Chapter 280 – Hunger, Fate, and Misguided Wind
Ilan stretched his arms with a loud yawn.
— Aaaah…
— I'm hungry.
A real hunger.
Not the kind you ignore with mana.
The honest kind. Human. Tragic.
— Seriously, he muttered,
— surviving embodied concepts, refusing the domination of a rank S…
— only to end up with an empty stomach, that's disgraceful.
He sighed, eyes lifted to the gray sky.
— Whoever designed this labyrinth…
— what kind of twisted angel are they, huh?
— Giving you just enough hope to remind you you haven't eaten.
His thoughts drifted.
The commander.
The elite hunters.
The chance he had been given.
Then a name crossed his mind.
— …Liora.
He gave a slightly foolish smile.
— Seriously, she…
— what an angel, that commander.
— Me, who thought my life was over…
He patted his stomach lightly.
— Right. Priorities.
— Restaurant.
— Then home.
— Scalding bath.
— Bed.
— And above all… sleep like someone who didn't almost die today.
He straightened.
— Destination: The Smoky Bowl.
A small neighborhood restaurant.
Nothing luxurious.
Wooden tables a bit worn, hearty dishes, and a homemade soup that made you forget you were poor.
Exactly the kind of place Ilan loved.
— A rank‑D hunter with simple taste, huh…, he murmured with a smile.
He walked calmly when he felt it.
Not a threat.
Not hostility.
But… a presence.
He turned his head.
A young man stood a little further away, motionless.
Short green hair, calm gaze, relaxed posture.
He observed the surroundings like someone analyzing, not like someone lost.
— …Hmm.
Ilan narrowed his eyes.
— Okay, either you're a weird tourist,
— or you're a future problem.
He approached.
— Hey, he called.
— You looking for something, or just pretending to be mysterious?
The young man flinched slightly.
— A‑Ah… sorry.
— I… was observing.
— Observing what? Ilan asked.
— The sidewalks? Because they're not very impressive.
The youth hesitated, then answered politely:
— It's my first time here.
— I come from… far away.
— Classic, Ilan sighed.
— Everyone comes from "far away."
The boy inhaled, then straightened.
— My name is Aeris.
— I come from the Northern Pantheon world guild.
Ilan froze.
— …Huh?
He looked him up and down.
— Wait.
— The Northern Pantheon?
— Like one of the four world guilds?
Aeris nodded timidly.
— Yes.
Ilan blinked.
— …Okay.
— First, you're way too calm for someone that important.
— Second… what are you doing here?
— I heard about a certain labyrinth, Aeris replied.
— My guild leader, Lysandra, gave me a recommendation.
— I'm supposed to present it to the Black Eclipse guild.
— …Of course, Ilan muttered.
— Weird stuff always happens when I'm hungry.
He studied Aeris more closely.
— Let me guess.
— High rank?
— Rank A+++, Aeris answered.
— Close to rank S.
Silence.
— …
— And I'm sixteen.
Even heavier silence.
Ilan put a hand over his face.
— …Sixteen.
— Years.
He slowly lowered his hand.
— Okay.
— I'll pretend not to compare my life to yours.
— Because otherwise I'll cry into my meal.
Aeris tilted his head slightly, embarrassed.
— Sorry…
— No no, Ilan replied.
— It's not your fault you're an annoying prodigy.
He grew serious again.
— So.
— You were heading to the guild?
— Not really, Aeris admitted.
— I'm not in a hurry.
— This labyrinth interests me more for now.
Ilan smiled.
— Bad idea.
— Very bad idea.
— …Why?
— Because this labyrinth eats you alive.
— Slowly.
— Conceptually.
Aeris seemed to think.
— …Sounds interesting.
— Of course it does, Ilan sighed.
— You prodigies are all the same.
He pointed down the street.
— Listen.
— I'm going to eat.
— Right now.
— Vital emergency.
He pointed at Aeris.
— You're coming with me.
— Uh… why?
— Because:
you look socially lost,
I don't want to eat alone,
and I've already decided.
He grabbed Aeris by the wrist.
— Come on.
— The Smoky Bowl is two streets away.
Aeris blinked, then gave a small smile.
— …Alright.
— I don't mind.
— Perfect, Ilan concluded.
— Welcome to real life.
And as they walked away,
two hunters who couldn't be more different —
one broken but standing,
the other gifted but still naïve —
stepped unknowingly into a meeting that would change far more than their evening plans.
— And by the way, Ilan said as they walked,
— if you order something too expensive,
— you're paying.
Aeris gave a small laugh.
— Promise.
Night was falling gently over the city.
And somewhere, the Labyrinth was watching.
Chapter 281 – The Smoking Bowl and Those Who Overflow
Ilan led Aeris into a small street away from the main avenues.
No neon lights. No blaring music. Just a dark wooden sign, slightly burned at the edges, with a hand‑painted symbol:
**The Smoky Bowl**
— Here we are, Ilan announced with a tired but honest smile.
— My gastronomic headquarters.
Aeris looked up at the sign, hesitant. — …This isn't a restaurant for the rich.
— Exactly, Ilan replied, pushing the door open.
