Chapter 763

A thought is only a thought until it becomes reality. But the moment it forms a complete sentence and flows out as a voice, it gains influence.

Just like now.

“I have witnessed countless deaths.”

A sorrowful voice rang out. Standing tall before countless cameras and microphones, Michael Silbert slowly continued.

“In the slums of Paris, teeming with flies and gangs. On the countless battlefields of the Great Cataclysm. And ever since the day of victory when the Demon King Asmodeus fell. I have continued to witness them.”

Bzzzz.

The faint hum of the cameras sounded unusually loud.

No one so much as swallowed. The reporters watched Michael with an anticipation they couldn’t quite explain.

This is…

Something’s coming!

At first, they’d wondered why he had suddenly started spouting nonsense. All they’d wanted was a friendly shot of the two heroes—one old enough to be the other’s father—with their arms around each other’s shoulders, and perhaps a few warm words.

Jin Taekyung was supposed to be the star today. Michael was merely the spotlight that would make him shine all the brighter.

Until he opened his mouth.

“Yet through all those deaths, I held on to one hope. One dream. With the Demon King Asmodeus and his monster army gone, I believed that someday every conflict would end and true peace would come.”

His tone rose and fell distinctly, and his expression was filled with appeal.

Michael Silbert’s appearance, compelling everyone who saw and heard him to focus, was reflected in the camera lenses.

Around the world, people watching live leaned closer to their living-room televisions, their computer monitors, the smartphones in their hands.

“Mom. Dad. I need to watch my cartoon…”

“Shh, Peter. Be quiet for a moment.”

└ What the fuck is No Jaehun doing? I called for a gank, and the bastard went AFK. └ What’s up with Jaehun? Fight with his girlfriend? Are we surrendering this match?

“It’s not that. I was watching an iTube live stream. Never mind—I’ll put the link in the group chat. Take a look.”

└ What girlfriend? That bastard doesn’t have one. It’s just not his promotion match, so he doesn’t give a shi—Munich live? What’s this?

Dozens of television channels and streaming sites carrying the broadcast lit up with activity. Their audiences multiplied, and the viewers watched with bated breath.

On-screen, Jin Taekyung stood grim-faced while Michael spoke one step ahead of him. Michael’s voice carried to them all.

“I have waited a long time. I have hesitated. But I stand here today to tell you one thing—for our faith in peace, and for a better future.”

Michael drew a breath. So did everyone watching him.

Then his voice emerged, dry as sand.

“A second war is nearly upon us.”

“…!”

“…!”

Invisible agitation and shock waves swept through every direction.

An office worker flipping through channels after work. A couple passing beneath a huge billboard. A teenager who had paused his game and opened the stream to kill time. The reporters standing right in front of Michael.

At that moment, they doubted their own eyes and ears before falling into extreme confusion.

A second war.

Everyone knew what those few words meant. Someone gave voice to it in something like a groan.

“The Great Cataclysm…?”

How could they not know? It was humanity’s clearest nightmare, a memory seared into them by fear: the worst Great War in history, which had covered the Five Oceans and Six Continents in blood and corpses.

And now Michael Silbert was saying that very Great Cataclysm would begin again. He was declaring that a second war had arrived.

Before them. No, before the entire world.

That’s… impossible.

It can’t happen. It can’t.

Yet no one could bring themselves to say it. Denial had come with another, paralyzing thought.

What if he’s telling the truth?

A second Great Cataclysm could not happen. It must not happen.

But people had sensed something wrong. Deep down, they had been feeling their way around the shape of that fear.

The signs were already there.

Magical power levels rose by the day. Strange phenomena grew more frequent. Only a few months ago, an Arch Lich had appeared in Sichuan Province, China, and Monster Waves triggered with Magic Gems had followed one another across the world.

Scholars had studied that method of terrorism long ago. The leading experts in magical power had agreed it was impossible—unless the world’s magical power reached a certain limit.

Today, Michael Silbert was telling them it had.

“Perhaps calling it a second war is wrong. But one thing is certain: what you and I believed was the end of the war was only a ceasefire.”

“…!”

“I tell you now: the magical power throughout our world has already passed its critical threshold. A disaster like the one we faced before will engulf the entire world.”

People could barely breathe.

This wasn’t some drunk rambling in a neighborhood bar. It was a declaration from Michael Silbert—a hero of the Great Cataclysm who had remained at the forefront ever since, a giant who led the world’s greatest Guild.

