Level Up The Colony
Chapter 65: Unnamed

Chapter 65: Unnamed

Chaos followed as people scrambled for loot, some helping others, some not.

But Timothy made no move toward the riches.

They would go to the association, anyway.

His job was done.

He waited until everyone else stepped through the portal that had opened, shimmering and blue, like a calm ocean’s eye.

They even carried Dike with them, unconscious but still breathing.

Timothy was the last to leave.

He gave the place one final glance before stepping through.

This had remodelled his thoughts of world shards and he’d need to research more on them.

The portal closed behind him.

They emerged back in the real world, but not quite the same world they left.

The terrain was soaked, like the aftermath of a flooding dungeon break.

Pools of water dotted the earth, evidence of the other world bleeding into theirs.

But there was no more portal.

No more dungeon.

They had cleared it.

Around them, officials and association staff gathered.

Some took inventory, others cheered.

Hunters smiled and collapsed in relief.

and only then did sadness slip in for the ones they’ve lost

And as the system continued to ping with rewards and bonuses...

Timothy simply stared into the sky.

The bride was gone.

But her judgment had been passed.

Timothy didn’t have much of a choice.

The Association’s medical response team had mobilized immediately after the raid ended.

Within minutes, a fleet of ambulances, nearly ten in total, descended on the scene, carrying the wounded and unconscious away with practiced efficiency.

Timothy was also advised to board one of them, but he declined.

Instead, he stood silently for almost ten minutes, unmoving, as Miriam was reluctantly whisked away for treatment.

She did come over to return gray before leaving though.

Eventually, with a sigh, he turned and walked toward Vanessa, who was surrounded by chaos.

She stood at the center of it all, issuing rapid orders while overseeing the collection of treasures that had been recovered from the dungeon.

She didn’t look up when he approached.

Without breaking her rhythm, she addressed him curtly.

"You’re no longer needed here. Go get some rest. Heal. Be prepared for the next call from the Association. You did well in your first B-rank raid. Your report will be taken later. Compensation and commendation will be processed in due time... however, I also need you to "

Before she could finish, Timothy walked past her without a word.

He headed straight for the waiting vehicle.

To his surprise, it was the same driver from earlier, still patiently idling.

As Timothy slid into the back seat, he spoke quietly.

"Take me home."

The driver didn’t respond at first.

Instead, he turned to glance at Vanessa in the distance.

She gave a slight nod.

With that, the engine hummed to life, and they drove off into the night.

The journey was long, more than two hours, and Timothy allowed himself to do what his body had been begging for.

He leaned back, closed his eyes, and drifted into a deep sleep.

Gray sat silently in the front passenger seat, antennae twitching occasionally, watching the road.

—

When Timothy woke, it was due to a dull ache in his legs and a growing pressure in his bladder.

Disoriented, he shifted his weight, bumping against something hard and cushioned.

It took him a moment to realize where he was.

The ceiling felt too close, the car too still.

He sat up carefully.

The vehicle was dark, too dark for a normal person to see clearly.

But his senses had sharpened since his awakening, and he navigated the shadows with ease.

"Where are we?" he asked groggily.

"We’ve arrived, sir. Right where I picked you and Miss Miriam up earlier today," the driver replied smoothly, his voice calm and professional.

Timothy glanced out the tinted window but saw nothing of note.

The driver, noticing, rolled it down for him.

Night had fallen fully, streetlights buzzed faintly, and the familiar outline of his street greeted him like an old friend.

"How long was I asleep?"

"A little over five hours, sir," the driver answered, with the precise enunciation of someone who had received formal education.

"Thank you," Timothy said, stepping out of the vehicle, his clothes still in tatters.

Gray followed him, perching near his feet without camouflage this time.

It didn’t matter.

Most people wouldn’t notice or wouldn’t believe what they saw.

As he was about to cross the street, the driver exited the car and handed him a small envelope.

Timothy opened it to find his phone and house keys inside.

’They’re efficient’ he thought.

