The First Men Chronicles

Chapter 51: The World Takes Notice

Draven's vision blurred as his body collapsed, but before he could hit the ground, Kenzy's snake hand coiled around him, holding him midair. Before anyone could react further, Huey's clone landed beside them, his expression unreadable. Gansu walked over, inspecting Draven's injuries—his missing arm still bleeding despite the Jörmungandr properties slowing it down.

"This is bad. He needs treatment immediately," Gansu said, his voice urgent.

Huey, however, remained unbothered. "Circe will handle it," he replied, dismissing the concern with a casual wave.

Draven gritted his teeth and pushed himself upright despite Kenzy's support. "Forget my arm. We need to secure the hybrid and leave before we get more company."

As if his words were a cue from fate, the distant whirring of helicopters filled the air. Three military choppers appeared over the horizon, their rotors cutting through the cold Russian winds. Their searchlights flickered across the wreckage, illuminating the sheer devastation left in the wake of Draven's battle with Boris.

Draven clicked his tongue. "Shit… we can't take them right now."

Huey's clone stepped forward, unfazed. Clapping his hands together, roots burst from the ground, wrapping around the four-cornered box where the hybrid dragon was contained. As the wooden tendrils tightened around it, Draven, Kenzy, and Gansu were swallowed into the earth, disappearing in an instant.

At that very moment, a figure leaped from one of the helicopters, descending at high speed to intercept them. His one patched eye gleamed under the moonlight, his long sword drawn, but as his feet touched the ground—Draven's team was gone.

"Tch… too late." Ivan muttered, his deep Russian accent laced with irritation.

The helicopter pilots, still airborne, stared in horror at the ruins of Nagurskoye. Their voices trembled through the radio.

"What the hell happened here…?"

Ivan, however, wasn't focused on the destruction. His eyes scanned the battlefield, searching for something—or someone.

A low hum filled the air.

Invisible strings began connecting themselves across the ruins, weaving together something monstrous. Ivan's grip on his sword tightened as he instinctively leaped backward, wary of the unfolding horror.

Then, Boris' severed limbs twitched. His hand snapped back into place. His legs reattached themselves. His head rolled along the ground before aligning with his torso— and with a sickening pop, his body reformed, fully restored by his own Thread Manipulation.

Ivan's one visible eye widened.

Boris stretched, cracking his neck, before turning to Ivan with an exhausted smirk. "Damn… I almost died."

He casually waved at the helicopter. "We're leaving. I need to report this to the President."

As they boarded, Ivan asked, "What exactly happened here?"

Boris' smile faded. "A boy who will destroy this world in the near future, if he isn't stopped"

Draven and his team resurfaced from the ground, appearing within The Ten's base.

Huey sat comfortably in a chair, waiting for them. As his clone disintegrated into wooden particles, the box containing the hybrid dragon rested at Draven's feet.

The miniature red dragon inside growled softly, releasing a small flame from its mouth.

Huey walked over, grinning.

"Welcome back, Draven."

His eyes traced over Draven's missing arm before shifting to Gansu and Kenzy.

"You three did well."

Draven, however, remained stone-faced. "Let's just get this over with."

Huey clapped his hands, and a wooden coffin emerged from the ground. The box opened, and Shukaku emerged, its endless void-like insides consuming the hybrid dragon.

"One more left." Huey said, his smirk widening.

Draven's eyes narrowed. "One more?"

Huey turned to face him. "While you were away, our other teams secured two more hybrids. The last one is in Korea." His smirk faded. "I'm going after this one personally."

Clapping his hands again, the coffin sank back into the earth, vanishing.

Draven took a step forward. "And Shiki?"

Huey's grin returned. "Rest and heal first. When the time comes, I'll take you to him."

Draven scowled, but he knew there was no point in arguing.

As the scene faded, Draven found himself inside The Ten's underground lab. Circe stood over him, her hands glowing with healing Shen as she examined his injuries.

Huey stood beside her, holding a box. Opening it, he revealed a pristine, pure white arm.

"Use your technique and attach this to him," Huey instructed.

Circe hesitated, eyeing the artificial limb. "This will work, but… Huey, you do realize—"

"Just do it."

Huey left the room, leaving Circe alone with Draven.

She sighed, muttering under her breath. "I swear, you're barely human anymore…"

Draven, cold as ever, stared up at the ceiling.

"Just fix my fucking hand."

Circe exhaled and began the procedure.

Meanwhile—Russia Reacts

Boris and Ivan arrived at the Russian Hunter Association Headquarters.

Inside a massive office, the Russian President sat behind a desk, hands clasped together as he listened.

Boris, his expression dark, relayed everything. "Nagurskoye is gone. The Ten is assembling all five hybrids, and we believe their next target is in Korea."

The President's fingers tapped against the desk. "America has been hit. Russia has been hit. China and Egypt too… Korea is the only one left."

Silence.

Then, a cold smile formed on the President's lips. "The Ten has no idea what awaits them in Korea."

News of Nagurskoye's destruction spread across global TV networks.

President Bartoni watched from his office, his expression unreadable.

He exhaled, gripping his phone before dialing an emergency call.

As the line connected, he muttered under his breath.

"There's a reason Korea is the strongest association of all… and we will protect that reputation."