A steady beeping invaded my senses. I listened to it in the black nothing that was otherwise the extent of my consciousness. All I knew was that beeping. Regular. Pervasive. Annoying.
The pulsing sound merged with a visual that swam into my vision out of the darkness. It pulsed in time with a glowing outline of a rectangle with the word “Quest”.
What the hell?
I hadn’t had time for games since mom died, but the term was familiar enough. In a game.
I had no idea what it was doing here as the only thing I was aware of other than the incessant beeping. It just kept flashing insistently.
Normally you’d click on a button like this, but I had no mouse or controller, of course. I went to stretch out my hand to touch it, but nothing happened. I couldn’t feel any connection to my body. I had no idea if I actually moved my arm.
The button just sat there blinking at me in the otherwise black nothing.
I slowly became aware of more in my surroundings. A whiteness crept into the edges of my vision, and a murmur of voices added to the beeping. A grid of silver lines swam into focus, the white becoming textured, and I realized I was staring at a tiled ceiling.
Well, I guess I wasn’t dead.
But the button in my vision I thought was a hallucination was still there, pulsing in time with the beeping I now recognized as some kind of medical monitor.
I turned my head to look around, and I could suddenly feel my body again. Everything hurt. The murmured voices resolved into actual words.
“He’s awake. Let them know, and message the doctor.”
A door closed quietly and a face loomed over me. It was a young woman, about my age, in green scrubs. “How are you feeling?”
My patched throat betrayed my efforts to answer her. She noticed the croaks as I struggled and quickly handed me a cup of water from nearby, lifting me up by one arm so I could drink.
“Just sip,” she suggested.
I lifted the cup to my mouth and sipped, the cool water soothing even as the first swallows wracked my throat. It was then that I realized that the arm she was holding was complete, while I used the other to drink the water.
“What happened to my arm?!”
The young woman looked puzzled. “Nothing happened to it. We didn’t do anything to it. No surgery.” She paused for a moment.“In fact there’s nothing wrong with you at all. No wounds, and your blood work is clear. You’ve just been asleep for three days.”
I slipped my arm free of her hand, and felt my neck. I was certain that the arm had been sliced off, and I could still feel the cold steel against my skin.. But the evidence here was that none of those had happened. My arm was whole, and my throat was obviously uncut.
And that incessant blinking button was still in my vision.
I waved at it, hoping I could get it to go away now that I was awake.
My hand just passed through it, but at least it stopped blinking. It wasn’t an improvement though, as now my vision was filled with text layered on a semi-transparent blue background.
“Are you okay?” asked the Nurse. “Is your vision still blurry?”
I looked at her through the text and it disappeared. Even that damned button was gone.
Well that was fucking weird.
Before I could gather my thoughts, the door opened without a knock, and two men entered as if they owned the space. Two very serious men, in very serious suits. One of them gestured to the open door and spoke to the nurse. “Give us the room, please.”
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His tone made it clear he wasn’t actually asking. They were both silent until the nurse closed the door behind her.
“We’re with the Hunters Association Surveillance Division,” they both flipped open a small wallet showing their photo and the Associations emblem. “We need to ask you a few questions.”
Showing their ID was a little pointless —I had no idea what they were supposed to look like. Also, what the hell? I had barely woken up after almost dying, and they were acting like I’d done something wrong and started the interrogation already.
But I couldn’t afford to complain. The higher your Rank was, the more toothless The Association became, but the Surveillance Division was no joke. They somehow managed to hire top-tier Hunters into their ranks, and had been known to crack down hard on Hunters who broke the rules.
But I was still going to ask my question first, the most important one: “Juna–and Parker. Are they okay?”
The two men glanced at each before one answered, “Yes, they’re okay. As are the other three who made it out. You’re the sixth survivor, but you didn’t come out with the others. Can you tell us what happened in there? Start with the doors to the extra area.”
As I recounted the massacre to the two men they simply nodded and took notes in identical notebooks. They really only got interested after I explained how I watched Juna and Parker escape.
One of them leaned forward. “And after they passed the threshold, then what happened?”
I wasn’t going to tell them about my pathetically futile efforts to forestall my demise.
“I died. The Knights stabbed me and cut my throat.”
The two Surveillance Agents looked uncomfortable.
“That doesn’t line up with our version of events. Obviously, " one gestured at me, “you’re not dead, for a start.”
If I hadn’t wanted to describe my pathetic death, I really didn’t want to talk about the strange voice I heard in the black nothing on the other side.
“That’s the last thing I remember before waking up here. What happened?”
The two men looked at each again, and one nodded. The one who was talking earlier continued. “When your companions exited The Veil Gate, it was clear that it would not be closed in time, and preparations were made for a breach.”
That was what I expected. A Veil Breach, even from a D-Rank Gate, could be dangerous. The monsters from the Veil spilled out and would destroy the area around the Gate for several days before it closed by itself. Military weapons could only achieve so much against the creatures, so it took a concerted and coordinated effort by both Hunters and Military to fortify and defend against a breach.
The suited man explained further, “You can imagine the surprise when the Veil Gate closed by itself while fortifications were still being constructed. And when the location of the Veil Gate was inspected, guess what was found in its place?”
That was such an obvious leading question I couldn’t help but answer, “I’m guessing you found me.”
The man nodded. “Exactly. Your unconscious body was lying where the Veil Gate was. You know that Veil Gates only closes when the boss is killed. Do you have any ideas why it might have closed when by all accounts your party never engaged the actual boss?”
That was an excellent question. So far as I knew, the raid had failed with my death. The voice I heard as everything faded—could that have anything to do with it? Or was it just a near death hallucination and I was never dead.
If so, then how did I survive the Knights? And who killed the boss if everyone escaped?
I had as many questions as the Surveillance Agents, so I couldn’t give them any answers. I settled for a shrug.
“No. Like I said, all I remember is being killed, then waking up here.”
The two men leaned forward. The other one spoke. “Are you sure that’s all that happened after the others left?”
I swallowed nervously and nodded.
“Then you won’t mind if we test your Rank?” He lifted up a small case by the handle. “They’re not the most accurate, but the portable meters are good enough for an approximation to sort into Ranks.”
That seemed strange. They usually only tested your Rank once, because while you could always improve your skills, even the most intensive training could only increase your raw power by an incremental amount. You’d have to train for centuries before it increased enough to jump a Rank. There should be no reason to retest someone, unless…
“You think my Rank Test was wrong?” I was getting a little heated now.
The two men shifted uncomfortably. “That’s one possibility.”
I suddenly realized what they were getting at. Some Hunters hid their Ranks and registered at a lower Rank so they could access lower Rank Dungeons. I couldn’t understand why anyone would want to do that, but I’d heard the rumors.
Bitterness crept into my tone. “I’m definitely E-Rank. You think I’d be getting hurt this much for getting paid this little? Haven’t you guys heard of the World’s Weakest Hunter?”
“Mr. Hunter.”
I flinched at my ironic surname, like I usually did.
“This is just a formality. Protocol is to verify your Rank before we close this session.”
I sighed and nodded. “Fine. Let’s do it then.”
The man with the case flipped it open and sat it in the bed next to me. Inside was a flat metal plate, a small screen with The Hunters Association logo on it, and several buttons.
“Just place your hand on the plate.”

