Spirit Hunting Union

Quinn groaned.

"Little piece of shit."

But before he knew it, the cloud spread everywhere. He couldn't take in the shock when it cleared almost immediately.

But now, he was no longer at the cliff. It was the ash-covered Cursed Realm.

'Why am I back in here?'

And the screen, as though to answer him, appeared. But it didn't. Instead, it chose to continue.

Quinn read:

The world's magic system is both simple and complex. In a sense. Both Hunters and Spirits range from D-rank (the lowest) to S-rank (the ultimate tier). So, a D-rank Hunter is slightly on the same level as a D-rank Spirit.

Almost. But not entirely the same. All because of experience and consumption of life forces…

Which is where Quinn's Divinity Path comes in.

Quinn didn't want to admit it. But these pieces of information interested him. After all, his senior had perfectly gatekept everything till now.

While both Hunters and Spirits have similar letter rankings, a system differentiates them.

Power Manifest.

The visible expression of an innate potential within a person or object. Silas called it "rank" last time. But the Curse called it "Power Manifest".

Thus, the Manifest of Spirits ranges from God to Undead. This implies that the kind of magic they express... like the creation of dimensions and nullifying abilities—is their Manifest.

And the pattern that ties each level of Manifest is that the base one complements the topmost. For instance, an undead won't die easily. Same as a creature at god level.

Consequently, Hunters have their separate Power Manifest. This part grabbed Quinn immediately.

Spirit Hunters are classified based on their Divinity Path.

So, Quinn's Manifest was Dark Divinity. Or the Path of Damnation.

Divinity Path was simply the path to godhood. The journey of transcendence where a mortal follows a growth to become god.

Another Divinity Path was Heaven's Divinity (or Path of the Anointed). The journey to become a Divine Avatar.

For Quinn? His last stage of divine progression was…

[... the Demon Lord.]

Quinn smirked.

"You must hate me that much."

His stomach slightly churned.

The screen flashed before his eyes the thousandth time,

[To ascend from one Divine Path to another, you must collect Soul Fragments.]

[Both Spirits and Hunters produce Soul Fragments after death.]

[40 Soul Fragments = 1 Soul Essence.]

[Current Divine Path: Disciple.]

[1 Soul Essence is required to ascend to the next level.]

[You have one unread message.]

Quinn hesitated. Because what else could that be if not another piece of evidence he'd end up a monster?

But anyway, he clicked "Read".

[You have unlocked a new ability.]

[Moon Spawn.]

Quinn creased his brows, waiting for the description. And it came:

[Once activated, you can easily transcend into a Spirit's subconscious. There are no bounds to what you can uncover.]

This ability… can really do that?!

Why was he waiting for then?

Holding his fists tight, Quinn asked in a serious tone,

"I want to see that of the Spirit I just summoned. Can you make that possible?"

Seconds later, the Curse responded,

[Permission granted.]

Quinn sighed with relief.

[You can't stay longer than two minutes. Because the Spirit has already been sentenced.]

[Warning: Don't listen to any voice. You might not make it out alive.]

The warning made his chest pound.

But Quinn didn't want to miss this chance either. He needed answers from Mr Miller.

In the blink of an eye, darkness overtook the orange light in the sky. The void returned. But this time, the spotlight was cast on both him and the figure that just manifested.

Mr Miller's dark side, who was grinning widely. Quinn knew that was the Spirit.

He gritted his teeth.

Then, immediately, the Spirit vanished. Disintegrated into embers that drifted mid-air.

But that wasn't the end of it.

The spotlight left Quinn in the darkness again. Then a silvery moon gently appeared, about five metres to his left.

It sat there, as though watching him. And most importantly, as if showing him some respect.

The moon slowly illuminated everywhere with its silver light. Buildings formed before Quinn. Paths, humans, and cars slipped into place like broken chess pieces.

Quinn couldn't help. But watch the mystery unfold with parted lips.

In a matter of seconds, he was standing at the front of a building he knew so well.

The Kingslanding school.

Then a shadow closely passed by his side. Someone in tailored black suits, holding a black briefcase, walked ahead.

Quinn caught the resemblance of the back view instantly. Without thinking much, he shouted,

"Mr Miller!"

But the man didn't stop walking. Like he didn't hear him at all.

