System Mission: Seduce the Strongest S-Class Hunters or Die Trying!-Chapter 68: [SINGLEHANDEDLY]

Caelen was struggling.

Struggling so hard he could barely feel his legs.

Every step sent fire tearing through his body. His cracked skin throbbed with searing heat, every pulse of molten light threatening to split him apart. His vision blurred, his breath ragged.

He knew he’d fucked up the moment he laid eyes on the priest—that monstrous thing had never been an A-Class boss.

Its weight, its pressure, its sheer killing intent... it was closer to S-Class. Maybe worse.

And had Elione not been there—his instincts, his plans, his reckless interference—Caelen knew the truth. Even if Lion’s Fang had been with him, they would’ve struggled.

Some of them might not have survived.

But with Elione alone... he had cleared it.

Barely.

Caelen wanted to collapse where he stood. His body screamed for rest, his core overdrawn until pain flooded every nerve like acid. He’d pushed his ability far beyond its limits.

And yet—despite the agony ripping him apart, despite the weight of exhaustion crushing him—he still carried Elione.

The boy’s body was limp against his arms, unconscious but alive. That fact alone kept Caelen moving forward, one boot crunching against broken stone, then another.

The gate shimmered behind him. He stepped through.

And froze.

He had expected only a few reporters. His guildmates. Maybe Association cleanup.

But fate was cruel.

The moment Caelen emerged, blinding light exploded from camera flashes, wave after wave of them firing like gunfire.

A sea of reporters screamed his name, their microphones thrust forward like spears.

And beyond them—Midas Ryu himself stood tall, surrounded by Association scientists, machines whirring red with warning. Guards lined the barricades. And beside him, molten-eyed and thunderous as ever, Zacharias Kim—Guild Master of Lion’s Fang.

The weight of it sank into Caelen instantly.

A strange phenomenon had occurred. His suspicion was right.

The A-Class had mutated into S-Class.

And everyone was here to see it.

’Smile.’ Caelen told himself, even as his ribs screamed, even as blood dripped inside his throat. ’The cameras are watching. I have to smile.’

So he did.

The corners of his lips curled upward, calm and effortless—masking the fact that every second felt like his body was breaking apart.

The flashing intensified, cheers mixing with frantic questions. The crowd, as always, was awed by him.

"Caelen!" Jabby’s cry split through the noise. She was the first to break the line, sprinting toward him with wide, teary eyes.

Arman and Punzo weren’t far behind, their relief written clear across their faces as they rushed in beside her.

’Keep smiling.’ Caelen ordered himself again, his jaw stiff. His arms burned from the weight of the unconscious hunter he carried, but he didn’t falter.

He couldn’t.

Because even Zacharias was moving closer, his eyes narrowing sharply at him. And beside him, Midas Ryu advanced with that perfect, reassuring smile of his.

The circle closed. The pressure mounted.

Caelen’s smile didn’t falter.

But behind it, his thoughts were raw, seething, honest.

’God. Fuck. I want to rest.’

Yet still—he smiled.

"Caelen—what happened?!"

Arman’s voice cut through the noise first, sharp and ragged, his eyes flicking over every glowing fissure in Caelen’s body before locking on the limp figure in his arms.

"Oh my god. Elione’s hurt?" Jabby shoved past Punzo, her face pale, voice breaking. Her eyes widened with panic as she hovered close, almost reaching out but too afraid to touch. "Elione—he’s not—he’s not dead, right?! What happened in there? Why did the feed cut off?!"

Punzo leaned in as well, his usual careless grin gone, replaced with a hardened glare.

His voice was steady but low, edged with something dangerous. "Tell us straight, Captain. What the hell happened?"

Caelen’s jaw twitched. His grip on Elione’s unconscious body tightened, the weight dragging against his burning arms.

Every nerve screamed at him to let go, to collapse where he stood—but his posture remained unbroken.

Before he could speak—

"Move."

The command dropped like a blade.

