SSS Awakening : I can Adapt to Everything

Chapter 180: Interception

The final buzzer of First round of the solo phase echoed hollowly through the sprawling, silent stadium. The medical teams had long since evacuated the unconscious, half-frozen form of Claire down into the emergency tunnels. The massive digital screens wrapping the arena cycled through a final, comprehensive update before shutting down.

[Round one - SOLO BRACKET CONCLUDED]

Up in the Varisus spectating suite, the room was entirely empty, save for a single figure. Gideon, Evelyn and Rol, had all bolted toward the medical wing the exact second Claire collapsed. Hide remained behind, standing perfectly still near the panoramic window, his glowing blue eyes fixed on the final ranking ledger scrolling across the main monitor.

He didn’t care about the bottom half of the list. His eyes scanned the upper echelons, analyzing the point distributions.

A total of exactly twenty combatants had managed to secure the elusive 500-point speed bonus across the matches. Hide found his own name resting comfortably at the 13th position. He had 500 points. He was safe, comfortably situated within the upper bracket. But his eyes drifted to the very top of the ledger.

[RANK 1: Howard Lupe (Central Continent) - 500 Points]

Hide saw it, his eyes narrowing slightly. To achieve that score, the participant had to secure the flag within sixty seconds, and to get in upper rankings they had to do it in less then 10 or 15 seconds.

Hide closed the ledger. The rankings didn’t matter right now.

He stepped back from the window into the shadows of the empty room. "Doomy," Hide called out softly.

A thick, swirling cloud of pitch-black mana instantly expelled from his chest. The smoke condensed on the leather chair beside him, taking the shrunken, localized form of the Doom Overseer. Its ethereal feline body sat perfectly still, its deep blue ribbon-antlers glowing faintly in the dim light, carefully positioned so none of the suite’s internal cameras could catch its reflection.

"I am here, My Liege," the phantom vibrated in his mind.

"Find Julian," Hide commanded, his voice devoid of all warmth. "The man who just fought in the arena. Locate him."

The Doom Overseer didn’t ask questions. It closed its deep blue, slitted eyes. Its Overseer’s Vision activated, tapping into the residual essence left behind by the mana in the arena, tracing the biological frequency outward. The phantom remained silent for a mere three seconds before opening its eyes.

"I have him," the beast reported smoothly. "He is currently located on the exterior roof of the stadium, in the western part. He is standing at the very edge of the architecture, concealed behind a large water reservoir tank. The angle renders him completely invisible to the stadium’s external surveillance feeds."

Hide’s eyes narrowed into sharp, lethal slits. "Is he alone?"

"No, My Liege. There are two other human entities present with him. They are conversing... and he is laughing."

Hide’s jaw locked so tightly his teeth ground together. he was laughing. After nearly freezing Claire’s core and getting disqualified on the world stage, that psychotic bastard was laughing.

"Good work," Hide told the phantom.

The miniature beast dissolved into dark mist, sinking seamlessly back into his chest. Hide didn’t walk toward the door. He simply engaged his Phantom Step. His physical body dissolved entirely into a wisp of shadowy, corrupted mana, slipping effortlessly through the microscopic gaps in the ventilation grate and disappearing from the room.

High above the roaring chaos of the stadium, on the absolute highest point of the stadium’s colossal exterior roof, the desert wind howled relentlessly.

Hidden behind the massive curvature of a steel water reservoir tank, Julian winced slightly, rolling his shoulder as he slipped into a fresh, pristine black trench coat. The two men standing in front of him had just brought it.

The two strangers were dressed in immaculate, lightweight white tactical gear. Stitched neatly onto the left breast of their uniforms was a distinct, circular insignia depicting a howling wolf. They were professional, completely silent, and radiated the suffocating, cold aura of high-tier veteran killers. They belonged to an elite, underground organization—an assassin clan, much like the Sihue family, operating strictly in the shadows of the Exterminator world.

Julian smoothed out his lapels, his breath pluming into a faint white mist despite the sweltering desert heat. He casually summoned a sleek, reinforced silver suitcase from his spatial inventory and held it out.

One of the white-clad men stepped forward and took it securely.

"Give my thanks to your Head," Julian said smoothly, a dark, manic smile returning to his handsome face. "And also tell him... he is getting greedy now. He is asking for far too much."

