Left in Rage

The restaurant was dimly lit, the scent of roasted meats and rich spices lingering in the air. Plates of untouched food sat before Akira, their steam slowly fading into the cold air. Across from him, Sylara leaned back in her chair, stretching with a satisfied sigh.

His phone vibrated against the table.

Without looking, he reached for it, flipping it over. The screen lit up—three missed calls from Cha-Jong, two from Hiroshi.

Maybe they had seen the news about Eri and called, but he still didn't call them back

"Ahh, I'm full."

She tapped her stomach lightly before glancing at Akira, who hadn't touched a single bite. His dark eyes remained distant, locked in the depths of his own mind.

Sylara tilted her head, studying him. His hands rested on the table, fingers faintly curled, tension hidden beneath the stillness. The way his gaze stayed fixed, unblinking, was almost unsettling. She had seen rage before—seen men blinded by their fury—but Akira?

Just a while ago, he had been something else entirely.

"You should've seen yourself back there," she mused, swirling her drink idly.

"You looked mad. Really mad. Like a beast about to break free. I should've taken a picture of your face."

No response.

She clicked her tongue. "What were you thinking about, anyway?"

A beat of silence.

Then—

"Why do you care?" Akira finally spoke, his voice low, steady.

"It doesn't concern you."

Sylara scoffed. "Of course it does."

His gaze finally lifted, cold and sharp.

She smirked.

"You're part of my guild. Not fully, but you're around enough. And I remember someone saying they'd start trusting me sooner or later. What happened to that, huh?"

She leaned forward, propping her elbow on the table.

"I even let you beat Imzar half to death, didn't I? If that's not trust, I don't know what is."

Akira didn't react. He simply stared.

Sylara exhaled, tapping her nails against the table.

"And besides… I know."

A flicker in his expression.

"I know this has to do with that new CEO. The woman who took over your father's company."

His jaw clenched.

I told you before—I know you're Shiro's son, Akira." Her voice softened, but her eyes held firm. 

A pause.

"Now speak."

For a moment, Akira just stared at her. A thousand thoughts clashed inside his mind. The memories. The betrayals. The pain.

Eri's face.

Her words.

Her smile.

Akira sat in silence, his dark eyes unreadable as he stared at the untouched food before him. Sylara watched him, her violet gaze sharp, patient.

He hesitated.

"Could i trust her?"

His vow echoed in his mind. "I have sworn—never again."

"But even if she betrays me, what does it matter? I have nothing left to lose anymore."

A slow breath left his lips. His fingers, resting on the table, curled slightly before he finally spoke.

"It happened two years ago."

His voice was calm—too calm. But beneath the surface, something twisted. Something rotted.

"I was returning home. His eyes darkened. "Then I saw them."

His fingers twitched.

"Cars around my house."

The memory hit like a sledgehammer.

"I ran. I don't even remember my feet touching the ground—I just ran. And when I got inside..."

His breath slowed.

His fists clenched.

"...My father was dead."

The words were cold. Hollow.

"And my mother almost..."

A long pause.

Sylara didn't speak. She just studied him, her expression unreadable.

Akira's voice came softer now.

"It was because of an organization called Nightfall."

Her eyes narrowed.

"The ones filled with those... things. Demonic humans." His gaze sharpened, cutting like glass.

"They are my goal. And I will tear them apart. No matter what."

Sylara remained still. She wasn't the type to be easily rattled, but something about the way he said it—the sheer finality in his tone—sent a shiver down her spine.

He wasn't just saying it—he had already decided.

After a while, Akira leaned back. His voice dropped lower.

"I was lost. Completely lost."

The weight of those words sank deep into the space between them.

"The only one who told me anything was Hiroshi. My father's friend."

His eyes flickered, distant. "He was the one who explained the situation to me. What had happened."

A dry chuckle left his lips.

"And then... she came."

Sylara's brows furrowed.

"Eri."

He almost spat the name.

"She approached me. Told me she understood my pain. That she knew what happened. That she could help me get back at them."