One of the stunned reporters managed to ask, his voice shaking, “D-Does that mean the Demon King… Does it mean Asmodeus is coming back?”

“On the Day of Victory, during the final battle that decided humanity’s fate, the Demon King was undoubtedly erased without leaving so much as a trace. I saw it clearly with my own eyes, so that is an indisputable fact. However…”

Michael Silbert hesitated for a moment before adding, “Now, no one can be certain. No one can be certain what will happen in the future, or even whether the Demon King Asmodeus was truly erased.”

“Ah… Ahh.”

“How can this be…?”

Cameras shook. The reporters’ dismayed voices came through the microphones and went out to the world.

No one watching from elsewhere complained about the disruption. They were no calmer than the people on-site. The terror they had refused to face had finally taken shape, and they trembled at the truth they had tried to ignore.

An unpredictable future. No—a disaster.

And the possibility that the Demon King Asmodeus might return.

Fear spread through their minds like dark clouds. Whether they watched Michael Silbert on a screen or stood before him, their eyes shook. They wanted him to take it all back. They even entertained the absurd hope that he might laugh and say it had been a joke.

His next words crushed it.

“Peace—or what we thought was peace—is over.”

Michael looked into the camera. His sorrow and anger seemed almost tangible.

At least, they did to the people watching him.

“The war has already begun. We must fight, without hesitation and without taking a single step back.”

His voice trembled between his lips like a wave. Michael Silbert poured out his words as though sobbing, as though pleading, then clenched his teeth.

“Together! More united than ever before!”

His reddened eyes burned, and his cry thundered through the microphones.

The cameras no longer showed Jin Taekyung. Every light, every spotlight, was fixed on one man.

Michael Silbert.

In the eyes of the people, he looked like a fighter filled with determination.

In his own mind, he was already a hero and a king. A hero offering a path to people in crisis. A sovereign who would reign over the world.

Amid the trembling air and countless watching eyes, Michael took his final step. He spoke the words he had waited for this day to say.

The World Hunter Federation.

Everyone caught their breath. The air seemed to go still beneath the overwhelming aura radiating from him.

“A federation encompassing every nation, bound by no restrictions. The very World Hunter Federation that saved us—all humanity—from the Great Cataclysm. Its return…”

He let the words trail off. His eyes shone as he gazed toward the hundreds of millions, perhaps billions, watching him around the world. Then he released the breath he had been holding.

“I dare to propose it here today.”

“…!”

“…!”

The return of an international organization that stood above every law and restriction.

An unseen shock swept through the crowd, then traveled through cameras, microphones, and broadcasts to every corner of the world.

And just as everyone watching was seized by shock and an emotion they could not name, a voice shattered it all.

“Go fuck yourself.”

Hundreds of reporters. The German soldiers and police holding them back. Even the other Hunters who had arrived late.

Countless eyes turned toward me.

Beyond the gleaming camera lenses, I could almost feel the unseen gazes and voices pouring in like a wave.

I didn’t care. Or rather, I couldn’t spare them a thought.

So that was it.

I felt as though I’d been hit in the back of the head. My vision swam.

Inside my mind, which looked as though a kindergartner’s playroom had been turned upside down, the words I had just heard rang out with perfect clarity.

The World Hunter Federation.

Thirty-odd years later, all that remained of those old heroes’ organization bore the name International Hunter Federation.

Age, gender, nationality, race—even the law had meant nothing to the Hunters who followed humanity’s savior, Cheon Taemin. That was the World Hunter Federation.

They had fought solely for humanity’s survival and won at the cost of countless lives. Then, as soon as the Demon King Asmodeus fell, they had gone their separate ways.

And he wants to bring that World Hunter Federation back?

Of course I respected the people who had fought in it, just as everyone else did. They had fought for all of us. And when the war ended, they had surrendered that immense power without regret.

But this was different.

The World Hunter Federation Michael Silbert dreamed of was nothing more than a kingdom for one man.

So I said it again, in front of everyone.

“Go fuck yourself.”

“…!”

“…!”

People stared, unable to believe what they’d heard. Then a quiet voice reached my ears and threw my thoughts into turmoil all over again.

—Think it over one more time before you speak.

Michael Silbert.

The man who had driven the world into crisis so he could climb that crisis like a staircase to a throne.

The schemer in a hero’s mask smiled at me. His snake-like eyes glinted as he looked past my shoulder at someone behind me.

—If only for the sake of your monster friend.