The Damned Demon

Chapter 678  Trust Your Instincts

In the bustling atrium of the WHA Academy's main branch, the air was charged with excitement. Groups of students clustered together, their eyes glued to a massive holographic projection that displayed the list of those chosen for the Mars Vanguard Initiative's priority slots. It was a coveted honor, and for the young and ambitious, it was the ultimate opportunity to prove their worth and feel that their actions could impact the future of humanity.

Among the crowd, a particular group had formed around a young man with delicate yet defined features, his sharp brown eyes betraying a depth of experience beyond his years. Remy stood still, his gaze fixed on the list of names projected high above. The faint hum of conversations swirled around him.

"Wow, congrats, Remy! You made it to the priority list along with the S Rankers!" a girl exclaimed, her voice bubbling with excitement as she looked up at him with admiration.

"I knew it," another student chimed in, his grin wide. "There were only ten slots allotted for students, and our Remy was an obvious choice."

A few others joined in, patting Remy on the back and congratulating him. Yet, amidst the congratulatory gestures and words, Remy's expression remained distant, his eyes shadowed by a cloud of contemplation.

"Hey, where you going? We should celebrate this!" one of his friends called out as Remy began to step away from the crowd.

Remy forced a quick, brief smile and replied, "Sorry, guys. I just have to talk to my professor real quick."

Without waiting for a response, he weaved his way through the throng of students, his steps purposeful but his mind in turmoil. Moments later, he found himself standing outside a spacious office. He took a deep breath and knocked softly before pushing the door open.

Professor Jim, an elderly man with a dignified aura, sat behind a large oak desk, his round spectacles perched precariously on his nose. He glanced up, his eyes lighting up as he saw Remy enter.

"Ah, Remy! What brings you here? I suppose you're still soaking in the glory of being selected," Jim said with a chuckle.

Remy managed a strained smile and approached, "Professor Jim, can someone else take my spot on the list? Someone who really wants it?"

Jim's brows furrowed in confusion as he adjusted his glasses, "Remy, what is this? All the students here are dying to get a chance like this, and you want to give it up? Why?"

Remy sighed, his gaze dropping to the floor, "It's nothing, really. I just... I don't think I need it. I don't want to rely on something external to fight demons. I want to rely on my own strength if that makes sense."

Jim threw his head back and laughed, the sound filling the room. He leaned forward and patted Remy's shoulder, "Haha, you are one of a kind, indeed. But who said it's external? Once you get that tech installed, it becomes a part of you. Besides, without it, how are you going to fight demons on Mars? That's where your fight is going to be in the future. Don't you want to fulfill your duty as a Hunter?"

Remy nodded slowly, a faint, resigned smile tugging at his lips, "Maybe you're right. But..." He hesitated, his eyes flickering with a hint of longing. "Can I go visit my family's grave before I leave for Mars? I just want to ask for their blessings."

Jim's face turned awkward for a moment, but he shook his head with a sigh, "I'm sorry, kid. But those selected aren't allowed to leave for safety purposes. We have too many enemies who'd love to sabotage this initiative by targeting geniuses like you. They'll do anything to make sure you don't get to Mars. We can't risk losing you. And I personally wouldn't want anything to happen to my favorite student. You understand, right?"

The words were delivered kindly, but their weight pressed down on Remy's shoulders like a heavy mantle. He nodded stiffly, the smile on his face forced, "I understand, professor. Thanks for looking out for me."

"No worries. Once it's done, I will take you myself," Jim said with a reassuring smile.

As he exited the office, the world outside seemed suddenly louder, more chaotic. The chatter of students, the hum of excitement—it all felt distant, like he was watching from behind a thick glass.

Back in his room, Remy sat on the edge of his bed, the weight of the day pressing down on him. With a sigh, he reached under his mattress and pulled out a folded piece of paper, its edges worn from being handled too many times. His fingers trembled slightly as he unfolded it yet again, revealing the neat, cursive writing that he'd read over and over again.

The letter was brief, but every word was etched into his memory. n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

[ Remy...You are not safe there. You have to leave before they install that device in your body. Trust your instincts. ]

His brow furrowed as he read the words again, his heart pounding in his chest. He could almost hear his grandmother's voice in his head, the gentle yet firm tone she'd always used when warning him about something.

