Hero Hunter: The Glitch in the God System

Chapter 4

Freecs didn’t wait to see her reaction. He swung into the rafters of the abandoned tannery, his boots landing silently on rotted wood. He scrambled toward the skylight, heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird.

[Warning: Primary Heroine closing in. Evasion failure imminent.]

"Shut up," Freecs hissed, his fingers fumbling with a tripwire he’d rigged hours ago. "I'm busy surviving."

"You’re hiding, Freecs," a voice called out, calm and terrifyingly close.

He froze. Vivina stood in the center of the tannery, her golden armor shedding light into the grime. She hadn't even broken a sweat.

"Hiding? I’m just taking a smoke break," Freecs called down, his hand hovering over the tripwire.

"With a mana-bomb in your pocket and blood on your hands? You’re not a smoker. You’re a liability."

"And you’re a Saint. You’re supposed to be saving cats from trees, not hunting down 'glitches' in the slums."

Vivina tilted her head, her gaze locking onto the rafters. "I save the city. If that means clearing out a parasite, so be it. Come down. I’d rather not burn this entire block to ash."

"You love that threat, don't you? 'I'll burn it all.' Very heroic."

"It's effective."

Freecs pulled the wire. A rain of jagged glass and flash-powder detonated from the rafters, turning the air into a blinding strobe.

"Too slow," Vivina muttered.

A wall of pure white mana erupted around her, absorbing the blast. She didn't even flinch. Before the smoke cleared, she had ascended the support pillar, pinning Freecs against the beam with the tip of her blade pressed against his throat.

"Talking is over," she said, her eyes cold.

"Wait," Freecs wheezed, his skin prickling against the steel. "If you kill me, who tells you why the Captain was holding the orphanage’s grain shipments?"

Vivina paused. Her hand stayed steady, but her eyes narrowed. "The Captain was a thief. That’s common knowledge."

"He was a middleman, Vivina. He was sending the profits to an offshore account in the Capital. Specifically, one registered to the High Council."

"You're lying. The Council funds the wards."

"Check the ledger in his desk drawer," Freecs smirked, despite the blade. "I didn't just come to kill him. I took his inventory."

"Why would I trust a murderer?"

"Because you haven't killed me yet. You’re curious. You’re tired of the lies, aren't you?"

Vivina pulled the blade back an inch, her frustration palpable. "The Council is the backbone of this realm. If they fall, the dungeons take us all."

"The dungeons are already taking us! Look at the 'Silent Warden.' Have you ever seen a creature like that in the records before today?"

She bit her lip. "No."

"Because it’s not from the dungeon. It was sent to silence Halloway. By them."

"You have proof?"

Freecs reached into his cloak and tossed a scorched, leather-bound book onto the floorboards. She caught it with her free hand, flipping it open. Her eyes widened as she scanned the lines.

"This... this isn't possible. These are logistical logs for the High Priest's personal vault."

"Keep reading. See where the money goes."

"It... it goes to the Void Cult," she whispered, her voice trembling. "They’re funding the incursions?"

"Now you get it. I’m not the glitch, Saint. I’m the alarm clock."

Vivina lowered her sword, her posture sagging. The confidence she projected in the square was gone, replaced by a raw, biting vulnerability. "If this is true, I’ve been serving a grave."

"We’ve both been playing the fool. I was their pack mule; you were their sword. At least I realized it before I died."

"And what happens now?" she asked, looking up at him. "You’re still a wanted man."

"We call it a ceasefire. You leave me alone to hunt the actual rot, and you keep your badge. It’s a win-win."

"I can't just ignore you, Freecs. The System—"

"The System is mine," he snapped, his eyes flashing with that familiar, predatory blue light. "And right now, it’s giving me a choice."

[Mission Update: Eliminate the obstacle. Target: Vivina. Reward: Evolution.]

Freecs looked at the notification, then at the woman standing before him. She looked tired—not the tired of a soldier, but the tired of a person who had spent years fighting for a lie.

"Well?" she asked, sensing his hesitation. "What does it want?"

Freecs felt his heart tighten. His hand gripped his dagger, his knuckles white. The System buzzed, demanding blood.

"It wants you dead," Freecs said, his voice barely a whisper.

Vivina stood still, leaving her neck exposed. "Then do it. If I’m on the wrong side of history, end it."

Freecs looked at her, his pulse racing. He couldn't do it. The blade felt heavy, wrong. He slammed it back into his sheath, the metallic clack echoing through the empty tannery.

"No," Freecs growled, jumping down to the floor to stand eye-to-eye with her. "I'm not doing their dirty work for them anymore."

[Critical Warning: System override detected. Host behavior violates core protocol. Initiating 'Host Correction'.]

Freecs stumbled, his vision swimming. A searing, white-hot pain tore through his chest, and he collapsed to his knees, clutching his heart.

"Freecs?" Vivina stepped forward, her face etched with sudden alarm. "What’s happening?"

"The... system..." Freecs gasped, his breath hitching. "It’s... breaking me."

He looked up at her, his vision fading. The blue light in his veins was turning a violent, corrosive black.

"Run," he choked out, his hand grasping for her armor. "Get away... before it kills me... and takes you with me."

Vivina reached out, her hand hovering over his face, her expression caught between duty and a desperate, rising fear.

"I'm not leaving you to rot," she said, her voice hard. "If your system wants a fight, it's going to have one with me too."

Suddenly, the roof of the tannery exploded inward, showering them in splinters and shadow. A dozen figures draped in the sigil of the High Council dropped from the darkness, their blades drawn.

"Found you both," the leader hissed, his eyes glowing with the same purple light as the Warden.

Freecs tried to stand, but his legs failed him. He looked at Vivina, who now had her sword drawn and pointed toward the Council's elite.

"Looks like we're on the same team now," she muttered, not looking back.

"Worst promotion ever," Freecs whispered, pulling his dagger despite the agony in his veins.