Hope and guilt warred on the faces of the hunters watching Shane.

  They looked at the open street, then back at the man who had cleared it for them, torn between the survival instinct to flee and some sort of other unnecessary thoughts Shane couldn’t comprehend.

  Alright. Now get out of here, thought Shane.

  But Whitley, even now, found a way to make a fool of himself.

  “D-damn it!”

  The older hunter broke from the group with a strangled cry. He started sprinting out the metal shutter with a wild, unhinged look in his eyes.

  He kept glancing back over his shoulder—at Shane—as if the F-ranker was the thing he needed to escape. He looked more afraid of Shane than the actual monsters.

  That was when all hell broke loose.

  The street and the factory floor bulged violently upward.

  CRACK.

  Massive, tombstone-shaped slabs of gray rock erupted from the ground, tearing through the street and the factory’s foundation like jagged teeth.

  It was the Executioner’s area attack—[Grave Call].

  Whitley tried to dodge, skidding on the loose gravel, but one of the stone slabs exploded from the earth right next to his feet. The shockwave sent him flying like a ragdoll, his limbs flailing helplessly before he slammed into the neighboring building. He slid down the wall and lay still in a heap, knocked out cold.

  He was lucky. A direct hit would have turned him into paste.

  Still, if left there, Whitley would be torn apart by the first Paladin that stumbled upon him. But inside the factory, panic had fully taken over.

  The shock of the attack had forced the remaining hunters to scatter into the cloud of debris, sprinting past Whitley’s unconscious body without a second glance, their only goal the distant intercontinental portal.

  Shane cursed under his breath, grabbed Henry by the arm, and weaved through the exploding tombstones with his [Blink]. The big tank was still completely out of it.

  Damn. I was hoping he’d be useful for the boss fight.

  Henry looked shaken past his limit, his face the color of ash. But everyone else was scattered. There was no one to leave him with, so Shane had no choice but to keep him close, hauling him along like a sack of dead weight.

  These damn pups…

  Even the greenest recruits from his past life weren’t this soft.

  At this rate, his only reliable tank was going to die. Henry was a talent he’d need again in the future. Shane decided to get Henry to snap out of it, at least enough to run away on his own two feet.

  They reappeared in a blur of motion, stumbling into a sheltered alcove wedged between a brick tenement and a rusted industrial dumpster.

  But when Shane opened his mouth to speak, blood spilled over his chin instead of words.

  Shit.

  He’d overexerted himself. Using [Blink] while carrying a passenger was hard enough; doing it with a hole in his shoulder felt like he was being torn apart from the inside out.

  At the sight of Shane’s blood, Henry’s face grew even paler. It seemed to be the one thing that broke through his daze.

  He started trying to pull away from Shane’s grip. The problem was he was stumbling back toward the open street where the monsters were.

  Shane tightened his grip on the kid’s biceps. He tried to explain the situation to calm him down.

  “Snap out of it.”

  The hell?

  The [Behavior Lock] was stripping away all the naunce and making his words way too short.

  But before he could speak again, Henry stammered, his voice trembling.

  “Y-your shoulder. This… this is all my fault.”

  Christ, seriously?

  Shane stared at him with disbelief. What was he blaming himself for now? This was a goddamn A-rank dungeon breach, and a guy walked away with a single hole in his shoulder.

  That’s a freaking miracle, not something to mope about.

  Shane tried again.

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  “Beating yourself up isn’t saving anybody. Put that energy into protecting people.”

  That came out like I’m chewing him out! [Behavior Lock], you’re killing me here.

  Shane took a breath and chose his next words very carefully now.

  “Why did you become a hunter? So you could freeze up and do nothing every time you make a mistake?”

  He placed a hand on Henry’s shoulder, trying to ground him.

  “You’re not some flawless machine, and I trust you don’t believe you are. So get moving and evacuate the civilians.”

  God, I give up.

  Shane couldn’t tell if his words were landing or just bruising the kid further. But then he saw a flicker of light returning to Henry’s hollow eyes.

  Hmm?

  If ticking Henry off was what it took to clear his head, Shane could live with that.

  But, it turned out, Henry wasn’t angry.

  “If it wasn’t for me, you… you wouldn’t have gotten hurt so bad,” Henry stammered, his eyes fixed on the bloody patch on Shane’s shoulder.

  Great.

  Out of all the crap that could have shaken him, he was locked onto Shane’s wound.

  Like Shane getting banged up was the real tragedy here.

  Did these pups really need to hear a cheesy “it’s not your fault” just to keep from cracking?

  In Shane’s world, people didn’t need soft lies to function. You fought, you bled, you moved on.

  But there wasn’t time to argue, so Shane gave the kid what he figured he wanted.

  “It’s not your job to protect me,” Shane said, his voice flat. “I’m the captain here, not you.”

