Mad Hatter's Guide to Clearing The Game
Chapter 96: Ch94. Pain as a teacher (18) - Hideout

Chapter 96: Ch94. Pain as a teacher (18) - Hideout

Miles kept his eyes on Kurt as they moved through the ruins.

Even after everything he had seen, the monsters, the barren wasteland, the impossible fight, the man beside him was still the biggest enigma of all.

’Who the hell is this guy?’ Miles frowned inwardly, watching Kurt.

The man walked ahead, casual but precise, his long coat billowing slightly with each step. His tall and lean figure wrapped in a long, tattered coat that fluttered with each movement. His messy brown hair, streaked with white strands, fell just past his ears.

A frayed bandage covered his right eye, while his left eye gleamed in that impossible silver hue, sharp and calculating. His face bore faint scars, hints of battles long past. His posture was relaxed, almost lazy, but every movement felt fluid, precise, and intentional.

Like a predator who never lets his guard down, even when he’s smiling.

Kurt’s boots crunched against the shattered debris of whatever this place used to be, rusted metal, cracked stone, and things Miles did not want to identify. The eerie fog that had been pressing in from all sides seemed lighter here, pushed back by the colossal structure they were approaching.

It loomed over them like the skeleton of some forgotten titan, half-buried in the wreckage of time. Towers of twisted, hollow steel jutted toward the sky, their jagged edges fused with alien-looking stone. Blue veins of faint energy pulsed along the surface, like the entire thing was still... Alive.

"This where you live?" Miles finally spoke. His voice sounded smaller than he intended.

"Kind of." Kurt chuckled. "I spend most of my time out here, hunting and scavenging. The crafters of Luna Sea are always eager to put their hands in the remnants of the Old Civilization."

Miles waited for Kurt to go on with his explanation, but the man did not speak again, until they reached a wide, cracked entrance leading into the structure.

Kurt pushed aside a metallic panel, revealing a makeshift door that creaked open with a strained groan.

Inside, the place was... Less ruined than expected.

The first room was a large chamber, its ceiling reinforced with metal plating. Improvised torches of blue flame lined the walls, giving the space an eerie, dim glow. In the center, a low-burning firepit sat within a shallow trench, stacked with pieces of scavenged wood and blackened bones.

Nearby, a pile of supplies rested against the far wall. Rusted crates, scrap weapons, a few satchels filled with things Miles did not recognize.

"You eat meat?" Kurt motioned for Miles to sit near the fire.

"Depends on what you call meat." Miles eyed him warily.

Kurt snorted. He walked over to the supply pile and grabbed something wrapped in dark cloth. When he unwrapped it, a thick slab of red flesh came into view.

Miles’ stomach churned.

"That from one of those things?"

"Yep." Kurt smirked, skewering the meat on a long iron rod before holding it over the fire. "They’re nasty, yeah, but their bodies adapt to whatever’s around them. Makes for weird, but surprisingly tasty and nutritious meals."

Miles swallowed his hesitation. He had eaten worse.

Probably.

The two sat in relative silence for a while, the crackling fire filling the empty quietness between them. The scent of searing meat and faint spices mixed with the metallic tang of the air.

Finally, after a while, Kurt spoke.

"Never seen you around. So, you’re probably wondering where the hell you are, right?"

"That obvious?" Miles scoffed.

Kurt smirked, turning the skewer over. The meat sizzled.

"Welcome to The Horizon," he said. "The place where all stories end."

"You’re... Going to have to elaborate on that." Miles frowned.

Kurt pulled a flask from his coat, took a slow sip, then handed it to Miles, who shook his head, summoning the [Desert Rain] from his inventory, squeezing the cactus carefully, and drenching his throat in the refreshing water that came from it.

"Think of it this way," Kurt said, ignoring the fact that Miles had just summoned a cactus from his inventory, and drank from it. "Regular players normally die and their bodies decompose. But when a player awakens their [Classpect]... It’s then that their story begins, but when they die..."

Miles stiffened.

"Then they end up here, where their stories end... That what you’re saying?"

Kurt’s silver eye gleamed in the firelight.

"Yes and no." He gestured around them. "The Horizon ain’t a dungeon, it ain’t a new zone. It’s a graveyard for the stories of those who awakened a [Classpect]. A dumping ground for people who should’ve been erased."

"So... You’re all dead players?" A cold weight settled in Miles’ stomach.

"Some of us, yes, but not all of us." Kurt chuckled.

He pulled the skewer away from the fire, blowing on the meat before tossing it to Miles.

Miles caught it instinctively, staring at the charred, dripping slab. He wasn’t sure if he was actually hungry anymore.

"What about those of you who... Aren’t dead, then?"

Kurt took a bite of his own piece, chewing thoughtfully before continuing.

"The Horizon is a place for the ones the system doesn’t know what to do with," he said. "The dead, they become those things out there. We call them Revenants, but us, the living ones... We’re fragments, players who should’ve been erased, but... Weren’t, we ourselves don’t know why, or what sent us here in the first place."

Miles’ mind raced, a deep crease furrowing his brow.

’So something sent me here, when I was supposed to go straight to Wonderland, but why...?’ He scratched his chin. ’Was it The Archivist?’

"All I know is that we got here through... Different means, other than dying." He shot Miles a look, pointed and unreadable. "Which, I’m guessing, is your case."

Miles clenched his jaw.

"Did she know about this place?’ He set the meat down, his appetite gone.

Kurt noticed but didn’t comment. Instead, he leaned back, resting his arms behind his head.

"The thing is, kid, The Horizon ain’t just a prison." He smirked. "It’s also a proving ground."

"A proving ground?" Miles narrowed his eyes. "For what?"

"For who gets to leave." Kurt’s grin widened.

Miles froze.

"There’s a way out?"

"Oh, yeah." Kurt took another bite, speaking through his chewing. "Few have done it, but it’s possible."

"How?" Miles exhaled sharply, his mind latching onto that one hope like a lifeline.

Kurt finished his food, sucking his fingers. Then, he met Miles’ gaze, his expression serious for the first time since they met.

"You survive."

Silence stretched between them. Then, Kurt smirked again, but this time, it was not cocky.

It was dangerous.

"You fight, you adapt, you prove that you deserve to leave, and whatever entity that looks over this forsaken place might grant you a way out." He said. "Otherwise?" He gestured toward the fog beyond the ruins.

"You become one of them." Miles swallowed hard. He didn’t need to ask what he meant.

The monsters, the ones wearing pieces of players like armor, they had once been like him.

Like Kurt.

His hands clenched into fists.

No.

That was not happening to him.

Kurt must have noticed the fire in his expression because he chuckled, standing up and stretching.

"Alright, kid. You got two choices," he said. "You can sit here, process everything, freak out a little, maybe cry if you’re into that."

He turned, heading toward a corridor leading deeper into the structure.

"Or... You can get off your ass, and I’ll show you how to survive in this hellhole."

Miles stared at him.

Then, despite everything, despite the exhaustion, the fear, the sheer insanity of it all... He grinned, as if this wasn’t the worst thing that had ever happened to him.

But it was not that, which made him excited.

’I still get to make Sarissa swallow her own words...’

"...Alright, Rogue." Miles stood, rolling his shoulders. "Show me."

"Now we’re talking, kid." Kurt’s silver eye gleamed.