— It's for people who eat because they're alive, not to show off status.
Inside, warmth wrapped around them immediately.
A deep smell of broth simmered for hours, simple spices perfectly balanced. Worn wooden tables, some patched together hastily. Tired hunters, noisy civilians, quiet regulars. Laughter. Pointless arguments. Conversations without importance.
Real life.
— It's… cozy, Aeris murmured.
— Careful, Ilan replied, taking off his coat.
— Say that too loud and the chef will start thinking he's an artist.
As if summoned by the remark, a massive man stepped out of the kitchen. Thick arms, stained apron, sharp eyes.
— Ilan!
— Not dead this week?
— Not yet, Chef Goran, Ilan answered.
— Disappointed?
— Always.
They clasped forearms like two old survivors.
— The usual? Goran asked.
— Not today, Ilan said, pointing at Aeris.
— I've got a guest.
Goran narrowed his eyes, studying the green‑haired boy. — …Doesn't look dangerous.
Aeris flushed instantly. — I—I'm sorry if I'm intruding…
— Talented, Ilan corrected.
— Very.
— You're exaggerating, Aeris protested.
— I'm nowhere near that—
— Stop putting yourself down, Ilan cut him off.
— At this rate you'll end up apologizing for existing.
Aeris opened his mouth… then closed it.
— I can pay, he murmured.
— I have money.
Ilan burst out laughing. — No.
— But—
— No.
— I'm inviting, so I suffer financially.
— I'd feel guilty if—
— Don't worry, Ilan replied.
— I'm already guilty about my rank. One more guilt won't change much.
Goran sighed, amused. — Fine. What am I cooking for you?
— Two bowls of beef stew with black miso.
— Thick noodles.
— And add the marinated egg, even if you pretend it's "off‑menu."
— Little cheater, Goran grumbled with a smile.
— Alright.
He turned to Aeris. — And for you, quiet prodigy… less spice.
— No no! I can handle—
— Too late, Goran cut him off.
— Here, I decide.
A few minutes later, a waiter set down appetizers: crispy vegetable fritters, grilled tofu bites, soy sauce lightly sweet and spiced.
— Enjoy, gentlemen.
— Thanks, Ilan said, already digging in.
Aeris tasted cautiously… then his eyes lit up. — This is… incredible.
— I know, Ilan replied with his mouth full.
— That's why I'm poor.
The door slammed open.
The restaurant's noise slowly faded. A heavy silence settled.
A big brute walked in. Broad. Too sure of himself. A rank‑B hunter, known for one thing: silencing a room without raising a fist.
— Oooh… he sneered.
— Look who it is. The failure.
Ilan kept eating. Didn't look up.
Aeris froze. His yellow eyes glowed for an instant. Not fear. Tension.
— I'm talking to you, Ilan.
— And who's this kid next to you?
No one dared intervene.
Ilan slowly set down his chopsticks. — Eat your meal.
— Or get out.
The brute laughed. — Still insolent for a rank D.
He leaned toward Aeris. — Careful, kid. Hanging around losers like him will—
He stopped cold.
An imperceptible draft swept through the room. Not violent. Not visible.
But for a fraction of a second, Aeris's gaze pierced him.
The brute felt space folding in on him. Every breath watched from above. Something vast and silent judging him.
Glasses trembled. Flames in the kitchen flickered.
Aeris shook. Not from fear. From contained anger.
The brute stepped back. — …What the hell is this?
Ilan finally looked up. Calm. Cold. — I gave you two options.
The pressure vanished instantly.
The brute hesitated… then spat on the floor. — Tch.
He left.
Noise slowly returned to the restaurant.
Aeris breathed fast. — I… I'm sorry… I didn't mean to…
Ilan sighed. — Don't worry.
— You just sneezed with your aura.
— I'm really sorry!
Ilan smiled. — Welcome to The Smoky Bowl, kid.
— Here, even dangerous people eat in peace.
The dishes arrived, steaming.
And for a moment… the Labyrinth, the ranks, the concepts, didn't exist.
Just a hot bowl. And two hunters, worlds apart… eating together. 🍜🔥
Chapter 282 – Those Who Do Not Pass Alone
The Smoky Bowl had quieted down.
The bowls were nearly empty, the broth reduced to a dark, fragrant trace. Ilan set down his chopsticks with a satisfied sigh.
— There.
— If I die tonight, at least I ate well.
Aeris blinked. — …Do you say that often?
— Often enough for it to be statistically worrying, Ilan replied.
They sat in silence for a while. Not an awkward silence. The kind that doesn't need to be filled.
Around them, conversations resumed their normal rhythm. No one spoke of the brute. No one spoke of the pressure. On Earth, people had a remarkable ability to forget what didn't concern them directly.
Aeris stared at his empty bowl, thoughtful. — Ilan…
— Hmm?
— Earlier… that rank‑B hunter…
— The other idiot?
— Yes.
— Weren't you afraid?
Ilan thought honestly. — Yes.
— A little. — But not like before.
He rubbed the back of his neck. — Before, I would have lowered my eyes. — I would have waited for it to pass. — Or for someone else to step in.
Aeris lifted his head slightly. — And now?
