Jorgen had always considered himself a proud man. Not the strongest of his rank, nor someone who boasted legendary feats. Being honest with himself, he knew he was simply… average. Just another hunter in a world saturated with names far brighter than his.So why did he feel so proud? What justified that strange fire that insisted on staying alive inside him?

  The answer was in that soft, fragile little voice, one that lit up with radiant energy every time she saw him walk through the door.

  “Daddy! So you went fwoosh… and then boom! Right? Right?”

  Her voice echoed through the hospital room, innocent as a tinkling bell. She was his daughter. His little Rosa.

  “That’s right, shorty,” he said, puffing out his chest as if he really were a hero. “With these arms you see… I protected those idiots I call teammates.”

  Rosa’s eyes sparkled instantly, as if she had just heard the greatest story in the world.

  “I knew it! Daddy’s the strongest!”

  “I’m not the strongest… yet,” Jorgen said, trying to sound mysterious, as if it were all part of a pn.

  The girl ughed, but the joy cracked in an instant. A harsh cough shook her, brief but sharp, and her tiny body trembled under the hospital gown. Jorgen felt his heart harden.

  “Rosa… breathe slowly, okay? Nice and calm. Just like we practiced,” he murmured, leaning down to rub her back.

  A woman with quiet beauty gently pced her hands on the girl’s shoulders. His wife. His center. She looked at Jorgen, and in that silent exchange, he felt the weight of every lie he had just told.

  Lies he repeated every day. Lies he recited like desperate prayers.

  Because he knew the truth: he wasn’t strong. He wasn’t a hero. He wasn’t anything his daughter believed.

  But if those lies could make her smile one more day… then he was willing to carry them. To live inside them. To believe them himself if necessary.

  No matter how despicable it was to deceive a child like that, he would do it. If it gave him the strength to get up tomorrow and face another day, he would lie ten, a hundred, a thousand times more.

  For her, he would believe in his false greatness. For her, he would fight to make those lies real.

  He would become famous. He would become strong. And he would save her.

  He would bring back the money from the Bizarro. He would get everything they needed.

  And someday… someday they would really walk together along that warm beach she dreamed of, with the sun brushing their bare feet and the salty smell of the sea wrapping around them while Rosa ran, ughing, without coughing, without weakness, without fear.

  She would come home.

  He would come home to his family.

  That was a promise. A truth he would never break. No matter what he had to do.

  And then it spoke. That simple fact was enough to freeze Jorgen’s blood.

  “I-It’s a… Floor Boss. Rank B,” he muttered, barely audible, as if saying it more quietly might make the misfortune disappear.

  But the image of the hummingbird pierced his mind when he looked at the humanoid creature. No… there was a chance, small but real, that it wasn’t a Floor Boss.

  If that were the case… maybe… they could fight it and…

  Once again, that Hana cwed into his thoughts—she had said Bizarros didn’t have the firepower of a Rank B… but were worth more than one, enough for his little—

  “J-Jorgen… what do we do?” Maik whispered, unable to tear his eyes from the creature.

  Jorgen swallowed. He forced firmness into his voice.

  “…Stay calm. Don’t do anything.”

  The creature was still kneeling in front of Lorelley’s corpse, unmoving, staring at them with eyes so empty it felt like it was watching them from another existence. With one arm, it held the stump of the other, as if trying to understand its absence.

  It was wounded. That much was clear. Something had weakened it in a way he didn’t understand. It wouldn’t attack recklessly—that gave him a few precious seconds to analyze the situation.

  Of the little he—as the leader—knew about Rank B Bosses, it was that they were intelligent. Smart enough to analyze situations. Bizarros should share that trait as well.

  “For now, don’t make any sudden movements,” Jorgen ordered, taking a deep breath. “Makina, Marge, keep your eyes on that thing. Everyone else, look for an exit. This looks like… a cave.”

  A massive cavern stretched around them, with walls of bck stone veined with luminescent neon blue that pulsed like open veins of the world itself. The air was humid, thick, and shadows pooled in the crevices as if watching.

  Jorgen turned his head and, through the bluish haze, caught a faint white glow just behind the creature, at the edge of a cliff.

  “The Fissure… That’s the way out.”

