Evolving Infinitely From An E-Class Hero-Chapter 102: Men In Monsters

The Apostle sat on the couch, his black coat shimmering like liquid shadow under the living room’s dim light. His presence filled the space, not just physically but in a way that pressed against my senses, like a storm cloud hovering too close.

I leaned back in my chair, arms crossed, trying to match his intensity. My mom lingered by the kitchen doorway, her glass of water untouched and her gaze darting between us like she was piecing together a puzzle. She wasn’t supposed to be part of this, but good luck telling her that.

"So, Mr. Renly," The Apostle said, his voice low and deliberate, "I noticed your Tactical Swarm Drones have been scouring the train site. What do you know about Bakuzan?"

I shrugged, frustration crept behind me.

"Urghhh! Nothing. He’s a ghost. No tracks, no leads. My drones have swept every inch of that wreckage, nothing but rubble, its almost as if he disappeared into thin air."

I glanced at the coffee table, where a small drone hovered silently, its golden light blinking as it relayed real-time data.

Still nothing.

The Apostle’s eyes narrowed, sharp as a blade. "Then you need to hear this."

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and the air seemed to thicken.

"A survivor from the train site saw something... unnatural. Men, ordinary men twisting into wolf-like Calamity Creatures. Claws like steel, eyes glowing red, bodies morphing into exactly the type that rampaged through the woods. And they moved on Bakuzan’s command."

Kpim!

My pulse quickened, and I sat up straighter.

"What?!"

"He’s making them? Or controlling them?"

The information hit me like a freight train. Calamity Creatures were bad enough—monstrous beasts that appeared without warning, leveling structures if heroes didn’t stop them. But humans transforming into them? Under someone’s orders? That was a whole new level of nightmare.

"Either way," The Apostle said, "he’s linked. And it’s bigger than we thought." His voice carried a weight that made the room feel smaller, like the walls were closing in.

I caught my Mom’s sharp inhale from the kitchen, her glass clinking softly against the counter. Her eyes were wide now, not just curious but scared. I shot her a look: "stay out of this" but she didn’t budge.

Typical.

She’d always been nosy about my hero work, but this was different. This was Bakuzan, the Hero Hunter, and whatever game he was playing could end us all.

I turned back to The Apostle, my mind racing. "If Bakuzan’s behind the Calamity Creatures, this isn’t just a hunt. It’s a war on everything we stand for. Heroes, civilians, the whole system."

My voice was steady, but inside, I was recalculating every move I’d made since the train site attack. Had I missed something? A clue my drones overlooked?

The Apostle nodded, as if he’d expected my reaction.

"Which is why I brought this." He reached into his coat and pulled out a sleek, palm-sized device that hummed faintly.

With a flick of his wrist, a hologram flickered to life, casting a blue glow across the room. The image stabilized, revealing Thunderlash. His scarred face was grim, his eyes haunted.

Whirr.

Whirr.

Whirr.

"Bakuzan’s fast," Thunderlash’s voice crackled through the hologram, rough and urgent.

"Faster than me. Agile, like he’s dancing through your attacks. Strong enough to crush steel with his bare hands. He could be S-Class, easy, if he wasn’t... whatever he is."

He paused, running a hand through his spiky hair. "His power? It’s cosmic. Beyond anything I’ve seen. Feels like he’s pulling energy from somewhere else. But where it comes from? No clue."

The hologram looped, Thunderlash’s words echoing in my head. I leaned forward, studying his expression. He wasn’t just reporting, he was shaken.

That wasn’t like him.

Thunderlash had faced down city-level threats like the Gravehowl incident without blinking, but Bakuzan? He’d gotten under his skin.

"Cosmic," I muttered, glancing at The Apostle. "That’s not just strength or speed. Could he be tapping into something bigger? Something tied to those creatures?"

The Apostle’s lips twitched, not quite a smile. "Could be extraterrestrial. Interdimensional. Or something older than humanity itself. We need answers, Renly. And we need them fast." He shut off the hologram, and the room dimmed, the silence heavier than before.

Mom stepped closer, drawn by the hologram’s glow, her curiosity overriding her caution.

I shot her another look, sharper this time, but she just raised an eyebrow, daring me to say something. I bit back a sigh. She was in this conversation now, whether I liked it or not.

