Chapter 127: Deadlight District (18) Black Tower

As the runes of the hall lit up, they revealed its interior, which was now nothing more than a broken shadow of its former self.Deep cracks stretched across the walls, spreading like scars left behind by a violent storm. Several doorways had been completely blocked by large chunks of debris that had collapsed from above. The ground was no better. Massive dents, some plunging more than a dozen feet deep, were scattered across the floor, painting a clear picture of how intense the battle had been.

Clarissa and the others stared at the scene with dumbfounded expressions, slowly taking in the devastation around them.

Their shock deepened when their gazes shifted to Marlon, who stood there looking completely unscathed. If not for his rapid, uneven breathing, no one would have suspected that he was the main cause of all the destruction surrounding them.

Meanwhile, Marlon’s attention was fixed on the ground.

A purple crystal orb lay there, resembling the one that had dropped from the mini-boss, only a few centimeters larger.

It was a true core.

Recalling what had happened the last time, Marlon didn’t pick it up immediately.

He stared at it for several seconds, hesitation flashing through his eyes as he wondered whether he would experience the same unbearable pain he had endured before. The memory alone was enough to make his fingers twitch slightly.

After a brief pause, he shook his head.

"As long as it doesn’t kill me, there’s no need to worry."

With that thought, he bent down and picked it up.

He inhaled deeply, his muscles tensing as he braced himself, fully prepared for the familiar surge of agony to crash into him at any moment.

But strangely enough, nothing happened—aside from a warm sensation that slowly spread throughout his body. It felt soothing and energizing, the complete polar opposite of what he had expected.

Marlon frowned slightly and shifted his gaze to the palm holding the treasure, only to realize that the crystal had already dispersed, dissolving and seeping directly into his skin.

Before he could even begin to question where it had gone, a notification flashed before his eyes.

[ You’ve consumed an Index-2 True Core. ]

[ You’ve obtained the following:

1,000,000 EXP

1 Skill Upgrade Core (has been transferred to inventory)

300 Strength Points

30 Free Stat Points ]

Marlon felt an ethereal feeling stronger than any he had ever felt before — It was as though every fibre of his body from his skin to his veins were toughened in an instant.

"This.." he was elated.

He had gained three hundred strength stats in one go, something that would take others years.

"The truth core.. if this were what is found in every danger-zones, there would be no weak hunters." He thought.

Starting from the experience points to the stats points and even the new item that has appeared, every hunter would grow stronger at an alarming rate.

Speaking of the new item, Marlon was curious about it.

Unfortunately, before he could check it out, a loud robotic voice reverberated across the hall.

[ Exit portal has appeared. ]

Almost instantly, a rapidly swirling blue vortex formed in the center of the hall, only a few meters away from him.

Marlon simply shrugged and turned around, moving to assist the others as they stepped into the portal one after another.

===

They appeared on the other side.

Dense fog blanketed the entire region, swallowing the surroundings and making it difficult to tell what time of day it even was. Visibility was limited, and the world beyond a short distance faded into a dull gray haze.

A cruel, putrid stench filled the air, forcing everyone to wrinkle their noses as breathing became uncomfortable.

Stepping out of the portal, Marlon scanned the area and quickly spotted a group of young gangsters stationed nearby. They were all dressed in the same outfit as the triplets, making it easy to tell who they were affiliated with.

The gangsters also heard the reaction from the portal and the approaching footsteps. Realizing that something was wrong, they immediately moved closer, while a few of them hurried back to inform Tinubu.

When they learned about Chike’s death, their mood instantly dampened.

A few of them turned suspicious gazes toward Marlon and the others, clearly trying to place the blame on them. However, before the misunderstanding could settle in, Bola and Ramson quickly spoke up, correcting them and clearing the air before things escalated further.

Tinubu arrived almost immediately in a black scrap runner. He leapt out of the rugged-looking vehicle before it even came to a full stop and rushed straight toward them.

However, the moment he learned of Bola’s fate, the energizing presence he carried quickly wore off. A heavy, solemn expression replaced it, settling clearly on his face.

He stood there in silence for a few seconds before confirming from Bola and Ramson exactly how Chike had died. The instant he heard the details, his mood plummeted even further.

