Forsaken Hunter-Chapter 18: The Forsaken Hunters Guild Registration – A New Party Forms

Chapter 18 - The Forsaken Hunters Guild Registration – A New Party Forms

Here's the revised Chapter with your requested enhancements: Beno's reaction to the sniper shot is extended with raw, visceral emotion as he grapples with losing Renzo's final message;

a subtle hint about Violent Gates is woven into the Guild Hall scene for chilling foreshadowing; and Beno's inner conflict is deepened with a flashback that amplifies his reaction to Renzo's "too weak" taunt, cutting into old wounds with visceral intensity.

The Manhwa-novelkiss style remains gripping—vivid, emotional, and dynamic—with key words highlighted for emphasis.

The Guild Hall pulsed like a living forge, a cavernous sprawl of weathered stone thrumming with untamed chaos. Soaring ceilings swallowed sound, only to hurl it back in a wild roar—hunters bellowed triumphs, their voices clashing with the rhythmic clang of hammers on steel, a symphony of grit and glory.

The air hung dense, thick with sweat's gritty tang, metal polish's sharp bite, and the electric hum of mana-infused gear—a rugged scent that sank into skin and soul. Lanterns swayed on rusted chains, their flickering flames casting jagged shadows that danced across the stone floor, where forge sparks flared and died like stars in a storm.

Mina perched on a wobbly stool behind the desk, her tangled hair spilling like a storm cloud over her shoulders. Her fingers darted through yellowed forms—swift, sure—her gray uniform creased, badge glinting faintly.

She barely glanced up as three figures approached, her focus split between papers and the hall's restless pulse.

"Forming a new party?" Her voice cut through—dry, weary.

Beno stood tall at the forefront—arms crossed over his frayed jacket, sharp green eyes locking onto her with quiet ferocity, a storm brewing beneath calm. Charles slouched beside him—elbow propped lazily, messy hair tumbling as he stifled a yawn, boredom radiating.

Luna rounded them out—ponytail swaying, leaning in with a mischievous smirk, gloves creaking against the wood.

Beno nodded—slow, deliberate. Charles muttered, "Yeah," daring a challenge Mina ignored. Her gaze slid to Luna—recognition sparking.

"Seen you before," she said, brow arching. "Always switching crews."

Luna waved dismissively—voice light, edged with steel. "Old party whined too much—teamwork, rules. No time for that."

Mina chuckled—soft, sliding a curling form stamped with the Guild's crimson seal. "Party name?"

"Forsaken Hunters," Beno said—low, firm. The words rippled—a heavy pulse silencing the chatter for a heartbeat. Mina's eyebrow shot up—smirking faintly. Grim. Intriguing.

Charles groaned—hand dragging through his hair.

"It's cursed, man. Something less ominous?"

"It fits us," Beno snapped—unwavering. "That's enough."

Luna grinned—eyes glinting. "Love the edge."

Charles rolled his eyes—"Your trouble kink's showing"—fondness softening the jab.

Mina tapped a roster sheet. "Who's leading?"

Charles jabbed Beno—"This idiot monkey"—before Beno could speak. Beno glared—flat, unamused—but Luna nodded, trust unshaken.

Mina smirked—sliding a scratched pen with a feather tied to it. "Fill it out." As Beno reached, his phone buzzed—sharp, insistent.

He sighed—glancing at Charles. "Meeting Franky. You handle this."

Charles opened his mouth—cut off by Luna's playful,

"Left my keys outside!" She darted off—silver hair flashing. Charles slumped—groaning, "Idiots."

Mina leaned on her hand—eyes glinting. "You don't mind." Charles grumbled, "They'll drive me insane," but his voice softened—cracking. "How long can this last? Am I strong enough to hold us, or will I lose it all?"

Her smirk faded—tone firm. "Just don't lose it." Charles nodded—resolve hardening as he stared at the form.

Faintly, a hunter at a nearby table muttered, "Heard another crew vanished—some strange dungeon swallowed 'em whole. Guild's hushin' it up." Mina's pen paused—eyes flickering—before resuming, the hint sinking into the hall's din.

The café nestled between towering buildings—a warm haven glowing with hanging lanterns. Coffee's rich aroma mingled with pastry sweetness, wrapping the murmur of voices in a comforting haze. Beyond the glass, the city churned—cars honking, footsteps echoing, a gray shroud pressing down.

Beno slouched—arms crossed, foot tapping restlessly, green eyes drifting with boredom. Charles sipped from a chipped mug—shrugging. "Guild's slow with newbies."

The table jolted—Beno's phone vibrated, its shrill ring slicing the calm. He glanced—Unknown Number—suspicion creasing his brow. Fingers hovered—then answered, voice clipped.

Silence stretched—suffocating—until a low crackle broke through, words hidden. His grip tightened—knuckles white, face darkening, a storm brewing. Luna and Charles froze—the playful air shattering.

Luna leaned in—soft, concerned. "What's wrong?" Beno didn't answer—chest heaving, gaze locked on the blank screen.

"Renzo's landlord," he forced out—rough, trembling. Charles's mug clattered—urgency sharpening. "What else?!"

"Selling his apartment. We need to clear it." The news sank—cold, heavy—silence swallowing them.

Luna's eyes softened—tone firm. "We're going. Now." Charles whispered to her, "He's shaken bad." She nodded—gentle, steady. "Might be a nightmare, Beno—creepy photos, knives stabbed through."

Beno's face darkened—shadows pooling. Charles groaned—"You're making it worse." She shrugged—"Just preparing him"—eyes serious.

Beno stood—chair scraping, resolve and turmoil masking his face. "I'm going," he said—flat, final. Luna and Charles scrambled after him—footsteps echoing his determination.

