Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest-Chapter 627 137.5 - The kid

I reached down, grabbed the kid, and pulled him up into my arms. The boy didn't resist, his body limp and unresponsive as I lifted him effortlessly. His small frame was frail, lighter than I had expected, a testament to the harsh conditions he had endured.

Without wasting any time, I reached into my spatial storage and retrieved a small mask.

I placed it over the kid's face, the mask fitting snugly, immediately dampening any trace of his breathing or body functions.

"Hold on," I muttered, more to myself than to him, as I felt the shift in the air around us.

My eyes scanned the area, flicking over every corner of the chamber. The walls groaned under the weight of the structure's impending collapse, but before anything else could go wrong, I used telekinesis to retrieve the artifact that had been serving as an isolator. The subtle hum of magic flickered as I pulled it free, letting the isolator deactivate as I kept my attention focused on the exit.

With the kid secured in one arm, I bent my knees and, without a second thought, leaped high into the air.

The building blurred beneath me as I propelled us upward, my movement precise and calculated, and I reached the place where I had entered Zharokath's room.

'Now….' The moment I cleared the chamber, I activated [Shadowborne], shrouding both myself and the kid in complete darkness. My presence vanished from the physical realm, the shadows enveloping us like a cloak as I masked every trace of sound and movement. It was more than just hiding mana signatures—I was covering every aspect of our existence.

I had already scanned the kid with my [Eyes], ensuring there were no marks or traces that could lead anyone to us. No signals, no embedded spells—he was clean. They had raised him as livestock, not as an asset worth tracking.

Still, I knew better than to underestimate the persistence of those who could possibly be trailing me, though that possibility is really low. Even if they could trail us through other means, it wouldn't matter. I was confident in my ability to escape, and with [Shadowborne] in effect, no one would detect us.

Without hesitation, I sent a thin mana thread from my hand, the spell [Grapple] activating smoothly as it latched onto the top of the crumbling building. The thread pulsed with energy, taut and strong, and with a fluid motion, I pulled us upward, swinging through the air.

The darkness of the night wrapped around us, concealing our presence further as I moved swiftly through the collapsing structure. The kid remained limp in my arms, completely unaware of the movements, his breathing masked by the small device I had placed on him.

I swung through the shadows. My body moved like a blur. The cityscape shifted around us as I continued to swing from one structure to the next, my movements fluid as I created more distance between us and the wreckage of Zharokath's lair.

After several more swings through the shadows, I finally descended toward the ground, landing softly in a narrow, desolate alley. The faint moonlight barely illuminated the area, casting long shadows against the weathered walls of the surrounding buildings. The kid remained motionless in my arms, the quiet hum of the small mask still doing its job, and I set him down gently on the cold ground, taking a moment to inspect him.

As I looked him over, I noted that his clothes were only slightly wrinkled, and his hair a bit sparky from the wind, but otherwise, he seemed unaffected by the rapid movements we had just gone through. His small chest rose and fell steadily, his breathing calm and even.

I nodded to myself, satisfied. The mask was doing its job perfectly. It was designed with situations like this in mind, knowing that a normal person couldn't possibly keep up with the speed of an Awakened without suffering severe consequences.

They wouldn't be able to breathe properly, let alone endure the sheer force exerted on their body during such movements. But the mask... it alleviated the pressure, regulating the flow of air and reducing the strain on the body. It was efficient and discreet—perfect for ensuring the boy's safety during our escape.

I crouched beside him, my eyes scanning the alleyway. It was empty, as expected. This part of the city had been abandoned long ago, and there were no prying eyes to worry about. Still, I remained cautious. I couldn't afford to let my guard down, not when we were so close to getting out of this mess cleanly.

The boy lay there, his body limp but stable, his face serene despite everything he had been through. It was almost eerie how calm he looked—like he was already used to being treated as little more than an object, something to be moved, used, and discarded.

'Sigh…..'

I couldn't help but shake my head a little, somehow understanding how Aaron must have felt at that time.

It was quite interesting.

'Though, not long after this will not be my problem.'

Now that I had hunted Zharokath, I could just contact the organization for a clean-up. I doubt that they are afraid of antagonizing demons.