Tinubu turned to look at Bola and Ramson, both of whom had their heads bowed shamefully toward the ground, unable to meet his gaze.

Seeing them in that state, Tinubu seemed unsure of how to react.

Marlon noticed the subtle contraction of Tinubu’s facial muscles, as though he was struggling to hold back tears.

At that moment, Marlon wondered if Tinubu was one of those gangster bosses who genuinely cared deeply about their members.

That thought, however, quickly changed when he heard a nearby gangster whisper that Chike had been the boss’s favourite nephew.

They were related, no wonder.

All Marlon felt then was pity. It was never easy to lose a relative, especially one whose body wasn’t even intact enough to be brought back and properly buried.

The solemn atmosphere lingered for over two minutes before Tinubu finally spoke to Marlon.

He invited them to his base for dinner and offered them a place to rest after the exhausting raid.

Since they were all drained, both physically and mentally, from the recently concluded operation, they had little choice but to accept.

They entered the scrap runner alongside Tinubu, while the others rode beside them on bikes.

Soon, they arrived at a massive building. Among a street filled with collapsed structures, it stood as the only one left completely unscathed.

With a closer look, it became obvious that the place had either been a hotel or the residence of a wealthy individual before the apocalypse.

"Welcome to my base. We like to call it the Black Tower," Tinubu introduced with a gentle smile, one that seemed to hide a great deal of pain beneath it.

"It looks great," Marlon responded honestly.

Tinubu only returned a quiet smile as he escorted them inside.

It was definitely a hotel.

The moment Marlon saw the interior of the first room, which resembled a lobby, he came to a clear conclusion about the building’s original purpose.

As if sensing his thoughts, Tinubu turned to him and explained.

"This place is an heirloom of my family. It was built by my grandfather and managed by my father before the cataclysm. Now it’s run by me, or rather, used by me, since we don’t do any hospitality business anymore." A faint trace of enthusiasm crept into his voice as he spoke.

"Place is too clean. Feels weird seeing a lobby that doesn’t smell like rot in this place." Davidson commented while observing the walls.

"What did you say?"

Davidson’s words seemed to irritate Tinubu, who turned toward him with a sharp, hostile glare.

Sensing the sudden tension, Marlon quickly stepped in and spoke in Davidson’s place, managing to calm the infuriated boss.

======

The place resembled a ceremonial hall. Hundreds of tables and chairs were neatly arranged, each covered with red cloth that gave the interior a luxurious and refined atmosphere.

Because of the fog outside, the building had reinforced windows installed—thick glass panels faintly tinted, with thin metallic lines running through them. They dulled the light and kept the mist from seeping inside.

Warm lights illuminated the hall, reflecting off the clean floor and creating an almost surreal sense of calm.

It felt disconnected from the ruined streets outside, as though the apocalypse had never touched this place.

Several young women moved about efficiently, cleaning and setting up the tables.

Despite the absence of guests, the hall felt lively.

If someone took a picture and posted it online, no one would suspect it stood in a place riddled with death, destruction, and complete abandonment by the world.

"I take back my words from earlier. This place is beyond nice. It beats plenty of hotels back in the city," Marlon commented.

The others couldn’t help but agree.

Clarissa especially, who was already drooling as the aromas from the food being brought in by the staff filled the hall.

Emma and Davidson weren’t any different. They found it hard to believe that a place like this existed in such a part of the world. If they shared it with their peers, few would believe them.

On the way there, Bola and Ramson had excused themselves to attend to something else. They were unwilling to eat, especially after the death of their brother.

As a result, aside from the staff, only Tinubu and the three of them remained.

Seeing their reactions and hearing their praise, Tinubu led them toward their designated table with a proud yet restrained expression.

The table was filled with roasted meat, bowls of rice, grilled fish, and warm bread. The aroma hit them instantly, making their mouths water.

Clarissa and the others visibly relaxed. After everything they had endured, a proper meal felt like a rare luxury.

Marlon quickly thanked Tinubu, and the others followed suit. The gang leader simply nodded, a faint smile appearing on his face.

Without another word, they began to eat. The soft sounds of cutlery and quiet chewing filled the hall, bringing with it a brief moment of peace that washed away part of the stress they carried from the portal.