System Mission: Seduce the Strongest S-Class Hunters or Die Trying!-Chapter 207: [BRINGING UP ORION]

"A lab... made by a human..."

The moment the words left Eli’s mouth, the room erupted.

Not shouting—but the sharp, overlapping murmur of disbelief.

"A lab made by a human?"

"How are you sure it was human-made?"

"That’s impossible."

"Could it have been an illusion?" 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

"What kind of lab was it?"

"How do you know it wasn’t just another dungeon construct?"

Eli didn’t speak over them.

He knew better.

This wasn’t small information—it was the kind that shattered assumptions. He waited as the room buzzed with confusion and speculation, heart pounding while the weight of countless eyes bore down on him.

’They’re not wrong... it sounds insane.’

When the noise began to settle, Eli glanced toward Midas. Even the Chairman seemed momentarily stunned—his expression carefully composed, but clearly shaken beneath the surface.

That alone told Eli just how serious this revelation was.

He took a steady breath.

"To answer everyone’s questions—yes," he said. "I’m certain it was a human-made lab."

The room quieted again.

"When I was taken there, I had time to look around. There were machines—real machinery. Tubes. Containers filled with strange liquids. Equipment arranged like someone had actually worked there, like experiments had taken place." He paused briefly. "But it was abandoned. Everything was worn down... aged. Dust-coated, corroded—like it had been untouched for a very long time."

His gaze flicked toward Caelen and Kairo.

Caelen gave a faint nod—they had seen the place too, even if they hadn’t had time to process it properly before the dungeon’s exit had appeared.

Kairo remained motionless, but his eyes were on Eli—focused. Quietly intense.

"We can assume the lab was experimenting on the monsters," Eli continued. "Or... creating them. I don’t know the method, but it may explain why some of the creatures resembled Aerth animals."

His hand drifted unconsciously to his wrist—where Wormy remained hidden beneath his sleeve.

’And maybe why you exist too...’

Swallowing, he forced himself to go on.

"And the reason I know it belonged to a human is because..." Eli’s fingers curled into tight fists.

"...I found a photograph."

The word sent a ripple through the room.

"I wasn’t able to bring it today, but the picture showed a scientist. He looked human. Pale skin, normal features... except he had white hair, which was unusual." Eli hesitated. "But nothing about him appeared monstrous or magical."

He lifted his eyes fully now.

"He looked like a person from Aerth."

The room felt heavier.

Like a truth settling slowly into place.

"And I believe..." Eli added quietly, "he was the one who owned that lab."

"You never told us about a photograph," Kairo murmured quietly at Eli’s side.

"I was too busy being traumatized," Eli whispered back without looking at him.

Kairo blinked, clearly unsure if that was a joke or not.

’I’m not joking. I’m just not going to elaborate either.’

The bitterness curled in Eli’s chest despite himself. He knew, logically, that it wasn’t fair to resent them for how everything unfolded—they hadn’t known what he knew. They hadn’t felt what he felt.

But it still stung.

Because that dungeon had been traumatizing.

And the moment Caelen and Kairo arrived, all they did was fight—their power tearing through the battlefield like Eli wasn’t even there.

Now he knew why.

Brothers.

Of course they were.

And not once did either of them bother to mention it.

So why should Eli bare every fragile piece of information to them when they hadn’t shared anything either?

’You wouldn’t have...’

His thought cut off when Midas’ voice came through the microphone again.

"Can you bring that photograph to us? For analysis purposes," he asked. "I’m quite curious—and this may prove groundbreaking for our research."

Eli nodded once. "Of course. I’ll bring it as soon as I can."It would be safer in the hands of the Hunter Association than anywhere else.

A moment later, another hand rose.

Samantha Park.

"Yes, Samantha?" Midas acknowledged.

Her gaze was sharp as she spoke. "Is it even possible? If this dungeon really had a human-made lab with a living—or formerly living—human inside, wouldn’t that normally cause an immediate collapse or explosion?"

The room shifted.

"As far as we know," Samantha continued, "anything—or anyone—not native to the dungeon destabilizes it when left inside. That destabilization caused the tears in Korenea. And whatever remained in Lion’s Fang’s S-Class dungeon led to a massive explosion—"

"Oh hoho," Zacharias cut in sharply, rising halfway from his seat. "Are you seriously bringing that up now?"

Samantha turned her glare toward him. "It has been part of this discussion the entire time. I’m just using it as a clear example."

"Or," Zacharias snapped, "you just want to keep rubbing our guild’s mistake in our faces."

"Mistake?" Samantha shot back. "There are still dimensional tears appearing and monsters pouring into our world. That’s not a mistake, that’s a catastrophe—"

"Enough."

