As Stark's unconscious body vanished with the mysterious figure, chaos erupted among the remaining classifiers.
The collective panic was palpable, the air thick with unease and tension.
"What just happened?" Arthur Moonless exclaid, his voice cutting through the commotion. He clenched his fists, glaring at the spot where Stark had disappeared. "Who was that?!"
"We didn't even sense them coming," Mike Gardenis muttered, his face pale. "That... wasn't soone ordinary."
The classifiers exchanged uncertain glances, their earlier bravado crumbling.
Despite their overwhelming numbers and strength, none had dared to take action when it truly mattered.
Stark's words, veiled in sarcasm but sharp as a blade, still lingered in their minds.
"Mike," Arthur barked, pointing at the man, "Spread the word. We need to know who that was and why they took Stark."
Mike hesitated. "And if they're connected to the Godless Demon?"
"Then we've got bigger problems," Arthur replied grimly. "Stark might be the only one capable of handling this madness. If we lose him, we're all as good as dead."
...
anwhile, Stark's consciousness drifted in a void-like state. His body felt weightless, his mind trapped in a swirl of fragnted thoughts.
"That's so la, you got captured," Domination sighed.
"You're not a princess. Wake up and kick their asses!" Alchemist laughed.
"I say we try to find out what they want first..." Exorcist mumbled.
Stark was stuck in that space, unable to wake himself up for so reason.
Normally, he would co here whenever he was knocked out or asleep.
But this ti was different: he hadn't entered on his own accord, nor had his body simply given out. He had been forcefully put down.
"Hm, maybe I'm finally going to die," he grinned, looking at the dark void.
"Would be surprising if you did," Domination replied. "That guy's aura was familiar. He was definitely from our class."
By that, the crimson figure ant that it sensed the sa aura any other [Domination] user let out.
And so with that information given, the answer was now clear: Domination Association.
If what Arthur and the others said was true, the entire trial, or a huge chunk of it, had been broadcasted. That ant the gig was up.
The Domination Association, whose sole purpose was to prevent issues involving classifiers of their type from becoming public, must be in shambles.
Stark recalled how they had once tried to recruit him into their ranks, only for him to refuse.
If the person who captured him was from their ranks, then they were likely stronger than him, at least in so capacity.
Yet, Stark knew one thing: [Angel of the Spear] was still watching, ready to strike.
"Sorry to disappoint you," Domination interrupted Stark's thoughts, "but the guy that knocked you out used a skill that cancels [Heaven's Spear]."
"Damn."
With his defenses neutralized, Stark could only wait.
Ti in the void felt endless, each mont stretching into eternity.
Eventually, though, the space began to shift.
"Oh?"
The manifestations of classes that often bickered or joked within his mind, suddenly froze mid-action, staring at him.
"Looks like it's ti," Stark mumbled.
In an instant, Stark's perception fractured, and his consciousness was pulled back into his body.
When Stark woke, the world around him was dark.
A blindfold covered his eyes, and his wrists were restrained by sothing cold and heavy.
"What the hell are you doing, Alexis?!"
"Shut the fuck up, it's difficult to do this effectively," a woman snapped.
Stark could feel the sensation of handcuffs tightening around his wrists, draining his aura.
[You have been put in Domination Handcuffs.]
[It is impossible to break free, and all your skills are canceled.]
Even through the blindfold, Stark could see the panel appear, likely generated by the restraints themselves.
These were no ordinary bindings; they had been specifically designed to neutralize classifiers like him.
"He's awake," a man's voice said.
"You just realized?" a woman replied.
"Then I guess there's no need to keep waiting any longer. All of you, take your seats," another voice commanded, this one more authoritative.
A snap echoed through the air, and the blindfold over Stark's eyes vanished.
As his vision adjusted, Stark found himself in a massive chamber.
The room was cold and tallic, illuminated by rows of screens and holograms that displayed information about monsters, classifiers, and global events.
Directly in front of him was a circular table where five individuals sat.
Their expressions ranged from calm to indifferent, their presence radiating imnse power.
On one of the largest screens, bold text appeared:
[Domination Association Commanders]
"Like my animations?" one of the commanders quipped, adjusting his glasses with a grin. "I made them specifically for this."
"..."
[What a bunch of losers :)]
The panel appeared before Stark, his classes' unfiltered thoughts as blunt as ever.
One of the commanders leaned forward, his sharp eyes locked onto Stark.
"Stark Heartsouls," he began. "Do you know why you're here?"
[Because you're all terrified of ? :)]
"I can guess," Stark replied dryly.
"Good. That saves us so ti."
The commander gestured to one of the screens, which began displaying footage of Stark's battle with Follower.
The chaos, the destruction, and the overwhelming display of power played out before them in vivid detail.
"This trial," the commander continued, "was broadcasted to every corner of the world. Do you realize what that ans?"
"It ans the existence of the Domination Class is no longer hidden," another commander interjected, his tone sharp. "And you, Stark, have beco the face of it."
"Congratulations," a woman added sarcastically, leaning back in her chair.
Stark smirked. "Well, glad I could help. Can I leave now?"
The room fell silent, the commanders exchanging glances.
"No," the first commander said firmly. "You're too valuable. And too dangerous."
"..."
Before Stark could respond, the restraints on his wrists pulsed, sending a jolt of energy through his body.
His aura, which had been simring beneath the surface, was completely suppressed.
"We didn't bring you here for a conversation," the glasses-wearing commander said, adjusting his fras again. "We brought you here to ensure that what happened today doesn't spiral out of control."
"And what does that an for ?" Stark asked, his voice calm despite the situation.
"It ans," another commander said, rising from his seat, "you're under our custody until further notice. Your power, your class, they're a threat to the balance we've worked so hard to maintain."
Stark's smirk widened. "Balance? You an the cowardice of classifiers, too scared to step up when it mattered?"
The commander's expression darkened, but before he could respond, Stark leaned forward as much as the restraints allowed, his eyes blazing.
"If you think these little cuffs and fancy chairs make you my captors, you're mistaken," Stark said, his voice low and dangerous. "I'll fucking get out of here, and you know it."
The room fell into tense silence, the commanders visibly unfazed.
"No you won't," the leader of the association, a dark-skinned burly man with sharp teeth responded, "No one can escape these cuffs."
[They should be afraid. Because once I'm free, they'll regret this :)]
The thought flickered in front of Stark, and for the first ti, he found himself agreeing with it wholeheartedly.
For now, he was stuck in this place, but he was sure they wouldn't kill him.
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