037 A Dashing Departure

"Damn it! What is he doing?!"
In a conference room, a man erupted in furious curses. He was impeccably dressed in a suit, a delicate mechanical watch gleaming on his wrist.
His face was flushed, tugging at the taut collar of his shirt. He looked as if he were on the verge of violence.
"A, I think you owe us an explanation."
On an ornate chair nearby, a middle-aged man with an aura of authority spoke, tapping his cane against the floor.
His tone was not nearly as aggressive as the first man's, yet it sent an inexplicable pressure rippling through the room.
Across from them sat a cold-faced man wearing a hat, his skin pale as a corpse.
"I'm sorry, I can't give you an explanation."
"But he's losing his mind! He’s already lost the qualifications for the Hunter’s Game, and yet he’s still roaming the forest like a madman, hunting others! And his targets are other hunters! That’s a blatant violation of the game’s rules!"
The suited man banged the table, shouting.
"I told you, I cannot give you an explanation. I have no control over his actions…"
The cold-faced man felt a headache coming on.
"But…" The suited man tried to speak again.
"Enough. I’ve already dispatched a squad to eliminate him. We should have results within minutes…"
A raspy female voice echoed through the conference room.
In the dim light, on a purple leather sofa, a figure in a wine-red suit looked up at the screen. Her tailored trousers crossed elegantly, gold lacquer tracing from the toe to the sole of her black leather shoes. Silver hair cascaded like a waterfall, gently draping over her shoulder.
She raised her right hand, slowly swirling a glass of red wine.
Though her words were spoken lightly, the nine directors from different conglomerates present fell silent, including the man who had just been shouting with the most fervor. The room grew quiet.
"He’s certainly a nuisance, breaking the rules. But isn’t it interesting?" The woman tapped her finger on the sofa.
"If he manages to survive the squad’s gunfire,"
"I wouldn’t mind giving him a chance to live…"
Meanwhile, deep in the forest, the tension among all the hunters mounted. The recent broadcast had made it clear: Hunter Number 7, though stripped of his qualifications, was still prowling the mountains, and now he was hunting other hunters.
In just a few minutes, he had taken out three hunters—aggressive, lethal!

Like a sword hanging overhead, the remaining five hunters were taut with nerves, gripping their rifles tightly.
They watched for every rustle in the grass and wind.
By the creek, two hunters walked together—Number 3 and Number 4. Sensing danger, they had decided to cooperate after a brief exchange.
They figured that two were safer than one.
But in numbers, the target grew larger…
Suddenly, as they advanced, Number 3 spotted a flicker of movement in the woods to his left. His ability was super-vision, which allowed him to see distant things with ease.
He saw clearly: the newcomer wore a black hunting coat, smeared with blood, and sunglasses.
It was Knight Number 7!
"Number 4, be careful! He’s already near us, watch for Number 7’s sudden attack!"
Number 3 warned his temporary companion behind him.
"Oh, is that so?" came a strange voice.
"You!"
Number 3 spun around, finger on the trigger.
Bang!
He was a step too late. Four thick gun barrels blocked his mouth, all firing at once.
Blood exploded, forming a misty fan behind his head, scattering bits and pieces everywhere.
Cassius was drenched in blood, drops clinging to his chiseled face, slowly dripping down.
"You have killed Player Number 3."
"You have acquired his ability: Hawkeye."
"Hawkeye: Hunter Number 3 possesses super-vision, not only able to see distant objects but also observe them in detail, storing images in his mind like photographs."
"You have killed Player Number 4."
"You have acquired his ability: Instant Acceleration."
"Instant Acceleration: Hunter Number 4 can temporarily triple his reaction speed compared to a normal person, giving him a powerful advantage in moments of danger."
Unfortunately, Hunter Number 4’s ability failed to activate. He tried, but it was useless…
Because he and Cassius shared the same type of ability!
Cassius possessed Meditation Time, which allowed him to greatly enhance his physical and neural reaction speed for short periods, increasing his information processing capacity fiftyfold. Time itself seemed to slow before him.

Comparing their abilities made it clear:
Number 4’s Instant Acceleration was but a stripped-down version of Meditation Time, its effect pitifully inferior.
Meditation Time’s boost was at least ten times greater than Instant Acceleration. So, even though Number 4 reacted in that critical moment, Cassius still snapped his neck from behind with ease, killing him without resistance.
He couldn’t even put up a proper fight.
This illustrated how similar abilities could create overwhelming suppression—a strong user would possess unimaginable power and dominance over a weaker one…
Thud. His boots pressed into blood-soaked mud, leaving a gruesome footprint.
Cassius moved deeper into the forest to search for his next target, but the squad had already located him via cameras and intercepted him as he was leaving.
A fierce gunfight erupted, bullets shredding bark from the trees. The ground was riddled with holes, with faint traces of blood visible.
The squad numbered ten, each with top-tier skills and marksmanship, and both the captain and vice-captain possessed specialized combat abilities. Even with his peak human prowess, Cassius was brutally suppressed.
Three bullet wounds appeared on his body, blood pouring out and weakening him.
If not for the two effects of Jessica’s pendant, Cassius would have been killed already.
[Effect 1: Last Stand—when Cassius is in mortal danger, his physical functions are temporarily increased by twenty percent.]
[Passive 2: Danger Sense—somewhere, there are people who love you, secretly watching over and protecting you.]
"Huff… huff… huff…"
Cassius sat slumped against a tree trunk, hands dangling and forming pools of blood on the ground.
Trembling, he took out a cigarette and lighter, lit it, and put it in his mouth.
On the other side, the squad, seeing no movement for a long time, cautiously approached, weapons ready.
The captain rolled forward, about to fire—
—but suddenly raised his hand, signaling a halt.
Behind the tree, a man sat slumped on the ground, lifeless, his cigarette still burning in his mouth.
Wisps of smoke drifted through the canopy, rising toward the sky.