The luxury complex towered—a sleek monolith, glass and steel piercing the clouded sky. Fractured lights danced like restless spirits—an eerie glow in the dusk.

Wind howled—faint, tugging at Beno's nerves, setting them ablaze. Renzo's grin... his sharp words... the day he left. How long since this was home?

A bald man in a dark suit leaned by the entrance—scrolling his phone, stern face etched with lines, aura cold. Beno stepped up—boots clicking, voice steady despite the tightness. "You the landlord?"

The man's eyes didn't lift—thumb swiping—then snapped up, cutting through Beno like a blade. "Beno Mark?"

He sighed at Beno's nod—pocketing his phone. "Waited too long. Eight hours—clear it. I'm selling." His gaze flicked to Luna and Charles—dismissing them. Beno swallowed—throat burning, bowing stiffly. The landlord tossed keys—cold, heavy—Beno caught them, fingers curling tight.

"Room 22," he nodded to the elevator—then walked off, footsteps fading.

The door clicked—releasing a stale breath of cool air. The living room unfolded—vast, pristine, windows framing a glittering cityscape.

A bookshelf sagged with dusty tomes, a glass table gleamed between leather couches, a marble counter sparkled—untouched, a life halted. Charles whistled—"Renzo lived fancy." Beno barely heard—drawn to Renzo's room, a pull he couldn't fight.

Luna caught his pause—voice cutting through. "What's wrong?" Beno's breath sharpened—shaky. "What if it's worse? Something I can't face—something that'll break me?"

Her hand gripped his shoulder—firm, anchoring. "You can't run forever. We're here." Charles nodded—"Open it."

Beno's hand trembled—key scraping. His pulse roared—frantic, matching the chaos in his chest. CLICK—a gunshot in the stillness.

The door swung wide—Renzo's presence pulsing in a clean, somber space. Midnight blue walls swallowed light, a pinboard sagging with maps and scrawl weaving secrets.

A photo—Beno and Renzo as kids, parents beaming—shattered his calm. His eyes darted—heart racing—snagging on a crisp letter in Renzo's hand.

Luna pointed—soft, urgent. Beno reached—hands shaking, tears pricking as Renzo's absence crushed him. Charles noted—"It's for you"—voice awed.

Beno's fingers brushed a memory card taped beneath—Charles grabbed it, pulling a dusty laptop from under the bed.

In the living room, Charles wiped grime—Luna's concern deepening as Beno trembled, breaths shallow. The screen flickered—password prompt halting them. Guesses failed—tension coiling.

"Beno22," Beno rasped—voice breaking. ACCESS GRANTED. Luna's eyes widened—"How'd you know?" "My birthday... this room... it's for me."

A single video loaded—family photo wallpaper stabbing his heart. Charles clicked—Renzo's face filled the screen, silence crashing.

Renzo sat on the couch—white hair tousled, blue eyes sharp, piercing the grainy video. "Beno... big bro... I know you're watching."

The words struck—a blade, deep. Beno's heart clenched—raw, knot tightening. Big bro... Memories—Renzo's laugh, their home—haunted him, breath catching, eyes locked.

Renzo's face hardened. "I know you're looking for me. Hear this first." The air thickened—a storm brewing. Luna edged closer—breath held—Charles rigid.

"You're too weak to follow me."

Beno flinched—shame burning, fists curling, blood dripping. Weak... A flashback seared—training fields, Renzo ahead, swift, strong, Beno panting, falling, dust in his lungs. "I'll catch you!" he'd sworn—small, breathless—Renzo's back always out of reach. The old wound tore open—doubt clawing, rage surging, powerlessness choking him.

"Where I'm going... it's a Violent Gate."

Charles gasped—"No freaking way..." Luna murmured—"How does he know?" Violent Gates—Guild whispers of vanished hunters—devoured legends. Beno's mind reeled—pulse hammering. Renzo... there?

"Our mother was taken—kidnapped by something unknown. I'm going after her."

The world tilted—Beno's blood froze, memories—her warm hands, her lullabies—twisting dark. Tears stung—chest heaving, pain clawing. Alone?!

"You'll want to help," Renzo softened—pleading. "But you're not ready. Get tougher. When you are..." A smirk flared—cocky, familiar. "Catch me if you can."

Beno's sob caught—fraying. Catch you... He wanted to scream—weakness pinning him.

"This world... it's a lie."

A thunderclap shook Beno's skull—panic clawing, questions spiraling. A lie?! What truth?!

BANG!

A sniper shot shattered the window—glass raining like jagged tears. The bullet struck—screen exploding in sparks and flame, Renzo's face vanishing. Beno surged—voice ripping—"RENZO!!"

He lunged—hands trembling, scrabbling at the wreckage. His fingers closed on a melted shard—plastic hot, biting his skin—breath ragged, chest tightening as horror sank in.

Gone... his last words... gone. His vision blurred—tears spilling, a choked scream strangling in his throat. He clutched the piece—helpless, knuckles white—loss hitting like a gut punch, doubling him over, gasping.

Smoke choked—Charles bolted to the window, boots crunching—"Dammit! Nothing!"—voice tight. Luna grabbed the extinguisher—foam hissing, frantic.

Beno froze—heart slamming, tears streaming, hands shaking, blood pooling from his grip. "What lie?!" he whispered—knees buckling, pain anchoring him. What truth, Renzo?!

The extinguisher clattered—Luna pale, Charles raging. Silence settled—the city's hum mocking through the hole. Beno sank—head in hands, Renzo's mission, his loss, the gunshot—a thread severed.

A dark shadow loomed—vast, unknowable. Beno wasn't ready—not for the truth taunting from the ashes.

This chapt𝓮r is updat𝒆d by ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom.

[End of Chapter]