The notification chimed at exactly midnight, jolting Laurel awake. He grabbed his phone and checked the Adventurer App, careful not to wake Nelson who was sleeping soundly in the adjacent bed.
**SCOUT MISSION - URGENT**
**Required Personnel: 2 Scouts**
**Status: 1 Scout already deployed**
**Location: Warehouse District, Sector 12**
**Time Limit: Report immediately**
Laurel quickly dressed, grabbed his gear, and slipped out of the hotel room. The streets of Blackwater Ridge were nearly empty at this hour, making his journey to the warehouse district quick and uneventful.
When he arrived at the coordinates, something felt wrong immediately. The warehouse was there, and the portal was active—its familiar swirling energy illuminating the empty space. But there were no military personnel. No guards. No security whatsoever.
That was highly unusual. Every portal was supposed to be heavily guarded.
Pushing his concerns aside, Laurel stepped through the portal.
The transition was disorienting as always, but what greeted him on the other side was even more unsettling. He found himself standing in front of a modern Japanese-style house—traditional architecture but with contemporary touches. What made it truly bizarre was that everything, absolutely everything, was pure white. The walls, the doors, the furniture visible through the windows—all of it was the same pristine, almost luminescent white.
Laurel approached cautiously and pushed open the front door, which swung inward silently.
Inside, a man was examining what looked like a living room. He turned as Laurel entered, and his expression was professional but tense.
"You are the second Scout?" the man asked.
"Yeah. Laurel. What's the situation?"
"Name's Takeshi," the man replied, gesturing around. "As you can see, this entire place is... unusual. I've checked most of the rooms. There's nothing here—no people, no valuables, no threats. Just furniture. All white. All spotless."
"Then why did they send two of us?"
Takeshi's expression darkened. "Because there is one thing. A girl, who looks about sixteen to eighteen years old, is sleeping in one of the bedrooms. I haven't touched her or gone too close. Wanted backup before making any decisions."
"Have you reported this to the command?"
"About to do that now. Wait here."
Takeshi pulled out a specialized communication device and moved to another room to make his report. Laurel watched him go, then his curiosity got the better of him. He moved quietly through the white hallway until he found the bedroom Takeshi had mentioned.
The door was already ajar. Inside, lying on a white bed in a white room, was a young girl exactly as described. She appeared to be in a deep sleep, her breathing shallow and slow.
But something was wrong.
Laurel had been training himself to sense vital energy ever since mastering Pulse Control, and what he sensed from this girl sent alarm bells ringing through his mind.
Her vital energy was almost completely depleted. Dangerously low. And worse—her Pulse Nodes were nearly closed, so tightly sealed that almost no energy was flowing through her body at all.
She was dying.
Without those nodes open, without vital energy flowing, her body would shut down completely. She had maybe hours left, possibly less.
Laurel stepped into the room, his mind racing. This wasn't just someone sleeping. This was someone on the verge of death from energy depletion. How had this happened? Has someone sealed her nodes deliberately? Was this some kind of prison or punishment?
He knew what he should do—wait for instructions, don't interfere with the mission parameters, let command make the decisions.
But he also knew that by the time the command made a decision, this girl would be dead.
Before he could second-guess himself, Laurel moved to the bedside and placed his hand on her forehead.
The moment his skin made contact with hers, he felt it—a pull, like a vacuum. His vital energy began flowing out of him and into her, rushing through the connection faster than he could have imagined possible.
Panicking, Laurel yanked his hand away, breaking the contact.
But the damage was done. In less than a second, he had lost enough vital energy to sustain him for approximately two years. He could feel the depletion immediately—a hollowness, a weakness he'd never experienced before.
The girl's eyes fluttered open. Color returned to her pale cheeks. Her Pulse Nodes, which had been nearly sealed, began opening slightly, allowing the new energy to circulate.
She looked up at Laurel with confused, frightened eyes.
At that exact moment, Takeshi burst back into the room, his face furious.
"What the hell did you just do?!" he shouted. "I was just told by the chairman of the World Union himself—we are to leave this portal immediately without any physical contact with the girl! Do you understand what you've done?"
Before Laurel could respond, a weak voice filled the room.
"Help me," the girl whispered, her hand reaching toward Laurel. "Please... help me..."
Takeshi's expression twisted with rage. In his hand, vital energy coalesced and solidified into the shape of a handgun—a Creation technique that showed he was far from amateur level.
"You've compromised the entire mission!" Takeshi snarled, and pulled the trigger.
The shot went wide, deliberately or not, but Laurel didn't wait to find out. He immediately grabbed the girl and pulled her down to the floor with him, using the bed as cover.
His mind worked frantically. He was weakened from the energy transfer. Fighting at full capacity wasn't an option. He needed an advantage.
Laurel created a knife—the technique came easily despite his depleted state—and in one smooth motion, hurled it at the room's single light source. The blade struck true, shattering the bulb and plunging the room into darkness.
Then Laurel did something that required precise control: he closed all his Pulse Nodes completely.
With no vital energy leaking from his body, he became effectively invisible to anyone using energy sensing. In the pitch-black room, Takeshi would have no way to locate him.
