Shadow Husband:I Have a Hidden SSS-Class System-Chapter 76: THE INVITATION

The morning after trials brought the tedious bureaucracy Rama had been dreading.

The Hunter Association’s regulatory board meeting convened at nine AM in a sterile conference room that smelled of stale coffee and political maneuvering. Rama and Sekar sat on one side of a long table. Hendra Wijaya and his legal team sat on the other. Between them, Director Hartono and four board members who looked like they’d rather be anywhere else.

"Let’s begin," Hartono said tiredly. "We’re here to address escalating tensions between Eternal Bond and Dragon’s Gate guilds. Recent events—champion trials, sabotage allegations, public accusations—have created instability in the hunter community. Both guilds need to de-escalate."

"We’re not the ones who need to de-escalate," Sekar said immediately. "Dragon’s Gate sent saboteurs to murder our trial candidates. We have confessions. Evidence. They should be facing criminal prosecution, not regulatory mediation."

"Alleged saboteurs," Hendra corrected smoothly. "Making unsubstantiated claims. Our legal team has reviewed your so-called evidence. Coerced confessions. Circumstantial brain scans. Nothing concrete."

"Two candidates are dead because your operatives attacked them mentally during trials."

"Two candidates died from System rejection. Tragic but expected. You claimed fifteen percent mortality. Five deaths from thirty-eight candidates is thirteen percent. Within your predictions. Where’s the sabotage?"

Rama watched Hendra perform. Calm. Professional. Completely shameless in denying everything. The man was a skilled liar when cameras weren’t rolling.

"The sabotage is documented," Rama said. "Fajar confessed to being recruited by Arif Santoso. Dimas showed dual-processing brain patterns consistent with attacking other candidates while maintaining his own trial. We terminated his trial and mental attacks stopped immediately. Cause and effect."

"Or coincidence. Or your own incompetence creating phantom threats to excuse poor trial management." Hendra looked at the board members. "Rama Kusuma has also made public threats against my life. Stating he intends to let me die in three months. That’s terroristic threatening. Criminal behavior."

"I didn’t threaten to kill you," Rama said flatly. "I declined to warn you about your fate. There’s a legal difference."

"You publicly declared you’re letting me die. That’s a threat."

"It’s prophecy. System visions show multiple possible futures. In most timelines where you refuse to prepare for void entities, you die. I’m choosing not to prevent that specific future. That’s moral decision-making, not threatening."

One of the board members—an older woman named Kartika—raised her hand. "Mr. Kusuma, you understand how that sounds? ’I’m letting you die’ is functionally a threat regardless of prophetic framing."

"Then every doctor who says ’I can’t save this patient’ is making threats. Every person who chooses not to help someone is threatening them. That’s absurd legal logic."

"Context matters. You made the statement in response to Mr. Wijaya’s public criticism. It appears retaliatory."

"It is retaliatory," Rama admitted. "He called me dead weight. Insulted my wife. Used murdered candidates for political theater. So yes, I’m retaliating by declining to save him. But declining to help isn’t the same as actively harming."

Hartono rubbed his temples. "Both of you need to stop. The public feuding. The accusations. The prophecies of death. It’s destabilizing the hunter community when we need unity."

"Unity against what?" Hendra asked. "Against imaginary void entities? Rama’s delusions about extinction in thirty-one days?"

"Thirty-one days," Rama repeated. "When the Herald arrives exactly as predicted, everyone here will understand who was delusional. Until then, we prepare. Those who believe survive. Those who don’t—" He looked at Hendra. "—face consequences."

"That’s another threat!"

"That’s reality. I’m done arguing semantics." Rama stood. "Are we facing charges? Sanctions? Actual consequences? Or is this just performative mediation?"

Hartono sighed. "No formal charges at this time. But both guilds are under observation. Further escalation will result in sanctions. Guild license suspensions. Personal hunter rank demotions. We’re serious about maintaining order."

"Noted. Can we leave now?"

"Meeting adjourned."

The two guilds filed out separately. As they passed in the hallway, Hendra leaned close enough for only Rama to hear.

"Thirty-one days. When nothing happens, I’m going to enjoy watching you collapse under the weight of your own delusions."

Rama smiled coldly. "Ninety-two days. When you die screaming, I’m going to enjoy knowing I could have prevented it and chose not to."

They separated. Sekar grabbed Rama’s arm, pulling him toward the elevator.

