Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest

Chapter 624 137.2 - The Kid

When they arrived at their destination, the air buzzed with anticipation. Eryon, along with the other children, could hardly contain the mix of awe and excitement as they gazed out of the windows of the carriage. The city was unlike anything they had ever imagined. Towering buildings scraped the sky, their glass surfaces shimmering under the sunlight, reflecting a world of prosperity and grandeur that seemed foreign to the orphans. The streets were wide, clean, and filled with people dressed in elegant clothes, moving with purpose and confidence.

Eryon's heart pounded in his chest as they continued deeper into the city. The buildings seemed to grow even taller, even more impressive, and the world they had left behind—the crumbling orphanage with its cold walls and empty promises—felt like a distant memory. For the first time, he saw what life could be like beyond the broken walls of the orphanage. n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

Finally, they arrived at their destination—a massive building in one of the most luxurious parts of the city. It was grand, with towering pillars and intricately designed windows that gleamed in the light. The building stood proud, surrounded by lush gardens, fountains that trickled with clear water, and paths made of smooth stone that led to the enormous entrance.

The children were led through the gates, their eyes wide with wonder. They had never seen anything like it before. The air here was different—cleaner, lighter, and filled with a sense of possibility. Eryon couldn't help but stare at the beautiful surroundings, his mind struggling to comprehend the wealth and elegance before him.

"This… this is where we're going to live?" a boy whispered beside Eryon, his voice filled with disbelief.

Eryon didn't respond. He couldn't find the words. He was still trying to take it all in, his heart racing with both excitement and an underlying sense of uncertainty.

The adults who had brought them here led the way, their footsteps echoing against the stone as they walked toward the grand entrance. The group of children followed in silence, too stunned by their surroundings to speak. Inside, the building was just as impressive. High ceilings adorned with ornate chandeliers, polished floors that reflected the light, and large windows that let in streams of golden sunlight—it was a world of wealth and beauty that none of them had ever known.

The caretakers of the building, who greeted them with polite smiles and kind words, only added to the sense of wonder. They spoke softly, their voices calm and reassuring, as they led the children deeper into the vast halls. The children, who had been used to cold stares and harsh words, were overwhelmed by the warmth and kindness that seemed to radiate from these new caretakers.

Eryon glanced around, trying to catch every detail. His mind raced with questions, but the excitement of the moment drowned them out. It was hard to focus on anything other than the sheer magnificence of the place. He could see it in the faces of the other children too—this was the start of something new, something better.

For the first time in his life, Eryon felt a spark of hope that maybe, just maybe, their lives were about to change for the better.

But what none of them knew was that behind the smiles and the grandeur, something far darker was waiting. This was the beginning of a new chapter, but not the one they had hoped for. The beautiful walls and elegant surroundings would soon reveal their true nature, and the price for this new life would be far greater than any of them could have imagined.

As time passed, Eryon began to notice something strange. The children who had arrived with him, one by one, started to disappear. At first, it was subtle—a few names here, a few empty beds there. The adults would tell the remaining children that their friends had found families, that they had been adopted and were now living happy lives in beautiful homes, with parents who loved them.

The idea seemed plausible, even comforting. After all, wasn't that the dream for every orphan? To finally be chosen, to be part of a family? The children accepted the explanations without question, their innocent minds clinging to the hope that maybe their turn would come next. Maybe they too would be taken to a new home, filled with love and warmth, far away from the life they had known.

But for Eryon, something felt off. The excitement he had first felt upon arriving in this grand new place had slowly given way to unease. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. He noticed how the adults' smiles didn't quite reach their eyes, how they dodged questions about the other children's whereabouts with practiced ease. The disappearances became more frequent, and yet the rooms never stayed empty for long. New children arrived, from different orphanages, each with the same wide-eyed wonder that Eryon had once felt.

As more children disappeared, Eryon grew quieter, more observant. He watched as his friends left, always with promises of a better life, but they never returned, never sent letters or any signs that they were truly happy. Eryon wanted to believe the adults, but doubt began to take root in his heart.

It was during this time of growing uncertainty that Eryon met her.

She was a shy girl, quiet and unassuming, but always with a soft, innocent smile on her face. Her name was Emily. She had arrived not long after Eryon noticed the first wave of disappearances, and unlike the other children, there was something different about her. She wasn't as excited or overwhelmed by the grandeur of their new home. Instead, she seemed content, quietly observing the world around her with wide, innocent eyes.

Eryon found himself drawn to her. She was kind in a way that was different from the other children. She didn't speak much, but when she did, her words were gentle, filled with a strange sort of calm. Despite her shy nature, there was a warmth about her, a quiet resilience that made Eryon feel a little less alone in this strange new world.

They spent time together, mostly in silence, but it was a comfortable silence. They didn't need to say much to understand each other. Emily, with her innocent smile, became a small beacon of light in Eryon's increasingly uncertain life. But even as they grew closer, Eryon couldn't ignore the growing sense of dread that hung over the place.

Children continued to disappear. And with each passing day, Eryon's unease deepened. He began to wonder how long it would be before it was Emily's turn—or his.

The day came sooner than Eryon had hoped. Emily, with her soft smiles and gentle presence, was called. It had been happening for weeks now—children disappearing one after another, each time with the same story of being adopted into a loving family, never to return. Eryon had dreaded this moment, but there was no stopping it.

Emily had been reading quietly, as she always did in her free time, sitting by the large window that overlooked the manicured gardens. She had a certain stillness about her, as if nothing in the world could disturb her peace, not even the dark shadows that lingered around them.

When the adults called her name, she closed her book and looked up, her innocent smile still in place. There was no fear in her eyes, only a calm acceptance that tugged at Eryon's heart. It was as if she had always known this day would come and was ready for it, in the way only Emily could be.

Before she left, she found Eryon standing by the door, watching her with an intensity he couldn't hide. She gave him a soft look, her innocent eyes full of warmth and understanding.

"I'll remember you, Eryon," she said, her voice steady but quiet, as though they were sharing a secret. "No matter where I go, even in my new family, I'll never forget you. Maybe, if the world allows, we can meet again someday."

Her words were so hopeful, so full of light that for a moment, Eryon wanted to believe her. He wanted to believe that this wasn't the last time they would see each other, that somewhere, somehow, they would cross paths again in a world where everything made sense.

But deep down, he knew. He knew something was wrong with all of this. He knew that the children who left this place were not going to loving families, and the chances of seeing Emily again were slim—if not impossible.

Emily, always the optimist, smiled at him once more before walking away. She didn't look back, but Eryon stood there, his heart heavy with a weight he didn't fully understand. He wanted to stop her, to say something, but the words wouldn't come. All he could do was watch as she walked through the grand hall, disappearing from sight just like the others.

Days passed after Emily was taken, but she never returned. Just as the adults had promised, they said she was living happily with her new family, and that she was finally free of the orphanage's walls. But Eryon didn't believe it. The empty space she left behind felt too final, too permanent.

He found himself spending more time in the spots where they used to sit together, the silence now oppressive in a way it hadn't been before. The place that had once seemed full of possibility now felt like a prison, and Eryon couldn't help but feel that something terrible was hiding just beneath the surface.

Emily had always been hopeful, always reading when she was free, always believing that the world had something good in store for her. Eryon remembered her last words to him, the way she had promised never to forget, and he clung to that memory

But it all changed when he discovered the secret hidden behind the doors.

That smell of iron that he would never forget in his life.

It was that time when his entire life was changed.