Morning came quietly.
Too quietly.
Han Chandu was already awake.
Sitting.
Still.
The room remained silent.
No movement.
No distraction.
Only thought.
Three days.
Not much time.
Not enough for mistakes.
A knock came.
Soft.
Familiar.
Han Sen.
"…you up?"
Han Chandu opened the door.
Han Sen walked in without waiting.
"…we start now."
No greeting.
No delay.
Because both of them already understood.
Time—
Was already moving.
Han Chandu nodded.
"…gear."
Han Sen smirked faintly.
"…always ready."
They didn't waste another second.
Both stepped onto their teleportation devices.
Light spread.
The room disappeared.
The Sanctuary.
The air felt heavier.
Colder.
Different.
Like always.
But something—
Was slightly off.
Not obvious.
But there.
Han Chandu stepped forward.
His eyes moved across the forest.
Calm.
Observing.
Han Sen stretched lightly.
"…same place?"
Han Chandu nodded.
"…we don't go deep."
Han Sen didn't argue.
Because risk—
Was not needed right now.
They moved.
Fast.
Controlled.
Through the trees.
The forest remained quiet.
Too quiet.
No sudden attacks.
No movement.
Just stillness.
Han Sen frowned slightly.
"…feels empty."
Han Chandu didn't respond.
But his gaze sharpened.
Because empty—
Didn't mean safe.
They continued.
Until—
A sound.
Light.
Subtle.
From the side.
Both stopped.
Instantly.
Their bodies tensed.
Ready.
Waiting.
Then—
It appeared.
A creature.
Small.
Thin.
Ordinary level.
But—
Something felt wrong.
Its movements—
Too stiff.
Too slow.
Then suddenly—
It moved.
Fast.
Too fast for its level.
Han Sen reacted instantly.
Dodged.
"…what—"
The creature lunged again.
Clumsy—
But aggressive.
Unstable.
Han Chandu stepped in.
Precise.
His strike landed cleanly.
The creature collapsed.
Dead.
Silence returned.
Han Sen stared at it.
"…that wasn't normal."
Han Chandu didn't reply.
He crouched slightly.
Looked at the body.
The outer skin—
Unchanged.
But something—
Felt off.
Han Sen exhaled slowly.
"…weird movement."
Han Chandu stood up.
"…don't stay."
Han Sen nodded immediately.
"…yeah."
No argument.
Because both of them felt it.
Something—
Was different.
They moved again.
Faster now.
More alert.
The forest seemed the same.
But it wasn't.
A few minutes passed.
Then—
Another one.
This time—
Larger.
Primitive level.
It stood still.
Watching them.
Then—
It charged.
Fast.
Too direct.
Han Sen stepped forward.
His strike met it head-on.
The impact—
Heavy.
But not stable.
The creature stumbled.
Han Chandu moved from the side.
Clean.
Precise.
The kill was instant.
No struggle.
No resistance.
Again—
Silence.
Han Sen exhaled.
"…they're acting strange."
Han Chandu didn't answer.
But his eyes—
Were already moving.
Scanning.
Because now—
It was clearer.
Not stronger.
Not smarter.
Just—
Wrong.
Unstable.
Han Sen wiped his hand.
"…easy kills though."
Han Chandu glanced at him.
Briefly.
"…don't rely on it."
Han Sen smirked faintly.
"…yeah, yeah."
But he understood.
Easy now—
Didn't mean safe later.
They continued hunting.
Carefully.
Taking down targets.
One by one.
Clean.
Efficient.
No wasted movement.
No unnecessary risk.
Time passed.
The count increased.
Bodies left behind.
Silent forest watching.
Han Sen breathed out slowly.
"…this should be enough for today."
Han Chandu nodded.
"…we return."
No greed.
No overhunting.
Because exhaustion—
Was dangerous.
They turned back.
Moving through the forest.
Fast.
Controlled.
The shelter appeared ahead.
Silent.
Waiting.
They entered.
Without delay.
Straight to the rooms.
Han Sen stopped at his door.
"…same tomorrow."
Han Chandu nodded.
"…yes."
Han Sen smirked slightly.
"…don't get killed."
Then entered.
The door closed.
Han Chandu moved to his own.
Opened it.
Entered.
The teleportation device waited.
Silent.
He stepped onto it.
Light spread.
The Alliance.
His room.
Quiet.
Still.
Han Chandu stepped forward.
Sat down.
Calm.
Low-key.
But his mind—
Was not at rest.
The creatures.
Their movement.
Their instability.
Not normal.
Not random.
But he didn't say it.
Didn't confirm it.
Because he didn't need to.
Not yet.
Three days.
Still counting.
He closed his eyes.
Not sleeping.
Just waiting.
Because whatever had started—
Wasn't finished.
And when it was—
It wouldn't stay small.
Not anymore.