The Choice at the Lair

A light rain the night before had left the ground slick. Droplets still gleamed on the rocks in the morning light. Wind through the valley carried the scent of damp earth and grass, with the faintest trace of blood now and then. Deep in the valley, the low growls of Nen beasts rolled like muffled thunder, a warning in every rumble.

Ryan walked alone along the edge of the valley path, a gray cloak wrapped around him. His 500-kilogram weighted armor made a faint metallic scrape with each step. His face was expressionless, his gaze cold and focused. After days of exploring, he had a rough grasp of the terrain and the Nen beasts' range. Last night's battle had cost him three sniper rounds. He had gained several cards, but card 003 was still nowhere to be found.

"Can't expect card 003 to drop just because I get lucky once or twice," he murmured, his voice nearly lost in the breeze slipping between the rocks. His steps never faltered as he continued steadily along the valley wall.

In the morning sunlight, the Eye beside him looked dim, its surface beaded with tiny droplets as though shrouded in mist. Ryan studied it. "This time... I need to go deeper. I can't keep circling the outskirts." His soft words drifted away on the breeze.

Ryan put away his waterskin and slowly rose. His cloak lifted slightly behind him. The weight of his armor would have burdened most people, but he had long since grown used to it. His steps were steady and quiet, without a sound to spare.

He kept close to the valley wall, stopping every few paces to listen. He knew how many dangers lurked here, especially Nen beasts that might spring out and ambush him. He stayed alert, unwilling