Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest novel Chapter 1069

Chapter 1069: Chapter 253.2 - Mission

The hologram shimmered once in the air above her desk, forming in perfect resolution.

Astron’s face appeared.

Unruffled.

Unemotional.

A blank slate.

His hair was slightly tousled, like he’d just come from a walk or a quiet reading session, but his eyes held the same sharp clarity she’d come to expect. Cold, thoughtful. Alert.

’Classic as usual.’

"Miss Reina," he said simply.

Reina allowed herself a small exhale. No need for pleasantries—he wasn’t the type to expect them. Still, habit held.

"Astron," she greeted, her tone level but not unfriendly. "I trust the connection found you without delay."

He gave a short nod. "It did."

She tilted her head slightly, studying him. "You’re off-grid from the academy for the week. I assume that means your mid-terms are finished."

"They are."

"And?" she asked, raising an eyebrow just slightly. "How did they go?"

Astron blinked once, as if the question needed no elaboration.

"They were satisfactory."

Reina let out a short breath through her nose, something caught between a sigh and a laugh. "Satisfactory?"

He nodded again. "Yes. It was as expected."

Typical.

Just... typical.

Reina shook her head lightly, lips curving in a faint, exasperated smile. "You really haven’t changed."

Then leaned back slightly, eyes narrowing in faint amusement. "You know," she said, voice light with memory, "you take after Aaron in this."

Astron’s gaze didn’t change.

He didn’t ask who. He didn’t offer a response. He simply received the statement—filed it, acknowledged it, and moved on. Just as Reina knew he would.

The silence stretched only half a second before she returned to the thread.

"So. ’Satisfactory,’" she echoed, fingers tapping idly against the edge of her desk. "Then let me ask—how should I expect your rankings to shift?"

Astron answered without pause. "There will be improvement. I estimate my new standing should place me between 900 and 1000."

Reina raised an eyebrow, eyes scanning a secondary projection already retrieving Arcadia’s current cadet ranking metrics.

"Well," she said, lips curling faintly, "that is indeed satisfactory."

Astron said nothing.

But he didn’t need to.

The air between them shifted slightly as Reina straightened. Her tone lost its casual edge, smoothing into something precise.

"Astron," she said. "Do you remember what we spoke about last time?"

His expression remained unreadable. But his head inclined, just once.

"The dungeons," he said.

Reina nodded. "Good. Then I won’t waste time reciting the details. You already understand the phenomenon—the change in how gates are responding. That much is clear."

Another short pause. Astron gave no response this time, which Reina took for what it was: agreement, and readiness to hear more.

"Then let me update you," she said, her eyes now locked on his. "Since our last conversation, the number of resonance-selective dungeons has multiplied beyond projected models. The Association’s struggling. Guilds are unable to respond fast enough, and more importantly—many of them can’t."

She leaned forward.

"Because the gates are rejecting veterans. High-stage Hunters. Anyone over the threshold."

A beat.

"Only cadets are being allowed in. And most of them aren’t trained for the kinds of threats these gates are starting to show."

The room went quiet again, heavy with implication.

Reina’s voice dropped slightly—lower, colder.

"Which brings us to this call."

Astron waited.

He didn’t prompt her. Didn’t rush her. He simply remained still, watching with that same eerie patience that had always made Reina think of a loaded mechanism—silent, precise, inevitable.

She continued.

"There’s been a formal activation," she said, tone clipped and professional now. "Protocol ORBITAL FOLD. The Organization has officially intervened. The situation is beyond what the Association can contain alone."

She tapped the side of her desk, and a set of rapidly shifting glyphs illuminated the space beside her—maps, age data overlays, gate formation density charts.

"We don’t have enough cadets in the right places. Not enough under-21 operatives in the guild systems. Entire sectors are showing Class-5 and Class-6 formations, stabilized and unclaimed. If we leave them unmonitored, we risk multiple breaches in urban zones within days."

She looked directly at him.

"You will be sent to the field."

Astron didn’t blink.

He absorbed the information in silence. A few seconds passed. Then—

She flicked a glyph, confirming the administrative tag. "One week. Authorized by Arcadia’s internal scheduling committee due to the mid-term dungeon immersion format. You’re not under movement restrictions. Which means you’re available."

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