"Trust your instincts... Grandma, it can't be..." he whispered, his gaze unfocused as he stared at the letter. Doubt and fear coiled tightly in his chest, the weight of the decision he had to make pressing down on him.

There wasn't much time before he had to go to Mars. He had to decide.

His hand clenched around the letter, crumpling it slightly. Was he really going to throw away everything he'd worked for and risk everything because of a cryptic message? Or was there something deeper, something that made him want to run?

Taking a deep breath, he shoved the letter back under his mattress. Whatever he decided, he knew one thing: this was no longer just about following orders or fulfilling expectations. It was about survival. And the instincts his grandmother had drilled into him screamed that something was very, very wrong.

But…how was he supposed to investigate or seek answers when he wasn't allowed to leave? Remy didn't know what to do, but he was determined not to give up.

-

Derek sat at his desk, the sleek surface reflecting the cold light of his office. Sitting before him was Gregory Hart, his blonde hair neatly combed to the side and complementing his trimmed blonde beard.

Suddenly, the faint vibration of Derek's wrist device broke the silence. He placed the earpiece in his ear, his expression unreadable.

"Yes, Jim?" Derek's voice was measured, a thin layer of tension underlying his calm tone.

From the other end, the muffled voice of Professor Jim spoke urgently, the words making Derek's eyes narrow dangerously.

"Oh? He wanted to leave?" Derek leaned forward slightly, his fingers stopping their rhythmic tapping, "You took care of it well, Jim. Keep an eye on him and update me if he shows any more odd signs."

Gregory leaned back in his chair, one hand thoughtfully caressing his blonde beard, a skeptical smile playing on his lips, "Are you sure about this, Derek? Aren't we wasting time and resources holding that kid hostage? His grandmother can't be alive."

Derek's gaze flickered over to Gregory, his eyes darkening, "That's what I want to believe," he said slowly, his voice carrying a weight of unspoken frustration, "But we know how Gary died. She is still out there, corrupted by Hellbringer, who's keeping her alive for some reason."

Gregory rolled his eyes, his skepticism deepening, "I know, but there are thousands of Hunters who use the word 'Huntress' for their title and even more with similar powers. Are you sure you aren't shooting in the dark?"

Derek's jaw tightened, the muscles in his neck flexing, "I know the first-hand experience of our asset who actually fought the Huntress. From what she described, it has to be the Firestorm Huntress. Only she can exhibit such prowess with those powers, even in a corrupted body. I just never expected she would be so desperate for revenge that she'd give in to a demon...on purpose."

Gregory scoffed, leaning forward with a dismissive wave of his hand, "Even if she is really still alive, she doesn't have long. I think you're worrying about this a bit too much, my friend. We have bigger fish to fry."

Derek's eyes sharpened, and he shot Gregory a look that was both dangerous and calculated, "You very well know that the next thirty days are crucial. I can't risk any unpredictable variables coming into play. But if I'm right, we can trap her if she comes for her grandson. Or maybe even trap the bigger fish…like Hellbringer or his entire cult if we are lucky."

Gregory's skepticism shifted into a cold, calculating smile as he leaned back, his eyes gleaming with anticipation, "Of course. That's one thing I'm looking forward to."

Derek nodded, his mind already shifting gears, "You take care of this," he ordered, his tone brooking no argument. "I have other things to worry about."

Gregory gave a subtle nod, the corners of his lips twitching, "Leave it to me. Oh, and…did your wife come around?"

Derek looked up but didn't bother to respond, making Gregory get the hint as he cleared his throat awkwardly and left.

The moment he left, Derek picked up his tablet and, with a swipe of his finger, pulled up a series of images. The first one showed a familiar figure—Cecilia—walking into a luxurious hotel. The time-stamp indicated it was the previous night.

His fingers hovered over the screen, tension radiating from every line of his body. He swiped to the next image. A few minutes after Cecilia's entrance, a young man followed her into the same hotel. Derek's eyes darkened as he recognized the figure. His resemblance to the man known as Advisor Ash by some was unmistakable.

However, the next series of images showed them not exiting the hotel until it was the next morning.

For a long moment, Derek just stared at the images, his expression slowly darkening.

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