Laurel remained perfectly still, controlling his breathing. Then, carefully, he opened just his ocular nodes—the Pulse Nodes connected to his eyes—and channeled a tiny amount of vital energy into them. The technique was subtle, draining almost nothing, but it enhanced his vision enough to see the faint glow of Takeshi's vital energy in the darkness.
The other Scout was moving cautiously, trying to get a read on Laurel's position.
Silently, like a ghost, Laurel stood and began moving. Each step was calculated, placed carefully to avoid making any sound on the wooden floor. He circled around behind Takeshi, getting closer, closer...
When he was within arm's reach, Laurel struck.
He grabbed Takeshi's gun hand and twisted it upward, putting it in a position where any shot fired would hit the ceiling or walls rather than a person. At the same moment, he applied pressure to the wrist joint.
The bone snapped with an audible crack.
Takeshi screamed and dropped the energy construct gun, which dissipated immediately. But he wasn't finished. With his other hand, he created a sword—another Creation technique—and thrust it backward blindly, trying to impale Laurel.
Laurel had anticipated this. He released Takeshi's broken wrist and moved smoothly to the side, the blade passing harmlessly by him. Using the momentum from his dodge, Laurel brought the edge of his palm down on Takeshi's neck—a precise strike to a specific pressure point.
Takeshi's eyes rolled back, and he collapsed unconscious.
Laurel stood in the darkness, breathing hard, his depleted energy making even this brief fight exhausting. He looked toward where the girl had been.
"Are you hurt?" he asked.
"N-no," came the trembling reply.
Laurel quickly removed his sweater—it was oversized and would cover her adequately. In the darkness, he carefully helped her put it on, trying not to look directly at her. She had been completely naked, lying on that white bed like some kind of offering or prisoner. The sweater hung on her like a blanket, covering her down past her thighs.
"Can you walk?" he asked.
She tried to stand but her legs gave out immediately. The vital energy he'd transferred was enough to keep her conscious, but she was far too weak to move on her own.
Without hesitation, Laurel scooped her up in his arms, carrying her like she weighed nothing. She was light—dangerously light, as if she hadn't eaten in weeks.
He moved quickly through the white house and back toward the portal. The girl rested her head against his chest, her breathing shallow but steady.
As they stepped through the portal and emerged back in the warehouse, Laurel's blood ran cold.
The warehouse was now surrounded by military personnel. Dozens of armed soldiers, all positioned around the portal, all with their weapons ready. The moment Laurel appeared with the girl in his arms, every gun shifted to point directly at him.
But they didn't fire.
They didn't move to intercept.
Laurel understood immediately—they couldn't act here. The warehouse was in a populated area of Blackwater Ridge, near enough to main streets that gunfire would attract attention. In a lawless city, that might not matter to most organizations, but the military couldn't risk exposure of the portal system or the adventurer organization to the general public.
The soldiers simply watched, their weapons trained on him but their fingers off the triggers, as he walked past them carrying the unconscious girl.
The message was clear: we're letting you go for now, but you're a marked man.
Laurel didn't run—running would make him look more suspicious to any civilians who might be watching. He walked with purpose but did not panic, carrying the girl through the warehouse district streets until he was certain he wasn't being followed.
Then he made his way back to his apartment, taking side streets and alleys, constantly checking behind him.
In a dark office in an undisclosed location, a man sat behind an ornate desk. His face was obscured by shadows, the only light in the room coming from a small desk lamp that illuminated the papers before him but left his features hidden.
Another man stood before the desk, waiting silently.
The shadowed figure picked up a file folder—marked with a red "S" indicating an S-rank mission—and slid it across the desk. The folder fell open, revealing a photograph and detailed information.
**TARGET: Laurel**
**Rank: Elite Scout**
**Mission Classification: S-Rank**
**Bounty: 1,000,000 Ecoins**
**Crime: Unauthorized contact with classified asset, assault on fellow Scout, violation of direct orders from World Union chairman**
**Objective: Capture alive if possible. Eliminate if necessary.**
"One million Ecoins," the shadowed man said, his voice cold and measured. "This is your next assignment, Marvel. The target made contact with something he shouldn't have, and now he's running with highly classified cargo. I want him found before he can cause any more damage."
The man standing before the desk—Marvel—stepped forward slightly into the light as he picked up the file. His features were sharp and angular, with cold, calculating eyes that suggested a professional who had never failed a mission. His expression remained completely neutral as he scanned the contents.
Inside was everything they had on Laurel—his last known location, his abilities, his known associates including his brother Nelson, detailed analysis of his fighting style from the training evaluation, everything.
"He's Elite rank," Marvel noted, his voice devoid of emotion. "Fresh promotion, but his combat assessment shows high-level Creation techniques and exceptional tactical thinking. He defeated a fellow Scout in close quarters while energy-depleted."
"Are you concerned?" the shadowed figure asked.
Marvel closed the file. "No. Just ensuring I'm properly informed."
He turned to leave, but the shadowed man spoke again.
"Marvel. The girl he took—under no circumstances is to be harmed. She must be recovered intact. The target, however, is expendable if capture proves impossible."
"Understood," Marvel replied, and walked out of the office into the darkness beyond.