Chapter 139 : World Summit - Tensions in Manhattan
Twilight set the Manhattan skyscrapers ablaze, their glass facades reflecting reddish glints that contrasted with the darkening sky. The Freedom Sky Tower, a colossal structure of reinforced glass and strengthened alloys, rose above the urban landscape like a monument to human pride in the face of Portal chaos. Erected specifically to host high-security international meetings, it had been evacuated within an eight-block perimeter.
The deserted streets echoed only with the measured steps of elite tactical squads. Combat helicopters traced concentric circles in the sky, while energy barriers, products of the best anti-mana technologies, formed an invisible dome around the complex. Manhattan, normally frenetic, seemed to hold its breath, as if sensing the importance of the deliberations about to take place.
On the 157th floor, the council room was a masterpiece of defensive architecture disguised as diplomatic luxury. The walls, adorned with priceless contemporary artwork, concealed defense systems capable of neutralizing even an S-ranked Hunter. The central table, carved from a massive block of bluish-tinted obsidian, had been extracted from an A-ranked dungeon somewhere in the Carpathians – an eloquent symbol of humanity’s ability to exploit mystical resources for its own use.
Alexander Creed, the American S-ranked Hunter, stood by the bay windows, his silhouette outlined against the Manhattan skyline. His aura, even contained, caused a subtle but undeniable pressure in the room. At fifty-two, Creed embodied American power: an imposing physique forged by twenty-five years of fighting monsters, a weathered face marked by experience and a scar running from his left temple to his jaw – a memento of a legendary confrontation with the Oregon Behemoth. His custom three-piece suit couldn’t completely conceal his developed musculature, nor the discreet case containing his personal artifact: a three-thousand-year-old ceremonial dagger, imbued with mana so dense it was almost palpable even to the uninitiated.
One by one, the representatives of the major world powers entered the room, escorted by their personal guards who were forced to remain outside. Only those directly involved in the negotiations were granted entry: heads of state, defense ministers, and most importantly, the precious S-ranked Hunters, those exceptional beings capable of standing against the most terrifying threats emerging from the Portals.
- "Twenty-three confirmed disappearances in three months," announced Creed without preamble, as the last participants took their seats. His deep voice resonated through the room. "Twenty-three A-ranked Hunters vanished without a trace, in Portals classified as secure."
He swept his gaze across the assembly, lingering on each face with calculated intensity.
- "This isn’t an American, Russian, or Chinese problem. It’s a global threat that concerns us all."
Liu Wei, the Chinese S-ranked representative, sat perfectly straight, his impassive face betraying only constant vigilance. Tall and slender, he wore a modernized traditional suit, deep black enhanced with discreet red embroidery. At sixty, he was the oldest S-ranked Hunter present, but his appearance barely suggested forty – a side effect of his exceptional mastery of Yang-type mana.
- "And you naturally propose that the United States take the lead in operations, don’t you, Creed?" he articulated with deceptive gentleness, his slender fingers caressing the edge of the table. "How convenient."
The air in the room seemed to thicken, charged with static electricity. Advisors and assistants exchanged tense glances, aware that the slightest spark between two S-ranked Hunters could transform this diplomatic meeting into an international catastrophe.