Careful and Structured.

The trip hadn’t taken more than three hours, yet they’d waited an additional two for him to wake on his own.

That kind of discipline spoke volumes about their protocol.

Without another word, Timothy crossed to his front door, unlocked it, and entered.

He didn’t even wait for the door to close behind him before heading straight for the bathroom.

After relieving himself, a new wave of exhaustion hit.

Food could wait.

He needed rest more than anything else.

—

Across the city and far from the quiet of Timothy’s home a different scene unfolded.

The Association was already mobilizing its resources.

Gold, artifacts, enchanted weapons, and other rare items retrieved from the World Shard were being cataloged and secured.

Rumors had begun circulating even before the dust had settled.

Of the 110 personnel sent into the raid, hunters and cameramen combined, barely a quarter had made it out alive.

The Association couldn’t contain the information.

Not without paying a heavy price.

The official press release hadn’t been made yet, but the masses were waiting.

Whispers spread quickly: a catastrophic B-rank raid, unknown monsters, unconfirmed survivors.

In places like Rivers State, rich in natural and mystical resources, dungeon breaks were rare, but across other regions, dungeons came with their own flavor of chaos.

And now, the whole nation was watching.

In a quiet, restricted conference room, a high-level council sat around a circular table.

Prominent figures, some known to the public, others cloaked in anonymity watched a large monitor that displayed the full footage of the raid.

The video ran for nearly two hours.

Silent.

Grim and Real.

When it ended, a man at the head of the table stood, his presence commanding.

"Gentlemen," he said,

"as you’ve seen, out of six B-rank raids conducted nationwide this quarter, only one was successful, and even then, the casualties were unacceptable."

He gestured, and the screen shifted, now showing teams of workers collecting gold, equipment, and relics from the dungeon site.

"The profits, however... speak for themselves."

The weight of the gold retrieved from the raid was estimated in tons, and the artifacts, though not yet evaluated, were expected to fetch a fortune.

After all, no one below a C-rank had even survived to glimpse them.

"Note, this is only a rough estimate," said the man standing at the head of the virtual meeting.

"The actual value could be higher... or lower. But it’s an incentive worth discussing."

No one responded for a moment.

Then another voice broke the silence.

"How long before the artifacts are processed?"

"A week, at best." the man replied

But the conversation soon veered.

"I’m more curious about the boy," another man interjected. "I’ve seen many hunters. Many wield strange abilities. But I haven’t come across one listed as both warrior and summoner at least not one who operates so independently."

"And that creature... that ’termite.’ I don’t recall it speaking, so who was he communicating with?" asked a third voice.

An image of Timothy appeared on the conference display accompanied by a detailed profile.

Another man commented,

"Double dungeon survivor. That’s rare. Very rare."

"Our intel on him is incomplete," said a briefing officer.

"We’ve verified he has a mother admitted to Mana Health Care, and there’s speculation of ties to the UHO."

"Confirmed?" someone asked.

"Not entirely. Internal sources suggest he’s only an auxiliary member, an outer circle recruit at most. But he’s already attracted the wolves."

"Are they making a move?"

"They tried. Contact was made and failed."

"So... no affiliations?"

"None yet."

"They’ll keep coming. You know how the wolves work. Once they bite, they don’t let go. We should shift focus. What’s the current status of the border gates?"

"Barely holding," someone reported.

"The military is overstretched. We’re fighting two wars there with limited manpower."

"And the President?"

"He’s attempting to claim gate rights independently. Just acquired twenty more in the North using executive orders."

Another man chuckled.

"Good. Let him gorge himself. Feed him false leads, drain his ambitions. His greed will undo him before his term expires."

"And the academy?" a voice asked.

"They’ve released another five thousand elite cadets, but there’s an issue, foreign nations are poaching them. The incentives are too strong."

"Match their offers. Redirect the budget. Increase tolls, adjust tax brackets, and cut guild insurance if you must. We’ve lost too much talent to their hands." Another man roared in annoyance

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