Quinn then rushed closer and tried to grab him. But his hand passed right through the man's body and came back out. Like air. Like something intangible.

He froze and stared at his hands.

That was when he realised that in this world, he was an illusion. Only his soul was here. But his body was still in the real world.

… Quinn decided to shadow Mr Miller. To the school's science laboratory.

The air had a mix of scents – pungent, antiseptic.

None of the other teachers minded the man's presence. They just continued with their chatter. Because can you notice something invisible?

No.

Exactly.

That was the same reason why they didn't care about Mr Miller.

Later on, Quinn followed him into his personal lab. Seconds ticked. Minutes ticked. But the man sat in silence, holding his head in clear frustration.

Quinn's chest pounded.

Why is he so damn quiet?

Then, all of a sudden, Mr Miller groaned aloud. Sweeping the laboratory equipment down the table in fury. Metals clattered. Glasses shattered.

Mr Miller breathed erratically, helplessly looking here and there.

"I… I have tried so many times. But why won't it work? Simple conversions! But the bloody numbers spiral into infinity once I introduce a constant. It just won't yield! Even though the goddamn equations work. They're alive. But everything is nothing without the last factor."

Quinn blinked.

Should a mere high school equation exert this much frustration?

The unnerving question brought him to walk closer. And peep at the papers scattered all over the table. Just some… strange, complex equations.

'What is he up to?'

At that moment, Mr Miller rushed rightwards. Into a narrow corner.

Quinn's brows creased as he followed closely.

Mid-step, the man's phone rang. He picked it up, putting it on speaker before continuing walking.

Each step felt desperate. Too much.

Quinn heard the caller ask,

"Any progress?"

That voice sounded familiar. Could it be…?

Mr Miller hesitated to answer. He stopped. A hand clasping his waist. He stared at the ceiling.

With a bit of a shaky voice,

"Yes, yes, yes… I'm trying my best. It just remains one thing that… Are you there, Mr Rothfuss?"

"... I'm all ears."

Quinn's jaw dropped.

'The principal?!'

Mr Miller started pacing here and there. It was like he was trying hard to find the right words. The way someone does when they want to deliver negative news. But in a slightly positive way.

Taking a deep breath, he responded,

"I-I just need to get what the last factor is. Or else, the equation continues resonating to no end. Once I find the resonance factor, everything will be done. Seriously! The chamber will be completed. And we could be able to rewrite the human condition. It'll create gods! Just give me a little more time. Just a little bit more, please."

Quinn's heartbeat drummed in his head. Just another human to show he's the king of disappointment. He knew this man had big dreams. But not crazy ones.

Trying to create superhumans, huh? How absurd.

The principal then warned, his voice cascading gently from the phone,

"Handle everything on time. Let the project flop. And we're both dead."

Mr Miller nodded. And whispered,

"It won't."

Then he hung up the call.

Immediately, he proceeded down the narrow path. He reached a blue iron door which Quinn recognised to be the one that was always set off boundary.

Mr Miller fetched the key. And unlocked it.

The door creaked open.

Quinn followed inside.

But what he saw next made his breath freeze.

He smelled decay. And immediately pinned his arm to his nose.

His legs jerked back without him realising it. Quinn had to clasp the doorframe to prevent himself from falling.

Metres away from him were three beds. Laid on by three different students. Two males. And a girl who had once randomly waved at him during class.

And what made Quinn's skin crawl even more was the towering machine in the middle of the room.

Its humming coils spread across the floor. With some being attached to each of the students. A huge glass tube, at the centre of the machine, glowed with green light.

Judging by the decaying scent in here, the students' corpses had been rotting for days now.

"How could he do this?"

Mr Miller also checked the life machines. And all three showed flatlines.

He sat on a chair nearby in silence.

Then he let out a bitter laugh.

"Another failed subject…"

Quinn's breathing shook. He trusted this bastard. How could he?

Mr Miller sighed.

But suddenly, as he rose from the chair, he stopped.

And looked directly towards him.

Quinn held his jaw tight.

The man tilted his head. Eyes narrowing, like he was staring through Quinn.

"... Who are you?"

Quinn frowned. It was at that moment that the screen flashed up:

[Time exceeded.]

[Implication: Permanent trap.]