Chapter 28
Sam sat on the edge of his hospital bed, anxiety weighing heavily on him. Earlier, he had seen several men burst into the building, searching every room and corridor with intensity. From the way they moved, it wasn't hard to guess—they were looking for someone. And deep down, Sam was sure it was the hero who had saved him.
But why? What did they want with him?
Nothing good, that much Sam could tell.
A soft knock pulled him out of his thoughts. He stood and made his way to the door, slowly turning the handle. When he opened it, no one was there.
Confused, he stepped outside and looked around—but the hallway was empty. Just as he was about to close the door, his foot bumped something on the floor. Looking down, his breath caught.
Two brand-new tickets to Play Park—the same ones he and his little sister had dreamed of visiting before he was attacked. The same ones that were torn to shreds by the gang.
Tears welled up in Sam's eyes. Only one person knew about those tickets.
Only one person could have done this.
He clenched the tickets tightly, his voice trembling with emotion.
"Thank you, Hero!"
Down the hallway, unseen, a hooded figure paused mid-step. He shook his head slightly, a soft sigh escaping his lips.
"I've told him… I'm no hero."
Then he turned and walked away from the hospital, vanishing into the city streets.
---
The farther Ronan walked through the city streets, the more "WANTED" posters with his face plastered on them he saw. His image was everywhere now. The situation was escalating faster than he had anticipated.
With a sigh, he looked up at the sky. If I stay here any longer, they'll find me. I need to move—soon. Out of all five continents, only the Northern Continent had the weakest hero guild presence.
"I guess it's time to head north," he muttered to himself.
---
Meanwhile, in Serenya—
A figure soared through the skies, a blur of speed and freedom. His white and black hair whipped in the wind as he weaved through the clouds, occasionally brushing against birds mid-flight just for fun.
A joyful giggle sounded from behind him.
Xin,his younger sister clung to his back, laughing with pure delight.
"Faster, faster!Go faster!" she cried.
He smiled and picked up speed, streaking toward Serenya like a comet.
Once a modest city, Serenya had transformed into a booming top-tier metropolis. Towering buildings, research facilities, and advanced hospitals now filled the skyline—largely thanks to the brilliance and financial stewardship of Clara, the city's leading force. Her clever use of beast core trades and portal resources had turned Serenya into a thriving center of progress.
Han landed directly at the towering Guild building, where bold letters on the roof spelled: TRYST.
Inside, chaos reigned—Aiden was at it again.
BAM! CRASH!
Another guild member flew across the room, crashing into a wall from Aiden's morphing punch. When they rushed to check on him, he was already unconscious.
"Tch… these guys are getting weaker," Aiden muttered, clearly bored.
The guild members groaned, silently cursing. It's not that we're getting weaker—it's that you're getting ridiculously strong!
Ron wasn't any better. His overwhelming physical strength and defense made sparring with him a one-way trip to unconsciousness. Most members couldn't even take three hits before blacking out. To them, training felt more like state-sanctioned torture.
Their only salvation? Serenya's advanced hospital, which treated them at nearly no cost. Without it, they'd probably be lying in graves, not recovery beds.
When Han entered, Aiden looked up and grinned.
"Hey, man. You're getting more handsome every time I see you," Aiden teased, clearly jealous of Han's looks.
Han laughed and greeted them both warmly, then asked how the guild members were doing,— Though he could tell they weren't improving as fast as he'd hoped, it made sense—most of them were C- and D-rank, with only a few having B-rank skills.
He wanted to help them grow stronger, maybe even upgrade their skills… but the old man had warned him: too much power too fast could cause irreversible damage later on.
Even if he wanted to boost them now, he'd need a large amount of EP—and portal activity had slowed considerably in the region.
Fewer portals meant fewer battles, and fewer battles meant fewer opportunities to grow.
After chatting with Ron and Aiden, Han soared through the skies toward another key figure in the city. As he flew, he sighed, his gaze settling on a massive facility below—a place once known mockingly as the "Lone Lab." Back then, it barely resembled a lab at all, more like a junkyard. But now, under Clara's relentless efforts, it had transformed into a state-of-the-art research facility.
Han landed and stepped inside.
The interior was a fusion of brilliance and chaos. Robotic suits hung along the walls, suspended like armored sentinels. Floating holographic screens displayed streams of data. Scientists in white coats hustled about, adjusting equipment and shouting over each other.