I looked down at the kid, and controlling my strength, I removed the mask from his face. His breathing remained steady, and the faint tension that had been present earlier seemed to melt away. Just moments ago, I had already called for a taxi; it would be here soon. Time was still on our side.

I crouched next to him again, my eyes searching his face. "Are you feeling any pain?" I asked, my voice low but clear.

The boy blinked slowly, his expression blank, almost devoid of any reaction. After a moment, he shook his head, but there was no conviction in the gesture. His eyes were still vacant, as if he wasn't fully here, his mind elsewhere—probably still trapped in the remnants of the hell he had endured.

I sighed inwardly, my thoughts drifting as I studied the faint bruises and marks that marred his small frame. The abuse he'd suffered left visible signs, but it was the unseen damage that concerned me more. Physically, he might not be showing the pain he was feeling right now, but undoubtedly unless he had a special ability, those wounds could not have been possibly healed.

I stood up, keeping my gaze on the boy for a moment longer, then reached into my spatial storage and retrieved a coat. Without a word, I tossed it to him. "Cover yourself."

The boy caught the coat clumsily, his small hands trembling as he slowly draped it over his frail body. He moved mechanically, as if going through the motions without fully understanding why. His vacant stare remained, still locked in the mental prison of everything he had endured.

I turned my back to him, already pushing aside any lingering emotion. Whatever he had gone through wasn't my concern. Not anymore. My job was done, or it would be once I handed him off to the organization. I didn't need to get attached or involved any further. That was how it needed to be.

Still, the bruises and cuts on his skin were something I couldn't ignore. Those would need to be treated before we got to the hotel. At the very least, I couldn't let him remain in such a state until someone else arrived. Basic first aid was something I could handle without getting too close. That much I could do.

And he'd need food. I hadn't seen him eat anything, and given the conditions he was held in, there was no telling how long it had been since his last meal. I'd make sure he had something to eat once we got to the room. It wasn't about care—it was about making sure he was in a stable condition until he was out of my hands.

I began to walk toward the end of the alley, my steps measured and purposeful. As I moved, I activated the [Unknown's Armor], allowing it to shift and morph, reshaping my clothes into a more casual appearance. In mere seconds, the sleek combat attire was replaced with a dark, nondescript jacket and pants, the perfect disguise for blending into the city's background.

The boy followed quietly behind, his movements sluggish, but at least he was able to walk. I didn't bother looking back at him. There was no need. He'd keep up, or I'd pull him along if necessary.

I felt the weight of the situation settle back into place, but it no longer affected me.

'Focus, and don't forget the reason you are here. You are not a hero.' I wasn't here to be his savior. I was just getting him out. Nothing more.

As we approached the main street, I could already see the taxi waiting at the curb.

The taxi was already waiting by the curb, just as I had arranged during our swift escape. Its headlights cast a soft glow on the deserted street, and I could make out the silhouette of the driver inside, his hands resting on the steering wheel.

I opened the back door and gestured for the boy to get in. He hesitated for a brief moment, but then, as if by some automatic response, he shuffled forward and slid into the seat. I followed, settling in beside him, keeping a close eye on our surroundings even though the immediate threat had passed.

The driver glanced at me through the rearview mirror, his professional demeanor unwavering, though I could tell he was curious. "Where to?" he asked, his voice steady.

"The Meridian Hotel," I replied calmly, giving him both the name and location.

He nodded without a word, shifting the taxi into gear and pulling smoothly into the road. The hum of the engine filled the car as we began moving through the quiet streets. The city lights reflected off the windows, casting fleeting shadows across the boy's face.

Though the driver kept his focus on the road, I noticed him glance at the boy from time to time. He didn't ask any questions—likely out of professionalism—but I could see the subtle curiosity in his eyes. The kid's blank expression and disheveled state must've raised some suspicions, but to the driver's credit, he said nothing.

I stared out the window, keeping my thoughts contained. There was no need for conversation. The boy sat beside me, silent, still wearing that distant, empty look. I wasn't concerned about what the driver thought or what conclusions he might draw. He wasn't involved. He didn't need to know.

As we continued down the road, I kept track of the route, ensuring we were moving toward the hotel as planned. The sooner we arrived, the sooner I could treat the boy's injuries and hand him over to the organization.