Chapter 235: The hidden one

The executive council chamber on the ninety-fifth floor of the International Exterminator corporations Headquarters was built like an impenetrable vault. Thick panes of polarized smart-glass spanned the eastern wall, looking out over the endless, glittering metropolis of the capital, while four-foot-thick plates of reinforced titanium and anti-mana dampening alloy sealed the room from the outside world.

Commander James Maddox sat alone on the southern side of the massive, circular obsidian conference table.

His posture was relaxed, his hands resting loosely on the table, but his sharp brown eyes were entirely stripped of their customary warmth. The boyish, cheerful smile he wore to appease junior officers and public reporters had vanished. In its place was a chilling, ancient stillness—the demeanor of a sovereign observing a room full of vipers.

Maddox tapped his index finger against the dark stone table, his thoughts turning back to the incident that had taken place just hours ago in Area 5.

Hide Volter had been led into what was supposed to be 3-Star loop gate. Yet, the spatial coordinates had buckled under an external distortion, mutating the environment into a lethal 4-Star territory inhabited by a B-Rank Calamity Lord. If not for Claire and her team diving into the breach to extract them, those three would have been slaughtered down to the last bone.

’An accident?’ Maddox sneered inwardly.

Loop gates did not advance in rank by pure chance. First, the anomaly at Hide’s awakening in Area 17; then the spatial distortion at Facility 7; then his fall into the three star dungeon gate and now a full-scale dimensional override into a 4-Star death zone. The boy was being methodically, relentlessly hunted by forces unknown.

Yet, against all statistical probability, Hide had not broken. The boy’s Unique Class—that boundless, incomprehensible Infinity symbol were beyond anything Maddox had seen in a human since. Hide was a mirror of his own past, yet infinitely more volatile.

Maddox shifted his gaze across the table, fixing his eyes upon the elderly man seated opposite him.

Walter Bigiva, the 1st Commander of the International Exterminator Corporation.

To the public, Walter was revered as humanity’s living apex—the pinnacle of human martial strength, an S-Rank legend whose word held more weight than entire continental treaties. In the eyes of the media and the international council, Walter was the strongest Exterminator alive... provided, of course, that James Maddox was excluded from the ledger.

Maddox looked at the old man’s weathered face, feeling only a cold, detached amusement.

The world believed Maddox was simply an extraordinary S-Rank who only preserved his youthful appearance outside. But that was a carefully maintained lie. If humanity knew the truth—that Maddox had been walking this earth for nearly two hundred years, that his true name was Vincent Graeyhart, they would not view him as a protector. They would see him as an unnatural, ageless abomination.

From the day his talent had truly awakened, biological aging had ceased to hold any dominion over him. His authority allowed him to manipulate, harvest, and store raw life force across distinct internal cores within his body. He could harvest the life essence of fallen enemies, sustaining his physical prime for eternity while growing progressively stronger with every passing decade.

In his youth, the temptation of boundless immortality had seemed like a divine blessing. But two centuries of endless war had turned that blessing into an agonizing curse. He had outlived his mentors, his friends, his lovers, and his students. He had watched brilliant minds wither into ash while he remained unchanged, burdened with forbidden knowledge that no mortal mind was ever meant to bear.

Through those two hundred years of bloodshed, Maddox had learned one undeniable truth: the grotesque Calamity Beasts that crawled out from the void of Rilth were simple creatures driven by primal hunger. The truly dangerous monsters were the ones who wore suits, sat behind polished conference tables, and hid their rot beneath human skin.

Monsters exactly like Walter Bigiva.

"Let’s dispense with the pleasantries, Walter," Maddox said, his voice flat, devoid of any theatricality. "I came to the Central Continent for direct answers. What is the International Corporation’s involvement with the surveillance on Hide Volter? And what did you know of Erin Volter?"

Walter Bigiva leaned back in his leather chair, a slow, mocking smirk stretching across his wrinkled features. He casually picked up the thick confidential dossier Maddox had placed on the table, flipping through the surveillance logs.

With a sharp flick of his wrist, Walter tossed the file back onto the obsidian stone, letting the papers scatter across the surface.

"This kid seems mildly interesting, Maddox, but the International Corporation has no knowledge of these so-called operations," Walter answered, his tone dripping with condescending arrogance. "And as for this Erin Volter... we have no idea who she is. A low-tier researcher from a provincial border branch is hardly worth our institutional memory."

Maddox didn’t blink.

To anyone else, Walter’s dismissal might have sounded like bureaucratic ignorance. But to Maddox, who had seen the International Corporation’s illicit conduits for decades, Walter’s smirk was an absolute confirmation of guilt.