"That was productive," she said sarcastically. "Accomplished nothing except making everyone angry."

"Expected. Hartono wants peace. Hendra wants vindication. I want him dead. Incompatible goals." Rama checked his phone as they descended. "At least we’re not facing immediate sanctions."

"Yet. Further escalation triggers consequences. Which means we need to be careful about public conflicts."

"Agreed. No more press conferences declaring his fate. I’ll let prophecy prove itself in thirty-one days."

They returned to guild headquarters to find administrative chaos waiting. Fourteen Champions needing training schedules. Five grieving families requiring support. Legal team preparing criminal cases. Media requesting interviews. The aftermath of trials seemed endless.

Rama excused himself around noon, claiming he needed air. Which was true. But also convenient cover for what happened next.

The courier found him in the guild’s training courtyard.

Young man, nondescript, wearing motorcycle helmet that obscured his face. He approached directly, handed Rama a black envelope sealed with red wax, and departed without speaking.

Rama turned the envelope over. No markings. No sender information. Just weight suggesting thick paper stock inside.

He opened it carefully.

The invitation was printed on expensive black cardstock with red foil text:

UNDERGROUND HUNTER TOURNAMENT

Jakarta Underground Arena

Date: Three Days Hence

Prize Pool: 500,000,000 Rupiah

Grand Prize: Special Item from System Cache

Rules:

Single elimination bracket, 32 fighters No killing (permanent injury acceptable) Masked identities required (anonymity guaranteed) All ranks welcome (B-rank minimum recommended) Register within 24 hours

Confirmed Participants Include:

Dragon’s Gate Guild Master (S-rank, Lv 62) Multiple A-rank hunters from major guilds Several underground circuit champions

To Register: Reply to this invitation with fighter alias and accepted level declaration.

Rama read it twice. Underground tournament. Illegal but tolerated through bribes and elite participation. Big prize money he didn’t need. System cache item that intrigued but wasn’t critical.

But one line caught his absolute attention:

Dragon’s Gate Guild Master (S-rank, Lv 62)

Hendra was competing.

Rama felt something cold and calculating settle in his chest. This was opportunity. Perfect opportunity.

Fight Hendra. Masked. Anonymous. No legal consequences. No Association sanctions. Just pure combat where he could humiliate the man who’d called him dead weight.

And if masked properly, no one would know Bayangan was Rama Kusuma.

Plausible deniability. Perfect cover.

He pulled out his phone, calling Yanto.

"I need your help with something illegal."

"Of course you do. What now?"

"Underground hunter tournament. I need false identity. Fake credentials. Mask that hides everything. Can you arrange it?"

Silence. Then: "You’re seriously considering entering illegal fighting tournament three days after completing champion trials?"

"I’m considering publicly destroying Hendra Wijaya in a fight where he can’t claim I threatened him afterward because he won’t know it was me."

"That’s insane."

"That’s strategic. He called me dead weight. Used murdered candidates for politics. Filed criminal charges claiming I threatened him. Now he’s entering underground tournament where anything goes. I can fight him. Beat him. Humiliate him. And he’ll never know who did it."

"Unless your mask slips. Or someone recognizes your fighting style. Or Sekar figures it out."

"Sekar won’t know. I’ll tell her I’m training with Network. She’s busy with guild management. Won’t question it."

"You’re lying to your wife to enter illegal tournament to fight your rival anonymously. You see how this sounds?"

"I see opportunity to resolve conflict without legal complications. Are you helping or not?"

Yanto sighed heavily. "What do you need?"

"Fighter alias. I’m thinking ’Bayangan’—Shadow. Fake System registration showing Level 40 so I look like underdog. Full face mask with voice modulator. Untraceable credentials. Can you arrange it?"

"The Network has... resources for this kind of thing. Underground contacts. Forgers. We’ve helped members create false identities before for sensitive operations." Another pause. "But Rama—if this goes wrong, if you’re exposed, the legal problems multiply exponentially. Criminal charges for tournament participation. Association sanctions. Sekar’s reputation damaged. Are you sure?"

"Completely sure. Hendra needs to be humiliated. Shown he’s not as strong as he thinks. This is perfect opportunity."

"And the System cache item prize? You interested in that?"

"Secondary concern. Primary goal is beating Hendra."

"Okay. I’ll arrange everything. Meet me at the warehouse tonight. We’ll create your Bayangan identity."

"Thank you."

