Solo Leveling: Banishment of the Anomaly

The Overseer exhaled sharply, his divine form wavering for a brief moment as he finished recalling the events of the past thirty seconds.

Letting out a long, weary sigh, his fingers resting lightly upon the Genesis Candle that had once anchored a portion of Jake's soul.

Faint golden wisps rose from the candle's flickering flame, twisting into hazy images—scenes from Jake's experiences in the Worldview of Solo Leveling unfolding before his eyes.

He watched in silence, absorbing the events, but the moment the memories revealed a crucial detail, his brows furrowed.

A hint of frustration flashed across his otherwise serene expression.

"Those two fools!" his voice carried a rare edge of frustration.

"Why did they aid that Fateless anomaly in growing stronger? I explicitly instructed them on the nature of a Fateless and entrusted them with retrieving the Books of Beginnings and Ends!"

Dissapointment simmered into a cold calculation as he closed his eyes, sinking deeper into thought.

Then, a sudden realization struck him.

His golden gaze snapped open, sharp as celestial blades.

"Wait… something is wrong..." he muttered, voice dropping to a near whisper.

"Why hasn't he used his innate Fate Usurper abilities?"

Jake had been inside the Outerversal Realm of Novels and Nigh-Creation for over three months, yet there was no indication that he had tapped into his inherent power.

It was unnatural. Someone of his nature should have already begun stripping away the concepts of fate and dominion, corrupting the fundamental laws of that world.

"That just means he hasn't recovered his memories…" he murmured.

Despite how reassuring that conclusion should have been, a deep unease settled within him.

"But... this is rather too good to be true..."

In all his eons of existence, never had a Fateless failed to awaken its inherent nature.

The anomaly was acting like an ordinary lost soul, as if something had severed his connection to the very laws that defined him.

A deep unease settled in the Overseer's chest.

His expression darkened, and with a flick of his wrist, reality itself cracked apart before him.

A gaping tear in space formed, unstable and violent, seething with raw chaos.

Reaching into the void, the Overseer extracted an ancient tome, its presence sending a shudder through the very fabric of existence.

The book was massive, bound in chains and inscribed with countless divine seals.

The aura it exuded was foul, oppressive, and filled with malevolence—an existence outside the jurisdiction of his Father's divine laws.

Even the Overseer, a being of immeasurable authority, found himself gulping as he laid eyes upon it.

It was no ordinary record.

This was one of the Books of Beginning and End, created by the Almighty Father himself.

A book that cataloged all knowledge of anomalies, beings that defied existence and heavenly laws, creatures born of forbidden concepts, and entities that should never have existed—the malevolent horrors that once roamed unchecked before and after the creation of Earth.

With a single touch, the chains rattled violently, resisting his command.

The ancient locks twisted and shuddered before finally clicking open, and in an instant...

Dark crooked letters, not written but alive, began to crawl from the tome's pages.

A cacophony of unholy voices even erupted from chaotic scripts.

Laughter. Screams. Cries of agony. Malicious whispers dripping with venomous intent.

The very essence of malevolence surged forth, tendrils of forgotten darkness threatening to break free.

But the Overseer was prepared.

His third eye snapped open at the center of his forehead, radiating an intense light of purification, searing away the encroaching darkness before it could spread beyond the confines of the book.

The chaotic script that had spilled from the pages trembled and coiled back into their respective verses, subdued beneath his divine will.

Only then did the Overseer turn his focus to the text, his eyes scanning hundreds of pages in mere seconds.

He flipped back to Chapter 26, Verse 4, where the entry on the Fateless had once been inscribed.

His breath caught in his throat.

The text was gone.

His mouth fell open. His divine mind, usually so composed, stalled in disbelief, "Where… is the text?"

He turned another page. Then another. Frantically, he searched for the records.

The Chronicles of the Leviathan were still there.

The World-Devouring Serpent remained documented.

Even the Origin of Malkovria, the previous owner of the Abandoned Star Region, was untouched.

