System Mission: Seduce the Strongest S-Class Hunters or Die Trying!-Chapter 193: [JUST FOR NOW]

"I don’t know."

Kairo’s voice cracked.

Not with weakness—but with something far worse.

Shock.

His own words rattled in his head like they didn’t belong to him.

"I don’t know."

He had never said those words in his entire life.

Not on a raid.

Not in training.

Not in any life-or-death scenario.

But now—

He didn’t know anything.

Eli.

The serpent.

Getting torn out of its mouth.

Getting thrown out like he was trash.

Getting his ass beat by Caelen.

His pride wasn’t bruised—it was shattered.

Everything inside him felt like it was caving in.

Kairo suddenly felt... weak.

The weakest he’d ever felt inside a dungeon.

The weakest he’d felt in years.

And he just... didn’t want to move.

Didn’t want to fight.

Didn’t want to pretend he had control.

He let himself stay pinned under Caelen’s boot—the one person he’d rather die than lose to—and for the first time, Kairo didn’t throw it off.

He didn’t snap.

Didn’t snarl.

Didn’t fight back.

He just... gave up.

This fucking dungeon had drained him dry. Every argument, every failure, every second Eli was in danger—it all chewed through him like something gnawing at his ribs.

Caelen’s shadow loomed overhead.

"Hah?" Caelen tilted his head slowly, disbelief sharp in his gaze. "What do you mean you don’t know?"

Kairo squeezed his eyes shut.

"I SAID I DON’T FUCKING KNOW!" he snapped, his voice breaking into something raw and messy. He turned his head sharply to the side, refusing to look at Caelen any longer. It wasn’t pride—it was shame.

"We were... arguing. That thing—" His throat tightened. "—it grabbed his leg with its tongue. Pulled him in and—and it spit me out."

Silence.

For the first time since the fight started, Caelen didn’t immediately insult him.

Didn’t laugh.

Didn’t gloat.

Kairo could feel Caelen’s foot lift from his chest. The sudden absence of pressure made him inhale shakily.

"You were arguing?" Caelen said, voice flat, unreadable. "You had time to argue in that situation? Even for you, that’s..." He stepped back once. Twice. His jaw clenched. "...absolutely idiotic."

Kairo felt something twist painfully in his chest.

He hated that Caelen was right.

He hated that the truth stung worse than the beating.

"I wanted to attack the damn thing," Kairo muttered through gritted teeth, pushing himself up on trembling elbows. "He wanted us to wait—to wait until it spit us out." His voice cracked again, this time with frustration and something dangerously close to regret. "He was being unreasonable."

But even he winced at his own words.

Even for him... they sounded wrong.

Excuses.

Cowardly excuses.

But his pride—

His pride wouldn’t let him swallow all the blame.

Not yet.

Not when everything in his chest felt like it was collapsing. Not when admitting the truth—that he panicked, that he made things worse, that he failed Eli—felt like admitting he didn’t deserve the rank he held.

Kairo dug his fingers into the dirt, breath trembling.

’I’m not wrong,’ he tried to tell himself.

’I’m not wrong.’

But the thought didn’t hold.

Not this time.

Kairo stayed on his knees, fingers digging so hard into the dirt that soil packed beneath his nails. His arms trembled.

His breath hitched in uneven bursts. Shame, anger, and something dangerously close to fear tangled inside him until his stomach twisted painfully.

He felt pathetic.

He looked pathetic.

And Caelen—towering over him—did nothing to soften it.

Arms crossed. Shoulders squared. Expression carved sharp with judgment.

"In case you’re thinking inside that tiny mind of yours that you aren’t wrong," Caelen said, voice crisp with disdain. "You are wrong."

Kairo’s jaw snapped tight. "Shut up—"

"No." Caelen’s voice cracked through him like a whip. "Listen for once, you spoiled brat."

Kairo flinched.

Not because Caelen scared him—Kairo never admitted fear.

But because Caelen used that tone.

The one he saved for battlefields where people died if they didn’t listen. The one Kairo had only heard twice in his entire life—and both times, it meant someone wasn’t coming back.

Caelen exhaled sharply, muttering under his breath, "God. You act more spoiled than Eli ever had."

Kairo felt heat crawl up his neck, humiliation cutting deeper than any punch Caelen had thrown.

Caelen didn’t stop.

"If you two were still alive inside that thing," Caelen said, each word deliberate, merciless, "and it didn’t crush or digest you immediately, it means it wasn’t planning to kill either of you."

Kairo’s breath lodged in his throat.

Caelen kept going.

"And if Eli suggested you wait..." His eyes narrowed. "He did it because he realized that."

Kairo’s heartbeat faltered.

His mind replayed the moment—Eli grabbing his arm, voice shaking but steady:

"It’s not going to eat us. I don’t... feel any danger."

Kairo swallowed, throat tight.

His pride howled to reject it.

But his instincts—his huntsman instincts—knew Caelen was right.

Caelen crouched, bringing his face level with Kairo’s—close enough that Kairo could feel his breath.

"If that serpent wanted you dead," Caelen said quietly, "you’d be dead. Both of you."

Kairo’s fingers curled harder into fists.

