Seducing the Guideverse With My System — Raising an Anomaly [BL]

As with every boring meeting, the twenty-seventh Grand Hunters Conclave began with a speech from Council Speaker Aileen.

She mentioned that the annual meeting was held after the two-year-long battle against the beasts that emerged from the world’s first SSS-Rank Rift, and how Guilds were created, how Federations began forming, independent of each country’s government.

Basically just spewing Hunter history like everyone in the hall wasn’t well versed in it.

Ambrose had his chin leaning against one palm, eyes half lidded with clear boredom. Gabriel cast him a side glance, after which he reached into his mind via their permanent link.

’You know you’ll have people watching you in this, right?’

’Do I look like I give a rat’s ass?’

’Fair point.’ Gabriel adjusted his sitting. ’Just... try and get into it. She’ll talk about the serious stuff eventually.’

As if on cue, Aileen cleared her throat, drawing the attention of all those who’d stopped listening like Ambrose.

"Alright. With all that said, I’d like us to give a minute of silence. In honour of every Hunter who’s lost their lives since the Emergence."

Ambrose’s eyes twitched.

Dear lord...

Everyone stayed deathly quiet, not even coughing or breathing too loudly.

Finally, after the minute had passed, Aileen’s lips curled.

"Let’s get down to the agenda for today." She adjusted her glasses, eyes roaming past every section of the hall. "As you all know—this year has been very active for Hunters and the world at large. There are a lot of issues that have sprouted over the past five months or so."

Murmurs bounced from one corner of the hall to the other.

"From the Echo Rift to the Void Entity and then the Purple Rift and every unexplainable Rift anomaly popping up worldwide." Her mouth pursed. "Just yesterday, Hunters who embarked on a dungeon raid at Malawi reported slime-like beasts clinging to those who survived—slaughtering the weaker people in their Guilds and homes until they were eventually eradicated."

Viktor whistled. "Jesus."

His mother elbowed the side of his stomach, nearly making him yelp.

Aileen didn’t notice that and went on. "Then there was the worldwide zombie apocalypse which—for lack of a better term—has practically been swept under the rug. Sure we believe the Pantheon somehow stopped it. But HOW did it happen to begin with?"

Ambrose’s fingers tightened on his lap.

It was moments like these when he sometimes missed having Aura in his head.

"The answer to that is still anyone’s guess," the council Speaker sighed, hands clasping together. "All in all, it’s clear that we’ve entered unprecedented times. Dungeon Rifts are no longer predictable. Tomorrow ten SS-Rank Rifts could open at once. We can barely keep up. So this year’s summit would be all about discussing next steps. How do we adapt to this new world?"

Heads began turning.

Some whispered amongst themselves. Others kept silent, lost in their own thoughts.

As for Ambrose... he couldn’t help but wonder when would be a good time to bring up the Archons. Does he just wait for his turn to speak? Would that turn even come? Should he allow the Pantheon to bring it up instead?

Fortunately, before he could make a decision, Magnus Ferguson was the first to rise.

The elderly Guild Master adjusted the cuffs of his tailored suit before slowly making his way toward the centre podium, every pair of eyes in the hall instinctively following him.

Even after all these years, there remained something commanding about the man. Perhaps it was his reputation. Perhaps it was simply the fact that he’d survived longer than most active Hunters ever dreamed of.

He rested one hand against the podium.

"I’ve attended twenty-five Grand Conclaves." His deep voice carried effortlessly through the massive hall. "Every year we’ve discussed improvements. Better Guild cooperation. Better Rift response. Better equipment. Better training." His gaze swept across the delegates. "This year... I don’t believe those conversations are enough anymore."

The atmosphere shifted.

"I’ve personally witnessed the aftermath of the Echo Rift. I’ve investigated the Purple Rift incident. My Guild confronted the Washington S-Rank snow dungeon and its inhabitants firsthand." He paused briefly. "None of these events followed established Rift behaviour."

Several Federation representatives exchanged uneasy glances.

"Our current classification system assumes that Dungeons evolve within predictable parameters." Magnus shook his head. "That assumption is becoming increasingly dangerous."

A holographic display lit behind him, listing the incidents one after another.

Echo Rift.

Purple Rift.

Washington S-Rank Rift.

Malawi Parasite Incident.

"They differ in location, appearance and outcome," Magnus continued, "yet every one of them demonstrates something we’ve never recorded before. Intelligence, adaptability and unpredictability."

He looked directly at Aileen.

"I believe we’re no longer fighting ordinary Dungeon phenomena."

Silence lingered after he returned to his seat.

Then the discussions exploded.

"The Russian Federation proposes expanding international military cooperation."

"The Chinese Federation recommends forming multinational S-Rank response units."

"With respect," another representative interrupted, "that’s treating the symptom rather than the disease."

"Our Guilds already struggle allocating resources."

"As President of the Australian Federation, I believe countries should temporarily abandon territorial claims over elite Hunters."

"That’ll never happen."

"The Brazilian Federation recommends prioritising Rift research."

"Research won’t stop another catastrophe tomorrow."

Arguments bounced around the chamber, dozens of voices colliding until they blurred into an overwhelming wave of disagreement.

Some delegates stood. Others gestured furiously across tables. A few simply watched with tired expressions, as though they’d expected the meeting to devolve into this from the very beginning.

Ambrose watched it all unfold in silence.

’Humanity’s greatest minds...’ he thought dryly. ’...and we’re still arguing over who gets the bigger slice of the pie while the bakery’s on fire.’

A soft chime echoed through the chamber just then.

Every conversation died instantly.

One of the elevated black booths overlooking the hall illuminated with a faint violet outline.

Nobody could see inside.

Yet every Hunter present recognised exactly whose booth it was.

Kali.

Her calm voice drifted through the speakers, carrying casual authority.

"You’re all discussing how humanity survives tomorrow." The sentence settled over the room. "I’m here because I’m worried humanity won’t survive next year."

Not a single person spoke.

Even Magnus remained perfectly still.

President Josiah lowered the iPad he’d been using to jot down notes.

Across the hall, Guild Masters who’d spent decades leading the world’s strongest Hunters unconsciously straightened in their seats.

"The incidents you’ve discussed today—the Echo Rift, the Void Entity, the Purple Rift, the Malawi parasites..." A brief pause. "They are not isolated events."

Council Speaker Aileen slowly rose from her seat, her expression unreadable as she looked toward the illuminated booth.

"Hunter Kali," she said, her voice carrying the solemn weight expected of the International Hunters Council’s highest office, "if the Pantheon possesses information capable of changing humanity’s understanding of these anomalies... then, on behalf of every Federation represented within this chamber..."

She inclined her head.

"...the floor is yours."

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