OP Absorption
Chapter 86: Save Meg

Chapter 86: Save Meg

Scarlet’s playful smile vanished. These weren’t normal bullets. The air cracked differently when they passed, leaving trails of ozone, hitting with enough force to punch holes clean through the brickwork she used as cover. Faster. Heavier. Designed to kill things like her.

She dodged, weaving, the dance becoming desperate. Closing the distance was impossible now; the sheer volume of fire pinned her down, heavy slugs chewing up the crumbling wall she hid behind.

Then, small black orbs arced through the air, landing near her feet. They pulsed once, emitting a low hum before detonating silently, releasing waves of disruptive energy. Her mana pathways flared painfully, sputtering like faulty wires. Her movements grew sluggish, her enhanced speed faltering.

They saw the opening. Both suits stopped firing the heavy pistols for a split second, switching back to their original sidearms with practiced speed. Then they unleashed hell.

A storm of bullets slammed into her cover, shredding brick and mortar. She curled tight, trying to shield her head and chest, but it wasn’t enough. Rounds tore through the disintegrating wall, ripping into her arms, her legs, her sides. Pain exploded through her, hot and sharp.

She gritted her teeth, stifling a cry, collapsing fully behind the ruined remnants of the wall. She could feel blood pooling beneath her, hot and sticky. Standing was impossible now. Her vision swam.

Through the haze of pain, she managed a weak, blood-flecked smile. Freedom had been... intoxicating. Worth it.

"I got to experience what it means to be free," she whispered, the words barely audible over the ringing in her ears. "I have no problem dying again."

The gunfire stopped abruptly. Heavy footsteps approached. She heard the distinct click of the anti-hunter pistols being aimed again, ready for the final, killing shots.

Silence. An unnerving, absolute silence fell over the deserted lot. The heavy footsteps stopped.

Then, two soft, wet thuds echoed nearby.

Scarlet blinked, trying to clear her vision. The two suits who had been standing over her were... gone? No, not gone. Their bodies lay crumpled on the pavement a few feet away, heads rolling obscenely across the cracked concrete, expressions of shock frozen on their lifeless faces.

Standing where they had been, wreathed in an aura of swirling darkness that seemed to drink the fading light, was Fin. His eyes blazed with cold, terrifying power, vortexes of shadow that promised annihilation. The air grew heavy, cold, pressing down with the weight of a god’s displeasure. He hadn’t made a sound arriving.

He was just... there.

He looked straight ahead, his gaze sweeping over the carnage, landing on Scarlet’s prone form for only a fraction of a second. She saw no recognition, no malice, nothing. Just emptiness.

He started walking. Directly towards her.

Scarlet laughed, a weak, rattling sound in her chest. "So," she coughed, tasting blood. "I die by your hands again, huh? Poetic."

But he didn’t stop. He didn’t even look down at her. He walked straight past her crumpled form, his terrifying aura washing over her like a cold wave, his focus entirely on the figure huddled behind the nearby ruined wall.

Meg heard the gunfire stop. Heard the footsteps. Heard the wet thuds. Silence. Then, a single word, spoken softly, right beside her hiding spot.

"Hey."

Her head snapped up. Tears blurred her vision, but she knew that voice, knew that presence, even wrapped in terrifying darkness. Fin. He was here. He’d come.

Relief, overwhelming and absolute, crashed over her, washing away the pain, the fear, everything. With a choked sob, she scrambled out from behind the wall and launched herself at him.

Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, clinging desperately. Tears streamed down her face, soaking into the worn fabric of his jacket.

"Fin!" she cried, her voice muffled against his shoulder, shaking uncontrollably. "Oh god, Fin, I was so scared! I thought— I thought—" Words failed her. She just held on tighter, burying her face against him, letting the terror and relief pour out in ragged sobs.

He stood rigid for a moment, the dark aura around him pulsing slightly, then his arms came up slowly, tentatively, holding her close. The terrifying power remained, a storm held barely in check, but his touch was surprisingly gentle.

She clung to him, her entire body trembling, the sobs wracking her small frame. He held her, the swirling darkness of his aura softening fractionally around them, though the pressure in the air remained immense, cold.

He felt the sticky dampness of her tears soaking his jacket, felt the rapid, terrified beat of her heart against his chest.

"It’s okay," he murmured, the words feeling rough, unfamiliar in his own throat. "It’s okay now. I’m here."

He gently pulled back just enough to look at her face. His eyes, still swirling vortexes of shadow, took in the damage. The grotesquely swollen, likely broken nose crusted with dried blood. The dark bruising already blooming across her jaw and cheekbone. The raw scrapes from hitting the wall.

Something cold and sharp twisted inside him, a specific, targeted fury replacing the broader rage. They had hurt her. Marked her. Made her bleed.

The shadows around him deepened again, swirling faster, hungrier.