His voice turned bitter. "I was broken. Desperate. I believed her."

His grip on the table tightened.

"I trusted them. For a whole damn year, I worked with them, thinking we were after the same thing. I was blind."

Sylara's gaze sharpened.

"Then, information about a material from a dungeon that could help us track down those responsible surfaced."

He exhaled.

"Or at least, that's what I thought."

His expression darkened.

"Before we entered, they had worked with some agents and handed me some documents. Told me it was just standard procedure for entering dungeons for the first time.

A bitter smirk twisted his lips.

"But what I actually signed..."

Sylara's stomach tightened.

"—Was my father's entire wealth over to them."

A heavy silence fell between them.

Sylara's eyes widened slightly.

"...What?"

"They played me." His voice was cold. "I was a fool."

Sylara clenched her jaw.

Then—his next words hit harder.

"When we entered the dungeon, I was still just a normal human. Not awakened. No powers. Nothing."

His fingers curled into a fist.

"And that's when they told me."

His eyes, shadowed with something dark, lifted to meet hers.

"Everything was a lie."

Sylara didn't move.

"And then…"

His smirk was razor-sharp.

"They left me there. To die."

The restaurant, once filled with distant chatter and clinking glasses, felt dead silent.

Sylara didn't speak.

She just stared at him.

The air between them was heavy—thick with unspoken words. Sylara's violet eyes never left Akira, studying him with newfound understanding.

She leaned forward, voice quiet but firm.

"How did you survive?"

Akira's fingers lightly tapped against the table, his expression unreadable.

"Some Stars found me in that dungeon," he said finally.

"They saved me. After a while... I awakened."

His voice was calm, almost detached—but something about the way he said it felt off.

Sylara narrowed her eyes.

"Just like that?"

A bitter smirk tugged at his lips.

"Maybe the gods wanted to give me a chance after all that."

Then—

His heart lurched.

A sudden, sharp pain stabbed through his chest.

"Agh—!"

His hand instinctively clutched at his heart, his breath hitching. For a brief moment, his vision blurred, the world tilting slightly.

Sylara's eyes widened. "Akira? What's wrong?"

Then—just as quickly as it came—the pain vanished.

Akira exhaled sharply, his hand lowering. His heartbeat was still there, steady—but something felt... off.

"...Nothing," he muttered. "Just my chest—it hurt for a second."

Sylara studied him. "Maybe bringing up those memories triggered something."

He didn't respond.

Sylara leaned back, arms crossed. "Now I get it. Why you fight like that. Why you're so damn reckless."

Akira didn't deny it.

"...And now?" She asked.

"What do you plan on doing?"

His dark eyes flickered with an unyielding determination.

"I won't stop until I have my answers. Until the ones who took everything from me suffer in ways they never imagined."

"Only one thing matters."

His voice was steady. Cold.

"I need to grow stronger."

He exhaled, gaze burning. "I need to reach the level of an S-rank—and beyond. Until no one, not a single damn person, can stop me."

Sylara's fingers tapped against the table.

"That's easier said than done. You know that, right?"

Akira's expression didn't change.

"I don't care."

He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. His voice dropped to a quiet, lethal whisper.

"Starting with Eri… then Nightfall."

Sylara met his gaze, silent for a moment.

Then she sighed, shaking her head.

"You know, once you reach A-rank, there's a wall. A barrier that most awakened can't pass."

Akira didn't react, but he listened.

Sylara continued.

"Gods know the reason. Some people push through with luck. Others—only through extreme conditions. But it's never the same. Even I haven't broken through to the next level yet."

A challenge. A warning.

But Akira…

He already knew.

And more than that—he already had his answer.

He looked at her, a faint smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

"I know."

His confidence was absolute.

Because unlike the others—he was different.

He had the system no other awakened possessed

He would pass it. No matter what.

Sylara exhaled, watching him.

"I hope you do," she murmured.

But even now, he didn't tell her everything.

He left out the system.

He left out what really happened after the dungeon.

And most of all—

He left out the fact that after he escaped, the dungeon itself had…

Vanished.