Zacharias.

He cut through the crowd of guild members, his broad frame casting a shadow over them. His molten-orange gaze seared into Caelen’s, demanding, merciless. "Report. Now."

But again—he wasn’t given the chance.

The wall of reporters surged closer, a storm of voices crashing over him. Microphones lunged forward, cameras flashed relentlessly, questions tore into him like claws.

"Caelen, did you know this dungeon would mutate?!"

"Caelen, what’s the condition of Elione Noa Ahn?!"

"Caelen, how could an A-Class gate turn into S-Class?!"

The noise was suffocating, a thousand questions piercing the air all at once.

Zacharias snapped his fingers sharply, the sound cracking like a whip. "Arman. Medic. Now."

"Yes, sir!" Arman shot off instantly, boots pounding against fractured stone as he pushed through the barricades.

Caelen’s head throbbed, the questions stabbing deeper with every word, every flash of white light from the cameras.

His body screamed for silence. His vision blurred around the edges. He wanted to roar, to smash the cameras into the concrete, to collapse and finally let the fire inside him consume him.

Instead—he smiled.

That perfect, practiced smile that had carried him through years of scrutiny. His lips curved, steady, hiding the fury gnawing at his bones.

"After the grotesques, which I assume was the only fight the drones were able to catch," Caelen began, voice cutting evenly through the chaos, "a quake hit. The floor collapsed, dragging us beneath the crypt."

The noise dulled.

Reporters stilled, mics thrust closer. Zacharias’ eyes narrowed. And even Midas Ryu, calm as stone behind the front line of guards, tilted his head with keen interest.

"We were ambushed by several high-class monsters," Caelen continued, subtly shifting Elione’s weight against his chest. "And the dungeon boss..." His molten gaze narrowed, his smile sharpening to a thin line. "Wasn’t A-Class at all."

Gasps exploded through the crowd.

"It was an S-Class statue priest," Caelen said flatly. "Its guardians were gargoyles. They only moved when you weren’t looking at them. And the priest itself..." His molten cracks pulsed faintly, betraying a flicker of pain. "...It only attacked when you gave it attention."

Shouts rose immediately—

"Gargoyles?!"

"A priest?! That’s a new class of monsters!"

"Do you think this is connected to the tears?!"

The frenzy spiked again. Reporters jostled each other, their voices layering into chaos.

Zacharias’ voice cut through it, low and sharp. "And Elione? How did he end up like that?"

Caelen’s smile didn’t falter. "He got caught in the collapse while I was handling the priest."

The storm broke louder. Flashes blinded. The press surged forward, hungrier than ever.

"How did you clear it?!" one reporter cried.

"Was it teamwork?!" another demanded.

"An S-Class boss—how the hell did you survive?!"

The voices pressed in like waves, crashing harder and harder.

Caelen’s body was ready to fall apart. His chest burned like molten glass, his vision doubled, every muscle felt carved open.

But his smirk curved wider.

He let the noise climb, let the tension choke the air around them, until every camera focused on nothing but him.

And then—his voice cut clean through, smooth and unshakable.

"I singlehandedly defeated the boss."

The air shattered.

The crowd froze, gasps colliding with the endless flash of cameras. The lie—or truth—hit like a hammer.

Caelen stood tall, molten cracks flickering faintly across his skin, his chest heaving beneath the weight of exhaustion.

He looked proud, every inch the untouchable S-Class Hunter who had just carried a miracle on his shoulders.

But the truth bled from every strained vein in his body. His grip on Elione was too tight, his knees threatened to buckle, and the fire that once roared in his aura now sputtered low, dangerously close to burning out.

Still—as usual, he continued to smile.

From the corner of his vision, Caelen caught Punzo and Jabby exchanging quick, worried glances.

Their eyes weren’t fooled. Jabby’s lips trembled, her gaze flicking from Caelen’s fractured skin to the unconscious hunter in his arms.

But Caelen ignored it.

He was going to deal with them later.