  At those words, Henry’s gaze wavered. That was the best [Behavior Lock] would allow.

  “Am I going to have to repeat myself?” Shane growled, because he was certainly not going to be doing that.

  “N-no, sir.”

  Another tombstone slab erupted from the ground right next to the dumpster.

  Without a second thought, Henry clasped his hands together and enveloped them both in a glowing, cubic shield.

  The slab of rock slammed into the barrier and exploded. The shield blew apart on impact, showering them in harmless golden light, but it held long enough to deflect the debris.

  Shane shielded his eyes, and couldn’t help the irritation that rose in his chest.

  It was one of the best defensive skills he’d ever seen—instant cast, full coverage, high durability for its rank—chained to a pup too fragile to use it right.

  If not for that damned quirk, Henry would’ve awakened as an S-rank tank.

  Instead, here he was, bawling at Shane, the guy stuck in an F-rank body.

  “You’re blind,” Shane said, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

  The unexpected comment made Henry’s mouth fall slightly open.

  “Blind?”

  Damn you, [Behavior Lock].

  “I’m saying you pay so much attention to what others think that you act like you’re blind to reality. Forget what other people see.”

  And just in case, Shanee added, “Not the future, not the past. Focus on the present. On what’s right in front of you.”

  Slowly, Henry’s gaze met his.

  The panic began to recede, but it didn’t feel like he was looking at Shane anymore. Jesus, Shane just told him to focus on the here and now. Judging by that look, though, Henry was laying someone else’s shadow over him.

  Henry’s response, however, was obedient.

  “…I understand.”

  His voice didn’t tremble this time.

  “Then I’m staying, too.”

  Wiping the dust from his face, he didn’t look like the wreck from a minute ago. A strong resolve now shone in his eyes, hardening his features.

  Shane blinked.

  Wait. He didn’t get it at all.

  The message was to run away. Evacuating citizens was just an excuse to get him out of here.

  But Henry’s expression and posture were a complete one-eighty from before. Why was he so different, suddenly?

  As if in answer to his question, a pop-up appeared.

  [‘Heaven’s Executioner (A-rank)’ is preparing its hymn!]

  [All citizens in Brooklyn are advised to evacuate immediately.]

  [Time until Brooklyn is annihilated: 30 minutes]

  Ah.

  That was why.

  Henry must have realized there was no place left to run. He must’ve seen the thirty-minute doomsday clock notification faster than Shane did.

  Well, then his grit in wanting to stay and fight was at least commendable.

  That was what Shane thought, though his cynicism remained firmly in place. Since Shane was only giving him a pass because he was useful. Or else why would he have hauled the kid all the way over here, spamming [Blink] when he had a boss to kill?

  As Shane watched the tank, another notification appeared, this one hovering just above Henry’s head like a halo.

  It was an updated status window.

  [Name: Henry Stone]

  New! Rank: S (Temporary)

  [Skills]

  New! Sacred Guard: B- → A

  New! Blessed Shield: A- → S

  New! Holy Bind: A → S+

  New! Divine Hammer: B → A+

  ...

  [Quirk]

  Guilt: S+

  Trait: Indomitable Will (Activated)

  He temporarily awakened as an S-rank?

  Looking closer, Shane saw that Henry’s crippling quirk, [Guilt], had been crossed out.

  Instead, the dormant trait from before had been activated.

  [Indomitable Will]

  : A shield is meant to protect others. The will to protect others forges an even stronger shield.

  What the fuck?

  His quirk got suppressed until he had someone to protect?

  Why couldn’t I get a trait like that?

  His [Behavior Lock] stopped him at a scowl, but internally, Shane was raging at the sheer unfairness of it all. He was stuck hacking up blood every time he cast a spell, while this kid could just “will himself” into a demigod?

  But this wasn’t the time to complain.

  The important thing was that the tool he needed—the shield that would cut a path for him to the boss, through every obstacle—was now complete.

  Another tombstone shot up between them, jotting up faster than the last ones.

  This time, Henry instantly created a golden cubic shield that enveloped the tombstone itself.

  The massive slab of rock exploded inside the golden box, but Henry’s shield didn’t even crack.

  What the hell...?

  [Shields] were notoriously weak on the inside. If it could contain an explosion that easily, Shane couldn’t imagine how hard the outer shell must be.

  It was on a completely different level from the shield before, which had shattered on impact. Without even realizing he had temporarily awakened, Henry was now demonstrating the skill worthy of his latent S-rank potential.

  Shoot.

  At this rate, the junior was going to get all the credit. Shane couldn’t let him steal all the raid contribution score—or the rewards.

  The best way to raise a contribution score during a dungeon breach was… to protect the people around him as much as possible while increasing his damage output against the monsters.

  He needed to outperform an S-rank.

  “Do you have a plan?” Henry asked, his voice steady now.