Midas’ voice cracked through the rising argument like a whip.

Both Samantha and Zacharias stiffened, immediately falling silent as their attention snapped to him.

The tension lingered thick in the room.

Eli let out a slow breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

’They’re still thinking of fighting in this situation...?’

Surrounded by legends and heroes, Eli couldn’t help thinking that sometimes, even the strongest people were still just... people.

’I swear, these are grown adults.’

And grown adults, apparently, never stopped being messy.

"I understand your concerns," Midas said calmly, his voice carrying the quiet authority that instantly settled the room. "But I believe whatever has been happening... has already gone far beyond what we currently understand."

He paused, then turned his gaze toward Eli.

"There is no reason not to believe Elione."

Eli’s eyes widened slightly.

The tension coiled in his chest loosened for the first time since stepping up to the podium.

He hadn’t realized how badly he needed someone—anyone—to take him seriously until it finally happened.

’He... fully believes me. No hesitation. No doubt. Wow.’

Eli found himself smiling back without even meaning to.

Midas continued, turning to the crowd. "At present, this is the most substantial lead we possess. The presence of a human-made lab could explain not only what we are seeing—but possibly how, or why, Caelen and his team gained sudden access to that dungeon."

His attention shifted to Caelen.

"According to their reports... the gate simply appeared. There was no summoning attempt, no ritual activity, no trigger event."

Caelen gave a short nod in confirmation.

"They were not doing anything out of the ordinary."

Midas moved on smoothly. "And there is no reason for them to lie." His eyes swept briefly across the room. "The available footage from the room they occupied prior to the gate appearing corroborates their statements completely."

The murmurs dwindled again.

"This case is riddled with anomalies," Midas said. "And at this stage, all information—no matter how strange—is valuable."

Eli let out a careful breath.

There was still one piece of information he hadn’t told them.

One detail that lingered like a thorn in his mind—something that could actually help, especially if they were trying to trace the scientist’s identity... to figure out whether he truly came from Aerth.

A name.

A name that haunted his memories even when he wasn’t thinking about it.

The name the serpent had hissed with its dying breath.

The name printed beneath the photograph of the man in the lab coat.

Before he could stop himself—

"Orion," Eli murmured under his breath.

The word slipped free like he hadn’t even chosen to say it.

His eyes widened instantly.

’What—why did I say that?’

"Pardon?" Midas asked gently. "Did you say something else, Elione?"

"Oh—no. I—I—did I?" Eli stammered, heat climbing up his neck. "I—"

He cut himself off, heart suddenly racing for reasons he couldn’t explain.

Because something deep inside him screamed that he shouldn’t say that name aloud.

’Don’t. Don’t say it. Don’t let anyone hear it.’

But he didn’t know why.

He didn’t understand where that instinct came from, or why it felt so urgent—so desperate—as if crossing that invisible line would change everything.

What made it worse was the irony of it all.

His body was the one that betrayed him first.

And now that same body was telling him to shut up.

Eli swallowed hard, fingers tightening against the podium until his knuckles nearly ached.

’Why can’t I say it?’

He had the name.

He had more information—pieces that could matter, pieces that could connect everything.

He should say it.

So why did his chest feel like it was being squeezed shut every time he tried?

A sudden sound broke the silence beside him.

"Ah."

Eli turned his head.

It was Caelen.

Caelen’s eyes were wide—not mischievous, not smug—but strangely alert, as if something had just clicked in his head. Recognition.

He lifted his gaze toward Midas.

The room followed his movement effortlessly.

"Orion," Caelen said.

The name rang through the air like a dropped blade.

Eli tensed instantly.

’Oh, come on.’

"The serpent—the SS-Class boss..." Caelen continued, voice steady but carrying an edge he didn’t usually show. "It spoke a word. Just one. The word was ’Orion.’ I didn’t think it was relevant at the time, but then I remembered that—"

He stopped.

Mid-suggest, mid-thought—

Just stopped.

Too clean.

Too sudden.

Like someone had slammed a mental door shut.

For a heartbeat, he remained frozen there, mouth slightly open... staring straight at Midas.

Midas stared back.

Expressionless.

Silent.

The kind of stillness that felt deliberate.

Then, without another word, Caelen turned away from the podium and faced the crowd again—completely composed, as if he hadn’t spoken at all.

As if nothing had happened.

Eli’s brows furrowed.

’What... just happened?’

The moment felt wrong.

Too wrong.

Caelen wasn’t the type to hesitate. He never cut himself off. Ever. And now he had looked like someone yanked a memory—or a sentence—right out of him.

Eli’s stomach churned.

’Did... something stop him?’