Dungeon King of the New Era

"Raven, let go." 

Shura says, his voice calm but firm. He took a deep breath before continuing.

"These people may be incompetent, but they're still necessary. You don't want to deal with the headache of running an association yourself, do you? If you take out all the key figures, who's going to handle the daily necessities? The guild registrations, the dungeon permits, the supply chains? You'll have to do it yourself."

Raven scowls, clearly displeased. 

He looks at Jeremey, then back at Shura. His grip tightens for just a second—long enough for Jeremey to flinch—before he finally sighs and releases him, letting Jeremey slump onto the floor, gasping for air.

"Tch. Fine. But only because I don't want to deal with the mess if they're gone." 

Raven mutters. With an almost lazy motion, he strides forward and takes the empty seat at the large council table, reclining comfortably as if he owns the place.

The association members remain frozen in their spots, glancing at each other, uncertain of what to do next. The tension in the room hasn't dissipated—it has simply shifted.

All eyes turn to Shura, waiting for an explanation.

"Who the hell is this? What is he doing here? What's going on? Shura Black, explain yourself right now!" 

Someone demands in an angry voice.

Shura remains silent for a moment, trying to figure out how to respond. How much should he reveal? How much can he reveal?

But before he can say anything, Raven speaks up, his voice dripping with amusement.

"Wow. You people have such bad memories. Especially after how much you profited from my existence. Have you really forgotten all the bullshit you put me through ten years ago?" 

He says, leaning forward on the table. His smirk is sharp, almost predatory. 

The room goes deathly silent.

The older members stiffen, their faces growing pale as realization slowly dawns upon them. Whispers spread across the room, murmured disbelief and confusion thick in the air.

And then, finally, one of the senior members—an older man with graying hair and deep lines on his face—stares at Raven for a long moment before his eyes widen in shock. His voice is barely above a whisper when he speaks.

"Raven Steel…"

The moment the name leaves his lips, the rest of the room falls into chaos.

Gasps and murmurs spread like wildfire. Chairs scrape against the floor as some members stand, their bodies tense with disbelief. Some look as though they've seen a ghost. Others look horrified.

Raven, however, merely watches them with mild amusement. He neither confirms nor denies it. But then again, neither does Shura.

That silence alone is confirmation enough.

"Impossible. That's impossible! Raven Steel died! He—he sacrificed himself! There's no way—" 

One man stammers. 

"Then explain why I'm sitting here, alive and well. Go on, say more. I would love to hear what you think about me and my 'death'. Did you all milk it as much as you could?" 

Raven interrupts smoothly. He leans back in his chair, arms crossed. 

No one has an answer for that.

Fear creeps into the eyes of the older members, those who remember exactly who Raven was—and what he was capable of.

The newer members, however, don't seem as shaken.

"What's the big deal? Even if he is Raven Steel, so what? The world's changed. We've changed. He's just an outdated relic from a bygone era" 

Jeremey, still recovering from his earlier humiliation, sneers. He sounded confident, and not like someone who had just been on the verge of death.

Raven chuckles. It's a low, amused sound, but there's a sharp edge to it.

"A relic, huh? Funny. I don't feel outdated. But I'll tell you what—I'll let you believe that, Jeremey. Let's see how long that confidence lasts" 

He muses. 

Jeremey bristles, but for once, he doesn't say anything.

One of the senior members clears his throat, attempting to regain control of the situation.

"Regardless of what has happened in the past, the fact remains that we are in a delicate position. If the public learns about this, the world could be thrown into chaos. We need to handle this situation carefully." 

He begins carefully, 

Shura nods. 

"That's why we're here. We need to figure out how to proceed from this point forward. Raven's return isn't something we can keep hidden forever."

"Then what do you propose we do?" 

Someone asks hesitantly.

Shura glances at Raven. He's the wild card in all of this. No matter what they decide, if Raven doesn't agree, none of it will matter.

Raven stretches, looking completely at ease despite the weight of the situation.

"Well, since I'm so outdated and irrelevant, maybe I should just sit back and watch you all scramble. I'm sure you'll do just fine without me"

He drawls.

Several members visibly grimace.

Shura sighs, already feeling a headache forming. This was going to be a long meeting.

"Let's start the meeting now. So, who would like to speak up first?"

Shura asked, but no one answered his question. Finally, someone spoke up and decided to hand Raven what he thought Raven would need.

A tense silence filled the room as the association members absorbed the weight of Raven's words. 

Some looked at one another, exchanging uncertain glances, while others sat frozen in place, their expressions unreadable.

Once things calmed down, the offers begin to rain down on Raven.

"How about money and property? You did save the world, so I would like to offer it to you."

"No, that is too low. How about making him a member of the association as well? That way, Raven can use his talent for the good of the people and also maintain his legacy. How about it?"

The suggestion of offering Raven riches, properties, and even authority had been a desperate attempt to keep his return under wraps, to erase his name from history and ensure that the current powers remained unchallenged.

"Nah, not interested. Frankly, it all sounds like too much trouble and I don't want to spend all my time on worthless shit!"

But now, with Raven boldly refusing their proposal, panic began to set in.