  If they could just reach it, they’d be safe. They just had to run… just that… Or maybe they could—

  “Humans… how?” The creature’s voice suddenly echoed, harsh, strained, as if its vocal cords weren’t made for human speech. Anxiety. And a chilling shade of ecstasy.

  The entire group stepped back instinctively. Not because of physical threat… but because of the pressure its voice released. A vibration in the air, like bck electricity raising every hair.

  The creature crouched low, fully hunched over, with one foot forward and the other behind—like a sprinter ready to unch into a bone-shattering sprint.

  And yet, it didn’t seem ready to attack… it felt like it was analyzing the situation, just like they were.

  “Shit,” Jorgen cursed, realizing the creature truly was intelligent. Not just like Lorelley—more human.

  With painstaking care, Jorgen whispered the pn.

  “Guys,” he said softly, “about two hundred meters behind us, there’s a Fissure. I think it’s the exit.”

  “E-Exit? Two… hundred…?” the blue jellyfish stammered. It didn’t understand the concept, but it knew the key word: Exit.

  “W-What?!” Nene spped a hand over her mouth.

  Impossible. Jorgen had practically mouthed the words.Even so, the creature began turning its head, searching the indicated direction, as if it had heard every sylble clearly.

  “B-Boss… do you think that thing wants to escape through the Fissure?” the youngest shield whispered, trembling.

  “We can only hope that if we cross first, the Fissure colpses before it reaches it,” Jorgen murmured.

  “…Sun,” the jellyfish muttered, immediately stepping back to run.

  “No! It’s heading for the Fissure! It figured it out! It must think it’s the only way out! Quick, we have to—!”

  “SUN!”

  The jellyfish fell before taking another step. It colpsed like a torn sack, blood spilling from its mouth and nose. Its body convulsed, drowning in its own air. Its lungs expanded with a sticky, grotesque sound.

  “H-He just dropped!”

  “W-What the hell happened?!”

  Then it came.

  A tidal wave of darkness.

  No warning, no transition, no logic.A dense shadow erupted from the very nothingness above and poured over them like liquid curtains, swallowing light, air, and sound. In a blink, they were sealed inside a bck dome with no origin or exit.

  Their bodies felt strange—heavy yet light at the same time, as if gravity were pying with them.

  “A… Domain…” Jorgen whispered, a cold shiver running down his spine.

  He understood.

  This creature was the Bizarro they were supposed to find.And this… this must be the Domain Hana had mentioned.

  A small smile tugged at his damaged lips, but he erased it quickly. It wasn’t like he was happy to have the perfect excuse to fight with everyone’s support. Not at all…

  He took a deep breath and shouted:

  “Guys! The exit is behind her! I don’t have time to expin, but if we don’t kill her, we’re not getting out of here!”

  “K-Kill? But… maybe we can try talki—”

  “Shut it!” Jorgen barked. “I don’t want to either, but we have no choice!”

  Silence fell like a weight.

  “All right,” he continued, gripping his greatsword, “on my signal, we split up. Two shields in front, guns in the back. I’ll go after you.”

  “Jorgen… I’m low on ammo… I don’t think fighting is our best choice,” Marge said as she loaded her rifle.

  “M-Me neither… M-Maybe we can talk to tha—”

  “Talk? Are you stupid, F-girl?! You can’t talk to that thing! We should find another escape.”

  “I agree with Nene… it hasn’t even attacked yet, maybe—”

  “Escape where?!” Luca shouted, pointing at the bck dome surrounding them. “Do you see an exit? A path? Anything?! There’s NOTHING!”

  Jorgen had had enough of their panicked nonsense.

  “Enough! If we keep wasting time, the Fissure will colpse and we’ll be trapped here. Is that what you want?!”

  No one answered.

  “Good. Let’s take advantage of how weak it looks… and finish it.”

  The creature turned its head as if it had heard every word.

  “Kill… me?” it whispered. “Humans… not kill me. Kill you Arghnipraksma… I will see the sun.”

  With a sickening crack, the jellyfish rose. Its right hand twisted, bone breaking, skin tearing; from the exposed flesh, red gems sprouted, weaving together into a gleaming, unnatural armor.

  The message was clear—approach, and die.

  “Fine… Armadillo Formation, NOW!”