Han couldn't help but smile. He used to think Clara was just a mad genius. But now he knew better. Her ambition was real—insane, yes—but driven by something deeper.
She had been born a "Zero," someone unable to awaken any skills. Even when Han had tried sending skills to her, her body had rejected them. Her family had insisted she remain behind and study, but Clara had other dreams. She wanted to become a HERO—a warrior. And without natural talent, she forged her own path: by creating combat suits.
Over the years, Clara had built dozens of prototypes. Many failed spectacularly; a few succeeded. Han looked around the lab, wondering just how much money had been poured into this vision.
Just then, a loud explosion shook the facility. A figure came crashing through a wall of reinforced metal, smoke trailing behind her. Her body was scorched, clothes charred—but she stood back up.
It was Clara.
The other scientists barely reacted. This, clearly, was routine.
Han walked over. "What were you doing this time?"
She didn't respond. Instead, she sprinted back into the testing room. Curious, Han followed—and stopped cold at the sight before him.
Suspended in the center of the room was a new suit: sleek, white with golden linings, its frame outlined by glowing wires and intricate circuitry. Clara stood in front of it, furiously typing commands into a console.
"What is this one?" Han asked.
Clara barely looked up. "This… is the Armor Suit 2.0."
Han raised a brow. "Wasn't the last one called 1.0?"
"Exactly. This one's stronger—faster. But I'm trying to fuse a higher-tier crystal core into it. It keeps causing instability. If I can't maintain synchronization, it explodes."
As if on cue, another explosion erupted, forcing Han to grab Xin and teleport them out just in time. They landed outside the lab, Xin coughing while Clara stumbled out behind them.
Han sighed. Over the past few weeks, he'd developed a number of skills, and teleportation was one of them. "I just hope she doesn't blow herself up one day," he muttered, before taking flight again.
Next stop: the Weapon Forge.
The sound of hammering filled the air as Han entered the forge. The scent of molten metal and beast cores mingled with the intense heat. Blacksmiths moved in rhythm, pouring cores into furnaces, shaping metals, and forging weapons with practiced hands.
But out of everyone, one man stood out—Nathan, a seasoned blacksmith wielding dual metal arms. He worked with brutal efficiency, sweat gleaming on his forehead.
Sensing Han's presence, Nathan looked up. "Young Master," he said, nodding.
Han chuckled. "You don't have to be so formal."
They exchanged greetings, and Han got to the point. "Have you crafted anything that suits me yet?"
Nathan shook his head. "I've forged lots of weapons, but nothing matches your gauntlet-type fighting style. Most beast cores we have just aren't compatible."
Han wasn't too surprised. With so many skills in his arsenal, it was hard to find a weapon that complemented his full potential. Still, he remained focused on his preferred fighting style—Jungle Art.
Boosting the skills to A-rank had made him extremely powerful. Sometimes, he wondered how he'd fare against a Class-S Hero. But he hadn't had the chance to test that yet.
After a few more minutes of chatting, Han left, heading to his final destination: the old man's house.
He dropped Xin off at home and teleported into the old man's courtyard. The elder, as always, was sipping his green tea.
"You're back," the man said, gesturing for Han to sit.
Han took a seat, sipping the tea in silence. Together, they watched the bustling streets of Serenya from the porch.
"I've come a long way," Han said softly.
The elder smiled. "And I'm proud of you."
But to be honest, he didn't do this alone. He had people supporting him and they helped him achieve all these.
Han nodded. He'd upheld his responsibilities—make Serenya a city with proper guilds, health centers, and structure. People no longer suffered as they once had. For once, he felt peace.
Finally… some peace, Han thought.
Just then, a young boy burst into the courtyard, panting heavily and drenched in sweat. Han instantly recognized him—Chips, Rin's best friend.
"What's wrong?" Han asked.
Chips tried to catch his breath. "I have bad news… and worse news."
Han groaned inwardly. "I thought I was finally getting a break."
"Alright, what's the bad news?"
Chips took a deep breath. "Rin and I were playing tag near the city's edge… when a portal suddenly appeared. Rin got sucked in. He hasn't come back."
Han's expression darkened.
The elder asked, "And the worse news?"
Chips' face paled even more. "The portal… it wasn't a normal one."
"It was a red portal."
To be continued.