"We weren’t even sure where it was taking us!" he shot back, voice hoarse and cracking. "What if that place was worse? What if—"

Caelen’s laughter barked out sharp, humorless.

"Oh, please." He stood, straightening with a scoff that felt like a slap. "Anywhere is safer than inside a fucking serpent’s mouth, genius."

Kairo’s cheeks burned—rage, humiliation, and something uglier mixing until he couldn’t tell one from the other.

He hated that Caelen was right.

He hated it more because Eli had said the exact same thing.

And he hated it the most because—now that the panic had faded and clarity was crawling back in—Kairo saw all of it.

How reckless he’d been.

How blinded he was.

How he made everything worse.

And the one person in the world he didn’t want seeing him like that... the one person whose judgment he couldn’t stand—

Was here.

Watching.

Laughing inside.

Caelen saw the realization settle into Kairo’s expression, and his smirk sharpened like a blade.

"There it is," Caelen said, amused. "That look."

Kairo snapped his head up. "What look?" His voice was tight, cracked around the edges.

"The ’I just realized I’m an idiot but I’m pretending I’m not’ look."

Kairo’s fist twitched.

"Caelen—"

"You can wallow in self-pity all you want," Caelen cut him off, voice flattening into ice. "Because as usual, you think being strong makes you absolute."

Kairo flinched.

A tiny movement. Barely there.

But Caelen saw it.

He always saw it.

"You think strength makes you right," Caelen said, stepping a little closer. "You think that ability of yours makes every choice you make correct."

Kairo’s breath hitched. His nails dug half-moons into his palms.

Shut up. Just shut up.

"But you fucked up," Caelen said plainly, throat steady, eyes sharp. "Your pride fucked up. And now Eli’s gone because you couldn’t listen."

Something inside Kairo cracked like thin glass.

He shot to his feet so fast the ground beneath him vibrated.

Caelen didn’t turn away. Didn’t step back. He lifted his chin slightly, smirking like he was inviting violence.

"What?" Caelen asked. "You gonna punch me again?"

But that wasn’t what Kairo wanted.

Not right now.

Not with the taste of guilt still sour on his tongue.

Not with the image of Eli being pulled away replaying like a knife behind his ribs.

He stood there, fists trembling, lungs burning, vision shaking—not out of anger alone.

He still hated Caelen’s guts.

He hated this lying, arrogant, manipulative bastard who had never once stopped making his life hell.

No amount of love for their parents could ever make Kairo see Caelen as someone he respected.

But right then—

Eli’s words echoed in his head.

Not just once.

But repeatedly.

Every warning. Every frustrated comment. Every moment Eli tried to make him see reason from the moment Caelen’s team arrived.

And Kairo hadn’t listened.

Not because Eli was wrong.

But because Caelen was there.

And Kairo would rather break every rib in his body than admit Caelen was ever right about anything.

Kairo dug his nails deeper into his palms, hard enough that pain shot up his arms. He couldn’t look at Caelen.

Not after everything they shouted. Not after realizing Eli had been smarter than both of them combined.

He stared at the ruined forest instead.

"We should..." His throat closed. Shame clawed up his chest. "...work together."

Silence.

A brief, fragile, humiliating silence.

Then—

"...Excuse me?"

Kairo’s jaw flexed so sharply he thought something might crack.

"I said," he repeated, forcing the words out between clenched teeth, "we should work together."

Caelen blinked.

Then he laughed.

Not loudly. Not hysterically.

But with that smug, infuriating, grating disbelief that made Kairo want to punch something.

"Hoho. Hohoho," Caelen mocked lightly, crossing his arms. "So suddenly? You’re suddenly asking me to work together with you? You, Kairo, who I’ve known since the day our mother birthed you—you want to ask me for help?"

"I’m not asking you for help!" Kairo snapped, heat flooding his face. He could barely keep his voice steady. "I’m saying we team up. Not because I don’t think I can do it—"

He stopped.

His breath trembled.

"But you know," he forced out, "that if we want to save Eli, we can’t keep—"

He swallowed hard.

...We can’t keep fighting.

Caelen raised a brow. "You say that after you tried to beat me up—"

"WHY must EVERYTHING be so complicated with you?" Kairo finally exploded, spinning toward him. "Do you NOT care for Eli at all?!"

Caelen tilted his head, unimpressed. "Care? That’s a strong word." He tapped his fingers against his bicep. "Since when did you care for anyone?"

Kairo stiffened.

Caelen wouldn’t let up.

"But," Caelen continued, a small smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth, "it would be a shame for someone as smart as him to die."

Kairo glared.

Caelen laughed—low, sharp, insufferable.

"And God," he added, "am I going to use this against you."

Kairo’s eye twitched so hard it hurt.

’Why is everything with him such a nightmare?’

But Kairo didn’t have a choice.

If he wanted any chance of saving Eli, then the two strongest hunters in the dungeon had to work together—whether he liked it or not.

He refused to repeat his mistakes.

Not again.

Not when Eli was still out there.

So even if it meant enduring Caelen—his arrogance, his smugness, his impossible personality—Kairo would swallow it.

Just for now.