  “W-What? Armadillo? What—?”

  “You’re with me, Nene. No time to expin. Just think of us as the rear. They’re the vanguard.”

  And just like that—without knowing what “vanguard” even meant—Nene watched the squad charge.

  “Shield Technique Deployment II: Great Shield (10 P.R),” Maik and Nail intoned.

  The duo formed an iron wall.The jellyfish extended its tentacles—now coated with the same red gems—and the impact rang out like a hammer on metal.

  The wall trembled. But did not break. The men gritted their teeth, holding the barrier as if their lives depended on it.

  Behind them, Luca shaped a shield and used it as a ptform for Jorgen to leap into the air.

  The jellyfish’s eyes followed him—cold, calcuting. Its aura burned orange, and its tentacles curved like spears ready to impale him midair.

  “Now!” Jorgen roared, feeling death racing upward toward him.

  From below, Marge raised her weapon with desperate speed. Two shots echoed inside the dark prison of the Domain.

  The first struck the tentacles, knocking them off course with a harsh crack. The second shot flew straight toward the creature’s head.

  The jellyfish contorted its body with unnatural esticity, dodging the bullet by a margin that chilled the blood.

  In response, its “hair”—the crystallized tentacles—sliced the air and lunged toward Marge like a swarm of living spears.

  “Shit!” she spat, rolling on the damp stone.

  The paired tips stabbed the ground where she had been moments before. Luca dropped down with his Great Shield, smming it in front of her with a metallic boom. The tentacles battered the barrier like frustrated whips.

  The path was open, now was the moment.

  Jorgen dove from the air like a human meteor, pouring all his weight into his greatsword. The creature, twisted after dodging the bullet, was exposed. Vulnerable.

  The veins in his arms bulged, tight under the armor. His breath was a contained roar.

  “Swordsman Technique Deployment I: Ssh (10 P.R); Connect [Bite and Sever (Arghnipraksma/Spinal Thorn)].”

  He wanted to split it in one stroke.

  The creature sensed the danger. Its mouth emitted a guttural sound—more instinct than nguage.

  The tentacles that had been repelled snapped back with deadly precision, aiming to impale Jorgen’s back before he completed the strike.

  But two shots cut through the air.

  “Makina!” Maik shouted.

  One bullet pierced a tentacle, breaking the entire offensive pattern. The creature was forced to shield its head with the rest, leaving its body completely exposed.

  Jorgen didn’t hesitate. His bde descended.

  The desperation in his eyes poured into the edge of his greatsword.

  The bde met flesh.

  The dry crack—bone splitting, muscle tearing—thundered inside the dome like a grotesque explosion. The creature screamed, a sound far too human for anyone’s comfort.

  “Damn… monster…” Jorgen growled, stunned that he had failed.

  The jellyfish had hardened its arm instantly: red crystals erupted like a glowing tumor, reinforcing it. Then, with impossible speed for such a battered body, it stopped the bde at the elbow.

  “GRRH!” the creature roared.

  Its tentacle-hair writhed behind it like seaweed in a violent tide, striking toward Jorgen with killing intent.

  Jorgen released the greatsword and rolled aside just in time to avoid being impaled. The creature gave him no room to breathe—it exploded forward in an inhuman sprint, crossing the distance in less than a blink.

  Its arm—the one impaled by the greatsword—twisted with brutal force, turning the bde into a guillotine aimed straight at Jorgen’s torso.

  “Jorgen!” Marge screamed.

  There was a moment of silence.

  A suspended heartbeat.

  And then—blood.

  A thick spray burst like a crimson explosion.

  Something heavy hit the ground with a wet thud.

  An armored arm.

  Jorgen gasped. By pure instinct, he had raised his arm to block the strike. The force had been enough to tear the entire limb off up to the shoulder.

  “Argh! Shit!” he roared, stumbling back while the world blurred red with pain.

  His shieldbearers caught him before he colpsed, horrified at the bleeding stump.

  “B-Boss… your arm… your…” Luca stammered, pale.

  It was as if the creature had exacted vengeance in a single instant.

  Both sides were bleeding now.

  Both had tasted the real price of the battle.

  And inside the Domain, with no way out, the war had only just begun.

  Ouro