But the Fateless?

It was erased as if the very concept of its existence had been wiped away.

His grip tightened around the tome, divine light crackling around his fingers in his growing panic.

"It can't be! I know it was here!"

"Before the Almighty Father disappeared, he had personally read aloud this book, recounting the tales of forbidden anomalies—particularly the very verse of the Fateless."

The Overseer remembered it vividly as he continued, "Yet now... his texts were gone. This shouldn't be possible..."

His golden eyes darkened, shadows pooling beneath his gaze as a cold realization set in.

Something beyond his comprehension was at play.

With a sharp breath, he slammed the tome shut, divine chains rewrapping themselves tightly around it, sealing away its accursed contents once more.

He had no time to linger.

With a mere thought, reality tore apart around him, and he vanished from the Forbidden Room of the Outerversal Realm.

His divine form streaking across the great beyond of the Archaic Library, trying to confirm something.

If the 13th Book of Forbidden Existence had been altered, then perhaps the oldest records of existence still held the truth.

...

In a quiet hospital room, a slender hand twitched beneath the covers before slowly moving.

A soft groan escaped Joo-Hee's lips as she stirred awake, her head throbbing in protest as she slowly opened her eyes.

"Ughh… this headache… Damn it, where even am I…?"

The words slipped out in Bisaya, her (his) mother language on the previous world.

Still groggy, she turned her head slightly, blinking as her surroundings came into focus—a sterile white ceiling, a faint scent of antiseptic in the air, and the soft hum of medical equipment.

Then, a voice startled her, "Ms. Lee! You're finally awake?!"

A man in a black suit stood by her bedside, eyes wide in shock before breaking into a relieved smile.

"This is incredible news! The Chairman will be overjoyed to hear this!"

Joo-Hee stiffened as the man was speaking Hanguk-eo, and it dawned on her—she had made a mistake.

Fortunately, he didn't seem to react to the foreign words she had unconsciously muttered earlier.

She let out a quiet breath of relief.

As the agent finished his report, he chuckled lightly and continued, "They'll be arriving soon, Ms. Lee. But I must say, you truly are hardworking. Not many Koreans are still proficient in Filipino languages these days compared to years ago."

"Ever since dungeons began bombarding the Philippines, hunters have stopped studying the language and have instead focused on learning others, like English, Mandarin, and Japanese, to increase their job opportunities."

Joo-Hee cannot believe what she just heard.

Her fingers gripped the agent's arms, startling him as she leaned forward.

"D-did you just say the Philippines was invaded?!" she demanded, urgency thick in her voice. "What about Visayas? Is it still accessible?!"

The agent blinked in confusion, caught off guard by the intensity of her reaction.

"Uh… Yes, the Philippines was indeed invaded. But I believe Visayas is still somewhat accessible. Back when I was dispatched there, it was holding out better than other regions. However, Mindanao… is a lost cause."

"What do you mean… lost?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

The agent sighed, "Mindanao has been completely submerged. The entire region was consumed by an S-Rank boss monster… the Subterranean Kraken."

Joo-Hee had always planned to visit the Philippines, to see if it was the same as the world she once knew.

But hearing such devastating news only filled her with pity for the country.

Yet, despite the tragedy, a glimmer of opportunity surfaced in her mind—a chance for growth.

However, the moment she tried to think further, a sharp pain lanced through her skull.

Her grip on the agent's arms weakened as her vision wavered slightly.

"Ms. Lee! Are you okay?!" the agent exclaimed, steadying her.

He sighed in concern, "Please, don't push yourself. It's only been a day since you collapsed. You need to rest and avoid any unnecessary stress."

Joo-Hee leaned back against the pillows, her breathing uneven.

'A day...?' she thought, her mind racing.

Then, a realization struck her, 'Wait… isn't today my scheduled dungeon rental?!'

She clenched her jaw in frustration.

'Tch. Looks like I'll have to reschedule.'