Regression: Reclaiming the End-Chapter 25: Sweep

We sat there for a while longer, finishing off the last of the skewers and rice, the plates nearly licked clean.

Noel leaned back with a satisfied sigh, patting his stomach. "Man, I forgot how good street food tastes after grinding in the Rift."

I chuckled softly, dabbing my mouth with a napkin. "Yeah. It’s the little things, huh?"

He shot me a grin, his eyes still carrying that lingering spark. "So, you’re really heading back in after this?"

I gave him a firm nod. "Yeah. There’s no time to waste."

Noel shook his head in mock disbelief, laughing. "Damn, Nile... or should I say, Blank. You’re really gonna shock the world again, huh?"

I smirked, standing up and stretching my arms over my head. "Guess I can’t help it."

He snorted, standing up beside me. "Well, don’t forget us little guys when you’re breaking records, alright?"

I gave him a solid pat on the shoulder. "I won’t. Just make sure when I call you, you’re ready to step up."

Noel grinned wide, sparks crackling softly at his fingertips. "Oh, you better believe it."

With that, we both smiled, the weight of unspoken promises hanging between us as we left the plaza — one of us heading back into the heart of the labyrinth, and the other heading toward the future we were both going to fight for.

-

As I walked away from the plaza, weaving through the bustling crowd, a flicker of light from a massive holo-screen overhead caught my eye.

I stopped, glancing up.

The news feed was rolling — bright, energetic colors and excited commentators filling the screen.

BREAKING ANNOUNCEMENT: OFFICIAL RIFT MARKET TO BE ESTABLISHED!

The headline scrolled across as images of glowing, multi-colored magic stones filled the display. Hunters, climbers, and traders were shown exchanging stones, crystals, and rare materials — the spoils looted from the Labyrinth’s depths.

"Starting next week," the voiceover boomed, "the government and the Astral Guild Council will officially launch the Rift Market, a regulated hub where climbers can exchange magic stones and Rift materials for currency, artifacts, and rare resources. With demand for Labyrinth materials skyrocketing, this new marketplace is set to change the global economy!"

I narrowed my eyes slightly, a faint smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.

So the Rift Market is finally happening.

Back before regression, it had been a game-changer — a system that made magic stones not just labyrinth loot, but a global commodity. Weapons, armor, enchantments, even medicines — everything revolved around the materials harvested from the Rift. And now, it was being rolled out earlier than I remembered.

’Looks like the timeline’s shifting faster than I thought’ I mused, turning away.

The humid air of Davao wrapped around me as I made my way along the Toril Coastal Highway.

Ahead, rising like a scar against the coastline, was the Crimson Rift — a massive, blood-red tear in reality, pulsing faintly like a living wound. Dark mist coiled at its edges, and faint whispers echoed even from this distance.

I slowed my steps, watching the scene unfold.

Hunters and climbers gathered near the entrance, some in small teams, others pacing nervously on their own. Makeshift tents lined the area, selling potions, charms, and basic gear. Spectators crowded behind the barricades, some livestreaming the moment, others simply holding their breath as new challengers prepared to enter the Rift.

There was an unmistakable buzz in the air — the thrill of opportunity, of danger, of ambition.

A squad from the local guild, clad in matching crimson-and-gold cloaks, stepped confidently forward, weapons gleaming in the afternoon sun. They were all laughing, hyping each other up, determined to test their strength against the Rift’s shifting horrors.

I stood back, hands in my pockets, quietly observing.

So many were eager to jump in. So many ready to stake their lives on power, fame, or fortune.

Before I got too close to the Rift entrance, I paused.

Up ahead, just past the supply tents, I could see the growing crowd of reporters, vloggers, and media drones hovering in the air. Cameras flashed, mics were shoved toward returning teams, and voices echoed with urgent questions:

"—How far did you get inside?"

"—Any signs of Blank yet?"

"—What do you say about the rumor that the next floor is unbreakable without a raid team?"

I exhaled sharply.

’Damn.’

Without wasting time, I reached into my inventory pouch and pulled out the concealing mask — Veil of the Hollow, a thin, sleek, enchanted to suppress facial recognition spells and dampen magical scans.

I slipped it over my face smoothly, adjusting the fit.

In the reflection of a nearby polished supply truck window, I caught my own masked gaze.

Just another hunter now. Anonymous. Unnoticed.

I kept my hood low and walked calmly through the outer edge of the crowd, avoiding the direct glare of the cameras. I could hear the media chatter continue:

"Do you think Blank will appear today?"

"Some say he’s already ahead. What do you think?"

"Can anyone really solo the sixth floor after that last boss mutated?"

I smirked faintly beneath the mask.

’They can keep guessing.’

I slipped past the last line of tents, the Rift’s dark pulse now just ahead.

Time to disappear into the depths again — while the world’s eyes stayed busy watching the wrong places.