant something to Zack. A Hunter. The Hunter he should have detected, should have faced, should have defeated to protect his clients.
"I…" he began, but the words failed him. The realization that his first solo mission would have ended in complete disaster without Zack's intervention crushed him.
"Don't worry," Zack said, reading Orpheus's expression correctly. "Tobi is one of the top ten Hunters in the world. He can completely hide his presence. Even I can't sense him."
K's eyes widened involuntarily. One of the top ten Hunters in the world? Had she unwittingly accepted a job that put her in the path of an elite assassin? And Zack — the Hunter of the Black Eyes — was admitting that even he had trouble detecting this Tobi?
"He specializes in silent kills," Zack continued. "You would never have seen him coming."
Despite Zack's reassurances, Orpheus still felt powerless and weak. All his training, all the skills he had shown against the Void creature, seemed insignificant now. What was the point of all that power if he couldn't even detect an approaching enemy?
"I'm only going to the city," K announced abruptly. "After that, our contract is over."
No one contested her decision. It was perfectly understandable that she would want to put as much distance as possible between herself and this dangerous situation.
"It doesn't matter," Zack said with a shrug of indifference. "You'll all die as soon as you enter the city anyway."
The group froze, looking at Zack with renewed horror.
"What?" Loren whispered, barely audible.
"Tobi will kill you," Zack explained with the same casualness someone might use when talking about the weather. "Maybe while you sleep. Or while you eat an apple in the street. He's very good at what he does."
"Please," the old man begged, taking a hesitant step toward Zack. "You saved us once. Please help us again."
"Yes," Matheus joined in, his pride completely forgotten in the face of terror. "We'll pay whatever it takes."
K turned her face away, deliberately ignoring the desperate pleas. Zack simply shook his head.
"It's useless," he said. "You're going to die. It's not worth the effort to try to stop the inevitable."
The casual cruelty of his words shocked even K, who had seen her share of brutality as a mercenary. Zack spoke of their lives like insects — insignificant, disposable, not even worth the effort to be saved.
Orpheus watched the scene with growing discomfort. Something inside him rebelled against his master's indifference. These were people — frightened, vulnerable people who had trusted him to protect them. Yes, he had failed to detect Tobi, but that didn't mean he should abandon them now.
"I'll help them," he finally said, his voice firm despite the tremor in his hands.
Zack looked at his apprentice with an unreadable expression. "Don't get involved, Orpheus. It's not our problem."
"It's my job," Orpheus insisted. "I took the mission."
The tension between master and apprentice was palpable. No one dared breathe as the two faced each other, a silent battle of wills.
Seeing an opening, the elderly woman approached Zack and, to everyone's horror, knelt and clung to his leg.
"Please," she sobbed, tears running down her wrinkled face. "We're old, we don't have much time left anyway. But my grandson and his wife… they deserve a chance."
Zack looked at the old woman clinging to his leg, his face still impassive. For a long moment no one moved. Then, slowly, Zack turned his gaze to Orpheus.
"The choice is yours," he said at last. "It's your job, as you said."
Orpheus nodded, grateful for the concession, however small.
"But," Zack continued, his tone shifting subtly, "if you're going to face someone like Tobi, the price goes up. 300,000 gold coins."
Matheus choked. "Three hundred thousand?"
"Your apprentice isn't going to fight one of the top ten Hunters in the world for pocket change," Zack explained coldly.
"We… we don't have that much," Loren admitted, his face pale with desperation. "We only have 10,000 gold coins. We didn't expect someone of that level to be hunting us."
Zack spat on the ground, his face twisted in absolute contempt. "Garbage," he muttered. "You want elite protection at beggar's prices."
Orpheus felt a wave of indignation rise in his throat. He didn't like to see these people — especially the elderly — treated with such disdain. They were frightened, desperate, doing the best they could with the limited resources they had.
"I'll do it for 5,000 gold coins," he announced, surprising everyone, including himself.
Zack slowly turned to face him, his black eyes piercing as if they could see through Orpheus's soul. The boy stood firm, holding his master's gaze without flinching.
"Please, master," he said, his voice softer now. "Trust me."
Something changed in Zack's face — an almost imperceptible softening around the eyes, a slight relaxation of the tension in his jaw. He stepped closer to Orpheus and, to everyone's surprise, placed his hand on the boy's neck in a gesture that was almost affectionate.
"You're a good boy, Orpheus," he said, his voice kinder than anyone there had ever heard. "I don't want to see you suffer. The life of a Hunter isn't an illusion; it's brutal, lonely, and usually short."
Orpheus remained silent, absorbing his master's words.
"But I understand," Zack continued. "Do what you need to do."
The group erupted into effusive thanks. The elders embraced Orpheus, tears of relief streaming down their wrinkled faces. Matheus shook his hand repeatedly, while Loren kissed his cheek in gratitude.
K watched the scene with a sense of unreality. She felt completely out of place, carrying alone the burden of knowing who Zack really was and what his presence meant. Part of her wanted to shout for everyone to run, to hide, to do anything but trust a man whose reputation was built on piles of corpses. But she stayed silent, knowing that revealing her knowledge would be signing her own death warrant.
By the time the group finally calmed, Zack had already disappeared, leaving as quietly as Tobi had before him. Orpheus showed no sign of surprise or concern at his master's disappearance; apparently, this was normal behavior.
As they resumed their journey toward the Red City, the group bombarded Orpheus and K with questions about Zack.
"Who is he really?"
"Why was that Hunter so afraid of him?"
"How did he make Tobi leave just by talking to him?"
Orpheus answered none of the questions, keeping a resolute silence that only fed the group's curiosity and fear. K, for her part, merely shot severe looks whenever questions were directed at her, her silence making it clear that this was not a topic to be discussed.
The mood was heavy, laden with unanswered questions and unspoken fears. Zack's figure hung over them like a shadow, even in his physical absence — a ghost made not of ectoplasm but of reputation and power.
From a vantage point high among the giant trees, Zack watched his apprentice lead the others along the winding trail. His black eyes reflected the red light of the blood moon, giving them an otherworldly gleam.
"Soon," he murmured to himself, "you will understand the true purpose of why we're here, Orpheus. And then, perhaps, you will finally comprehend who I really am."
The blood moon shone mercilessly over the Red Continent, indifferent to the human dramas unfolding beneath its crimson light. The second major arc of the story was only beginning, and with it, revelations that would forever change Orpheus's understanding of his master, his world, and his own destiny.