"Don’t thank me. If Sekar finds out I helped you lie to her, she’ll kill both of us."

The call ended.

Rama looked at the invitation again. Three days until tournament. Thirty-two fighters. Single elimination meant five rounds to reach finals.

If brackets were kind, he’d face Hendra in the final round. Perfect stage for maximum humiliation.

If brackets were unkind, earlier round. Less dramatic but still effective.

Either way, Hendra Wijaya was about to learn that the "dead weight" he’d mocked was far more dangerous than he’d ever suspected.

That evening, Rama told Sekar he was meeting with Network for classified training exercise.

"How long?" she asked, looking up from administrative paperwork that seemed to multiply hourly.

"Few hours. Maybe overnight depending on exercise complexity. Yanto’s coordinating."

"Be safe. Don’t do anything stupid."

"Never." The lie came easier than it should have. But necessary. She’d forbid tournament participation if she knew. Better to ask forgiveness than permission.

He kissed her goodbye and headed to the Network warehouse.

Yanto had everything prepared. False credentials. Fighter registration documents. A mask that covered his entire face—black material with silver accents, built-in voice modulator that would make him unrecognizable.

"Bayangan," Yanto said, handing over the identity packet. "Bayangan. Level 40 B-rank fighter. No guild affiliation. Mysteriously appeared on tournament scene. Perfect underdog story."

"Level 40 instead of my real 50?"

"Makes you look weaker. Better for underdog narrative. Also hides Champion status. If you register as 50, people might connect dots."

Rama tried on the mask. It fit perfectly. Sealed completely. Voice modulator activated.

"Testing," he said. His voice came out distorted. Deeper. Unrecognizable. "Perfect."

"Outfit’s here too. Dark tactical gear. Unmarked. Anonymous. Nothing traceable to you or Eternal Bond."

"And registration?"

"Already submitted. Bayangan, Level 40, accepted into tournament. You fight day after tomorrow. First round draw happens tomorrow night."

"Excellent work."

"Yeah, well, when this blows up in your face, remember I warned you." Yanto crossed his arms. "Seriously though—are you sure about lying to Sekar? She’s your wife. Your partner. Deception feels wrong."

"It’s temporary deception to protect her. Plausible deniability. If Association investigates tournament and discovers participants, she can honestly say she didn’t know her husband competed. That protects her guild master position."

"Or she figures it out, realizes you lied, and the yandere wife energy turns against you."

"Risk I’m willing to take. Beating Hendra is worth it."

Yanto shook his head but handed over the final documents. "Your draw number is 17. You’ll find out your first-round opponent tomorrow night. Tournament starts the day after. Good luck. You’ll need it."

"I won’t need luck. I have Timeline 1 experience and Champion abilities. These underground fighters are amateurs compared to what I’ve faced."

"Overconfidence is dangerous."

"It’s not overconfidence when you’ve literally died fighting Level 167 void entities and came back. Underground tournament fighters are children’s games by comparison."

Rama left the warehouse with his Bayangan identity secure. Three days until he could fight Hendra anonymously. Three days until he could prove the "dead weight" was anything but.

He returned home late to find Sekar already asleep. Exhausted from administrative chaos. He slipped into bed beside her, guilt gnawing slightly.

Lying to her feels wrong. But protecting her from legal complications feels right. Temporary deception for greater good.

His phone buzzed. Message from tournament organizers.

The Syndicate: Registration confirmed. BAYANGAN (Lv 40). First round draw tomorrow 8 PM. Arena location will be sent 24 hours before first fight. Welcome to the Underground.

Rama deleted the message and set his phone aside.

Tomorrow night he’d learn his first opponent. The day after, tournament began. And somewhere in the bracket, Hendra Wijaya waited.

The man who’d called him dead weight.

The man who’d insulted Sekar publicly.

The man who’d murdered trial candidates for political leverage.

But before that death, Hendra would face humiliation. Defeat. The realization that he’d mocked someone far stronger than himself.

And he’d never know it was Rama who destroyed him.

Because Bayangan—left no traces.

Just broken opponents and shattered arrogance.

Perfect.

Rama closed his eyes, already planning strategies for potential matchups.

Three days.

Then the underground tournament began.

And Hendra’s humiliation countdown started.

The Association wanted de-escalation?

They were about to get escalation. Just anonymously delivered.

Sometimes the best revenge was the kind your enemy never saw coming.

And Bayangan was about to demonstrate exactly that.