— Now… I know that even if I lose, I don't lose myself.
Aeris stayed quiet. His fingers tightened slightly on the table. — In the Labyrinth…
— Is it the same for everyone?
Ilan gave a small smile. — No.
He straightened a little. — That's the thing. — The Labyrinth doesn't hand out trials in series. — It looks at you. — Then it gives you exactly what you cannot ignore.
Aeris frowned. — So… if two hunters climb to the same floor…
— They might see the same place, Ilan explained. — The same setting. — But not the same trial.
— Even for the monsters?
— The creatures are real, Ilan answered. — They strike, they kill, they block progression. — But the true trials… the ones that leave a mark…
— They're personal.
Aeris inhaled slowly. — And the Supreme Bosses?
Ilan hesitated for a fraction of a second. — Them, they're different. — They embody fixed concepts. — Measure. — Continuity. — Others still.
He tapped the table with his finger. — But even if they represent the same concept… — They don't judge you in the same way.
— Otherwise, Aeris murmured, everyone would obtain the same powers.
— Exactly. — And that would be boring.
Aeris gave a small smile. — You're surprisingly lucid for someone who calls himself "poor and rank D."
— Thanks, Ilan replied. — I try to keep at least one stat decent.
They paid the bill despite Aeris's protests. Goran waved at them from the kitchen. — Come back alive, Ilan!
— I'll try! Ilan shouted back.
Outside, night had fallen. The streetlights cast imperfect, yellowish light. The city kept breathing.
Aeris stopped. — Ilan.
— Yes?
— You said the Labyrinth doesn't force anyone to move forward.
— Yeah.
— Then…
— Why do you go back?
Ilan looked at the sky. Not the stars. Just the clouds.
— Because for the first time…
— I move forward without feeling obliged to prove anything.
Aeris nodded slowly. — I think… I'd like to enter with you, someday.
Ilan burst out laughing. — Bad idea. — I'm a catastrophic guide.
— Yet, Aeris said timidly,
— you've already shown me more than many masters.
They resumed walking. Two silhouettes in a city too large.
And somewhere, far beyond human perception, the Labyrinth recorded a simple truth:
A hunter never progresses alone.
Chapter 283 – The Silent House
Aeris and Ilan walked side by side in the darkness. Street lanterns were rare here, and the light seemed to dissolve between the narrow walls.
— Where are you planning to go? Ilan asked after a moment. — Why don't you come to my place? — That way, tomorrow, we'll head to the Labyrinth together.
Aeris turned his gaze slightly away. — It's just… how should I put it…
— Why are you hesitating? Ilan sighed. — Don't be difficult, just come with me.
Without giving him time to answer, Ilan grabbed his hand. — This way. Follow me.
They slipped into a narrow alley. The stone walls were damp, covered in cracks and torn old posters. A smell of dust and burnt wood lingered in the air, as if something had happened recently.
Ilan slowed down. — It's over there…
The house stood at the end of the alley. Small. Simple. A roof slightly tilted, pale walls, and a window that was usually lit.
But this time…
The door was destroyed.
The wood hung in splinters, torn from its hinges. Ilan's heart tightened.
— …No.
He rushed inside.
The house was in chaos. Chairs overturned. Shelves broken. Personal belongings thrown to the ground as if they had no value. The walls bore marks of blows, and the silence was heavy, suffocating.
— Mother!
In a corner of the room, his mother sat on the floor. Trembling hands covered her mouth. Her eyes wide, red, frozen in a mix of fear and shock.
— Mother… what happened?!
She slowly raised her eyes to him. — S‑some men came… she said in a trembling voice. — They wrecked everything… they shouted… they asked for your name…
Her clothes were wrinkled, covered in dust. Her breathing uneven. Physically unharmed, but clearly traumatized.
Ilan's fists clenched. He did not shout. He did not tremble.
He whispered a single name.
— …That dog.
— Harassing me wasn't enough, he murmured. — He had to go after my mother too…
Behind him, Aeris hadn't moved. His voice, when it rose, was gentle.
— …Madam wasn't hurt?
Ilan's mother turned her head, surprised. — Who is this young man…?
— I met him on the way back, Ilan replied. — He's a good person.
Aeris stepped forward then. He bowed deeply before her.
— My name is Aeris. — Pleased to meet you, madam.
Then, slowly, he raised a hand.
A soft glow, almost translucent, emerged. It wasn't an aggressive light. More like a visible breeze. As if the air itself had turned benevolent.
The light wrapped around Ilan's mother. Her breathing steadied. The tension in her shoulders eased. The invisible pain — fear, shock, panic — gradually faded.
Aeris was using a technique of aerial vital flow: harmonizing breath, stabilizing inner energy, dissipating the waves of stress accumulated in the body.
When the light faded, Ilan's mother inhaled deeply. — …I feel… better.
She lifted her eyes to Aeris, moved. — Thank you, young man. — That was very kind of you.
Aeris blushed slightly. — It's nothing… really.
Ilan watched the scene in silence. Then he stepped closer.
— Mother…
His voice finally trembled. But not from weakness.
Something inside him had cracked.
And it wasn't the house.