The Apostle didn’t seem to notice, or maybe he didn’t care. He clasped his hands together, his tone hardening.

"There’s more. Heroes are scared, Renly. They’re hiding... Ironclad, B-Class, Rank 3, canceled his patrols last week."

"Silver Sentinel’s gone off-grid. No one’s taking missions unless they’re forced. Bakuzan’s got them terrified." He paused, letting the words sink in.

"Without heroes, society crumbles. No patrols, no protection. People like your mother" he glanced at her, his expression softening for a split second, "they’re the ones who suffer."

I met The Apostle’s gaze, my jaw tight. "I’m not their babysitter. I don’t run the Guardian Corps, and I don’t owe anyone a pep talk. But if Bakuzan’s tearing it all down, I’ll stop him. My way." I said.

The Apostle studied me, then nodded slowly. "I expected nothing less from you. But you need to understand the stakes. If Bakuzan can turn men into Calamity Creatures, he’s not just a hunter. He’s a force. And you’re the only one he hasn’t targeted yet, at least for now...Why is that?"

The question hit like a dart, sharp and precise. I didn’t have an answer, and that bothered me more than I wanted to admit.

Why hadn’t Bakuzan come for me? Was I too big a target, or was he saving me for something worse? I pushed the thought aside, focusing on the present.

"Let’s talk strategy," I said, steering the conversation. "My drones are still active around the train site. I can widen the search radius, cross-reference energy signatures with ISA databases. If Bakuzan’s power is cosmic, there’ll be a trace—radiation, anomalies, something."

The Apostle tilted his head inquisitively. "The ISA’s already on edge. They’re debating whether to declare Bakuzan a global threat. If you coordinate with them, share your drone data, we might narrow down his movements..."

Mom set her glass down, the clink loud in the quiet room.

"Reno, you don’t have to do this alone," she said, her voice softer now, laced with worry. "You’ve got people who care about you. Me, your friends, even this guy." She nodded at The Apostle, a small smile tugging at her lips.

I rolled my eyes. "Thanks, Ma. But I’ve got this." She knew I was lying—at least about the "alone" part. I’d always done things my way, guild or no guild, but Bakuzan was different. He wasn’t just a villain. He was a mystery, and I hated mysteries.

The Apostle glanced at his watch, then stood, smoothing his coat. "It’s late. I’ll return tomorrow to finish this." He turned to Mom, his smile warm and just a touch too charming. "Mrs. Renly, a delight as always. Until next time."

She chuckled, waving him off. "Oh, go on, you. Safe drive." Her tone was light, but her eyes followed him, sharp and curious, like she was trying to figure out what made him tick.

I cleared my throat loudly, glaring at The Apostle. "Keep it professional." My thumb brushed my neck in a subtle warning, and he caught it, his smirk faint but unmistakable.

"Goodnight, Mr. Renly," he said, stepping toward the door. "We’ll talk more about Bakuzan tomorrow. And maybe..." He paused, his voice dropping. "Maybe about why he’s avoiding you."

The door clicked shut behind him, and the room felt emptier, like he’d taken some of the air with him. Mom sighed, picking up her glass. "He’s trouble, Blondie. Be careful."

"Always am," I muttered, but my mind was elsewhere.

Thunderlash’s words echoed—cosmic, beyond anything I’ve seen. Bakuzan wasn’t just a hunter. He was a storm, brewing on the horizon, and I was standing right in its path.

I sank back into the chair, my drones’ data streaming across my vision. Still no leads, but now I had a new piece of the puzzle: men turning into monsters, Bakuzan pulling the strings.

The Apostle’s question gnawed at me—why hadn’t Bakuzan come for me? Was I a threat, or was I part of his plan?

I quickly opened the curtains of the living room to check the situation outside, sure enough the reporters were still camping there hoping for a meeting with me.

I waited and waited to see if The Apostle would walk out of the building — but no, it was as if he disappeared around the elevator with no trace.

How did he make it into the building without using the front desk. I’m very sure his presence would have triggered the crowd of reporters and camera men.

With everything I’ve gathered in The Apostle I am a hundred percent sure that he is a Meta, disguising himself as a normal ISA official.