The two men didn’t speak. They offered a synchronized, respectful bow. A second later, their bodies shimmered, warping the light around them, and they completely disappeared into the desert wind, utilizing a high-tier active camouflage talent.

Julian let out a slow, satisfied breath, entirely alone on the roof. His psychotic little show in the arena had gone perfectly.

"And what might that suitcase have?"

Julian violently stiffened.

His bottomless, manic eyes snapped to the right. Stepping casually out from the deep shadows behind the adjacent water tank was a teenager. He wore a cheap blue jacket, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his silver hair whipping wildly in the wind.

Julian was genuinely taken aback. For a fraction of a second, absolute shock broke his cultured facade. The S-Rank veteran quickly recovered, his face contorting into an ugly, hateful scowl.

"You..." Julian hissed, his eyes darting to the only access stairwell leading to this section of the roof. "How did you get up here?"

It was impossible. No one could have tracked him here without setting off his passive mana perimeter. This specific quadrant of the roof only had one point of entry, and Julian had specifically stationed his most trusted, A-Rank personal guard at the bottom of those stairs to execute anyone who tried to follow him.

Hide tilted his head, his glowing blue eyes completely hollow. "Why?" Hide asked, his voice a deadpan, chilling whisper. "If you can be up here, why not me? Am I not qualified enough to enjoy the view?"

"You little rat," Julian sneered, the air around him instantly plummeting in temperature. Frost began to rapidly crystallize on the steel water tank beside him. "You think because you scored a few points, you can speak to me like an equal? You are standing in front of a god."

"A god?" Hide let out a dry, humorless chuckle. "You threw a temper tantrum because a girl rejected your pathetic marriage proposal, and then you got disqualified by the referees like a rabid dog. You’re not a god, Julian. You’re just a massive disappointment."

Julian’s eyes widened, a vein violently bulging against his temple. The mockery was absolute, striking directly at his fragile, narcissistic ego.

"I will freeze the blood in your veins and shatter your core into a million pieces!" Julian roared, completely losing his composure. The mana violently erupted from his body, intending to completely encase Hide in an inescapable glacier.

But Hide was already moving.

Hide didn’t just understand Julian’s abilities; he had spent the last twenty minutes watching them from the VIP box. He knew exactly how Julian fought. He knew about his abilities. And he knew he could beat him.

But not here. Not on top of the stadium where the resulting shockwaves would bring the tournament officials crashing down on them in seconds.

Julian raised his hand, the blue light blinding.

Hide’s Abyssal Scale Carapace violently erupted. The pitch-black, indestructible scales locked over his skin, forming the jagged, eight-pointed crown on his forehead. Instantly, Hide channeled a massive surge of dark mana to the anchor spinning deep within his core.

Sonic Flight.

Hide intercepted Julian at a speed that utterly broke the sound barrier. The sonic boom physically shattered the steel water tank behind them, sending thousands of gallons of water raining down onto the roof. Julian’s eyes widened in terror as his S-Rank perception barely registered the blur of dark metal.

Before Julian could even cast a single spell, Hide’s scaled, talon-tipped hand violently clamped shut around the bastards face, entirely engulfing his jaw and eyes.

"Guh—!" Julian choked.

Using the catastrophic, supersonic momentum of Petra’s skill, Hide didn’t strike him. He simply launched off the roof, taking the S-Rank veteran with him.

The two figures became a singular, terrifying streak of dark light tearing across the evening sky, moving so fast they were entirely invisible to the naked eye. They blew past the stadium and away from the city, in a fraction of a second, the G-force threatening to rip Julian’s consciousness apart.

Fifty kilometers away from the stadium, deep within the desolate, endless expanse of the Ufrifan desert basin, Hide abruptly canceled the flight skill.

He violently threw his arm downward, hurling Julian toward the earth like a discarded ragdoll.

CRASH!

Julian slammed into the dunes with the force of a meteorite, kicking up a colossal crater of dark, displaced sand. He groaned, his expensive suit shredded, coughing violently as he desperately tried to gather his mana.

Hide landed softly on the rim of the massive crater, his dark, scaled armor smoking slightly in the cold desert air. His blue eyes, ringed with glowing violet, stared down at the broken S-Rank.

"Now," Hide said, his voice as cold and absolute as the grave. "No one is coming to save you here."