A terrifying, suffocating silence gripped the council chamber.

Without raising a hand or shifting his posture, Maddox opened the floodgates of his aura. Dense, blinding white mana leaked silently from his skin, falling onto the floor like liquid mercury. The atmospheric pressure in the room skyrocketed instantly, causing the titanium wall panels to groan and warp under the crushing weight.

Across the table, Walter’s smirk vanished. His eyes narrowed into cold, venomous slits as thick, dark-violet mana erupted from his core, coiling around his arms and shoulders like a nest of agitated serpents. The violent clash of white and violet energies began to tear microscopic fractures into the obsidian table between them.

"PLEASE STOP!"

BANG!

The Commander of the Central Continent National Exterminator Agency, a younger man seated to the left, slammed both palms heavily against the table, his face pale with cold sweat.

"Can you two truly afford to fight each other?!" the Commander shouted, his voice trembling as he struggled to breathe beneath the overlapping S-Rank auras. "In times like these?! Have you looked at the global telemetry reports this quarter?! Gate activity across all continents has increased by eighty percent over the last three years alone!"

The Central Commander looked desperately between Maddox and Walter. "The containment grids are failing in the lower sectors! It will not be long before a catastrophic breach on the scale of the Massacre of Tarita repeats itself!"

Maddox held Walter’s gaze for three long seconds before slowly reeling his white mana back into his body, the crushing gravity receding from the room.

Walter scoffed, dispelling his violet serpents with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Hmm. A waste of time," Walter said coldly, standing up from his chair and smoothing the front of his formal coat. "I have far more important affairs to oversee than entertaining paranoia."

Without offering another word or acknowledging the Central Commander, Walter turned on his heel and strode out of the council chamber, the heavy reinforced doors sealing shut behind him.

Exiting the executive tower, Walter Bigiva did not head toward the private helipad or his corporate penthouse.

Instead, he entered an unmarked service lift at the end of the corridor. Swiping a black, unencoded clearance card against the hidden panel, he initiated a deep vertical descent. The elevator bypassed the public administrative floors, plummeted through the containment bunkers, and plunged miles beneath the bedrock of the Central Continent.

The lift arrived at the lowest sub-level with a heavy hydraulic hiss.

Walter stepped out into a damp, freezing limestone cavern. He walked down a narrow, forgotten tunnel where the modern steel walls gave way to ancient, cyclopean stonework carved centuries before the first modern cities were founded.

As he progressed deeper, the air grew thick with a rancid, suffocating stench of decayed dark mana and reptilian musk. Thousands of pitch-black, glowing-eyed serpents slithered across the damp flagstones, hissing softly as they parted to allow Walter passage.

The corridor opened into a colossal temple submerged in perpetual twilight. Ancient pillars entwined with writhing viper nests supported the vaulted ceiling, while the floor was covered in an ocean of undulating, venomous snakes.

At the far end of the hall, resting atop a massive, elevated dais, was a throne constructed entirely from calcified, intertwined serpent skeletons.

Seated upon the throne was a horrifying, unnatural figure.

The entity possessed the pale, hairless torso of a bald man, but where a human face should have been, there was only smooth, featureless flesh. He had no eyes, no nose, and no mouth—only an unbroken mask of alabaster skin that pulsed faintly with ancient, divine dark authority.

Walter Bigiva, the supreme commander of the International Corporation, did not stand tall.

He immediately dropped to both knees upon the cold, snake-covered stone, bowing his head in absolute, terrified reverence.

"Your Grace..." Walter whispered, his gravelly voice trembling with submission. "...what do you suggest we do about Maddox and the boy?"

An ethereal, genderless voice resonated directly through the cold air of the temple, echoing from every corner without originating from a throat.

"That man is a persistent problem," the faceless entity spoke, the tone carrying a chilling detachment. "And I am certain the others desire his destruction just as deeply as we do."

The temple went completely silent for a long moment, the only sound being the rhythmic rasp of scales across stone.

"I shall dispatch two of my shadow soldiers to the Eastern Continent," the faceless entity declared, laying down the decree with unyielding finality. "We cannot do direct divine intervention. We must manufacture a scenario for his natural demise within the meat grinder of the gates. We need only construct the path that lures him into their jaws."

The entity’s smooth, featureless head tilted slightly toward Walter.

"And as for the second condition... ensure that Julian carries out the execution of that girl, Claire," the voice commanded, cold as the void. "You gave me your solemn vow that you would make it happen."

Walter pressed his forehead firmly against the freezing stone, closing his eyes as the serpents coiled around his knees.

"Yes," Walter answered, a dark, obedient chill settling over his soul. "As your will commands, Your Grace."