His dream of being a normal hunter, of having friends, of finding some semblance of peace in this broken world... it felt like a child’s fantasy now. A delusion shattered by the harsh reality slamming into him.

They took Meg. They hurt her. There was no going back to pretending. The game had changed, and the naive boy who just wanted to clear dungeons was gone, burned away by icy rage.

"Hi," a weak voice coughed from nearby. "Sorry... I am sure you want to kill me right now."

He turned his head slowly, his dark gaze falling on Scarlet crumpled against the ruined wall. Her breathing was shallow, blood staining her clothes, but defiance still flickered weakly in her eyes.

"So that girl belongs to you, huh?" she added, managing a faint, pain-laced smirk. "That’s nice."

He looked from her back to Meg, still clinging to him, her face buried in his shoulder. ’Belongs to me?’ The phrase echoed strangely. Not ownership. Responsibility. Protection. His.

"Yes," he finally replied, his voice flat, devoid of inflection, the swirling shadows in his eyes unwavering. "She is."

He gently eased Meg back slightly, supporting her weight as her legs still felt weak. "Can you stand?"

She nodded shakily, wiping at her tear-streaked face, smearing blood and grime. "I... I think so."

He gently scooped her into his arms, her weight barely registering against the cold power thrumming through him. Her head lolled against his shoulder, exhaustion and pain making her almost limp. Getting her out of here, getting her safe, treating her injuries – that was the only priority.

The Association, Rowena, the fool who sent Scarlet – they could wait. Their destruction was merely postponed.

He started walking back towards the shadows, away from the crumpled bodies and the flickering emergency lights of the distant van. His domain offered the quickest escape, the only truly safe place.

"Wait," she mumbled against his chest, her voice weak but insistent. She lifted her head slightly, looking back towards the ruined wall where Scarlet lay bleeding. "Her... you have to help her."

Fin paused, his dark gaze flicking dismissively towards the wounded assassin. "She’s irrelevant."

"No!" she pushed weakly against his chest. "She saved me. Those guys... they were going to kill me. She stopped them. She got hurt because of me."

He stopped walking completely. The swirling shadows in his eyes seemed to still for a fraction of a second. He looked down at Meg’s earnest, pleading face, smeared with blood and tears, then back at Scarlet, whose breathing was becoming shallower.

"She saved you?" he repeated, the words flat, cold. An equation shifted in his mind. A debt incurred. An unwelcome complication.

He carefully set her down, making sure she could stand, though she swayed slightly. "Stay here."

He turned and walked towards Scarlet. The dark aura around him didn’t lessen, but the unfocused rage seemed to recede slightly, replaced by cold calculation. He stopped beside her, looking down without expression.

Scarlet met his gaze, a flicker of her earlier defiance mixing with pain. "Changed your mind?" she rasped, a weak smirk playing on her lips. "Come to finish the job?"

"I should," he stated, his voice devoid of heat. "You work for Varn. You hunted me. You are an enemy." He crouched beside her, the movement fluid, predatory. "Ending your life right now would simplify things."

She closed her eyes briefly. "Then do it."

"But," he continued, ignoring her fatalism, "you helped Meg." He reached out, his hand hovering over her blood-soaked jacket, near the worst of the wounds in her side. "She says I owe you."

His hand touched her. Not with the chilling pressure of his earlier attack, but with a sudden warmth. Bright green energy flowed from his palm, sinking into her skin, stark against the swirling darkness that still clung to him.

It wasn’t the chaotic power of the Mana Cell, nor the cold logic of the Silver Core. It felt... vital. Alive.

She gasped as the energy surged through her, knitting torn muscle, sealing ruptured vessels, pushing out shredded bullet fragments with quiet insistence. The pain didn’t just fade; it was actively erased.

The sluggishness from the disruptor orbs vanished, replaced by a feeling of strength flowing back into her limbs. She stared up at him, wide-eyed, shock replacing the pained resignation.

He pulled his hand back, the green light fading. The wounds were closed, the bleeding stopped. She wasn’t fully healed – deeper damage and exhaustion remained – but she was no longer dying.

He stood up, looking down at her impassively.

"We are even now," he declared, the words flat, transactional. He turned away without waiting for a response, walking back towards Meg.

Meg watched, her hand pressed against her aching jaw, eyes wide. She saw the green light, felt the surge of life-giving energy even from a distance. It was the same feeling she sometimes got when he was close, a faint echo of the power that had saved him, but amplified, controlled.

Used not to destroy, but to mend.

He reached her side, the terrifying darkness settling back around him like a shroud, the brief flash of green light already forgotten. He looked down at her, his eyes unreadable.

What now? He’d saved her, faced down assassins, even healed one. But the cold fury hadn’t left him. Where did they go from here?

Search the lightnovelworld.cc website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.