Chapter 040: Awkward Rejection

The game began anew, and this time Xiu Nan refrained from any mischief. He hunted his prey methodically, just like the other hunters. Zone A was relatively flat, with wild rabbits and pheasants scattered everywhere by the organizers. Both types of prey were worth the same points.

As long as a hunter could retrieve the square red plastic chip from the animal’s body, they would gain one point. In a brief span, Cassius had already accumulated twelve points, though he wasn’t among the top scorers of the nine participants. His results only placed him fifth.

The leaderboard in the upper right corner showed Number Three in first place, Number Six in second, and Number Five in third. Their scores were 25, 22, and 16, respectively.

Number Three’s score was even double that of Cassius. But Xiu Nan didn’t lose heart, for in Zone A, only rabbits and pheasants could be found. Such small prey could only withstand a single bullet; a hit meant guaranteed points. Thus, the power of the firearms wasn’t yet apparent.

He knew that when wild boars appeared in Zone B, or tigers and brown bears in Zone C, the difference in weaponry would become increasingly evident. These creatures couldn’t be taken down with a single shot from a light hunting rifle; even heavy rifles would need to hit vital spots.

A temporary lead meant nothing. The top three owed their positions mostly to their special abilities, which gave them a considerable advantage.

Number Three’s ability was Eagle Eye, granting him superhuman vision to spot prey from afar, noticing even the smallest details. Locating rabbits and pheasants was much easier for him, and with a bit of luck, it was no surprise he ranked first.

Number Six, too, possessed a metal prosthetic eye capable of infrared scanning for gathering information—a natural edge in finding prey, which easily secured second place.

But once they entered Zone B, Number Six’s advantage would wane, and the differences in firearms would begin to show. After all, her gun was the worst among the nine.

As the hunt progressed and the prey’s defenses grew stronger, Number Six’s ability would become less effective, and inevitably, she would be knocked down the ranks.

In the forest, the nine hunters roamed ceaselessly. With time, rabbits and pheasants fell one by one.

Cassius encountered other hunters several times, but both sides exercised restraint, keeping a safe distance. After a brief standoff, they reached a tacit agreement and moved on.

Everyone minded their own business, and peace prevailed—until a broadcast shattered the tranquility.

“Contestant Number Eight has entered Zone B…”

The relaxed atmosphere instantly grew tense, and everyone hurried toward Zone B.

After all, elk and wild boar were worth ten times the points of rabbits and pheasants—no one wanted to let others get ahead.

In truth, the organizers hadn’t stipulated how long hunters had to remain in any given zone. Hunters could even head straight to Zone D from the start, with nothing stopping them. However, the broadcast would announce their actions, rendering such moves rather pointless.

It would also provoke unhealthy competition among the hunters.

Thus, a tacit understanding existed: all nine would linger in one zone for a time before moving on.

With Number Eight entering Zone B, the other eight hunters, including Cassius, left Zone A as well.

Zone B, like Zone A, was forested, but with a noticeable slope and gaps between the trees. Occasionally, meadows dotted with wildflowers appeared before the hunters.

Cassius leaned against a tree trunk.

Not far away, on a patch of grass, a wild boar with bristling black hair rooted around for food. It was burly and strong, nearly the size of half a man, its canine teeth protruding upward like tusks—a creature not to be trifled with.

Wild boars were tough and resilient, their hides hard as armor. Medium and small hunting rifles could never fell one with a single shot. Even if several bullets struck, the boar might simply dash away, escaping unscathed.

A slender barrel extended from behind the tree, its mechanism whirring with a sound reminiscent of gears turning.

With a sharp hiss, a bullet shot from the muzzle, spiraling through the air toward the distant boar.

Its rotation reached an astonishing forty-nine hundred revolutions per second!

With a thud, the bullet struck the boar’s skull, drilling through with ease and exiting from the other side.

The boar gave a mournful howl, its body stiffening, then collapsed flatly, blood gushing forth.

At the instant the bullet pierced its skull and entered its head, it had already shredded the brain tissue.

Cassius reloaded on the spot and strode forward.

The Spiral Bullet of his Wanderer’s Hunting Rifle had not disappointed—piercing the skull as effortlessly as stabbing through tofu.

And the report was quiet, comparable to a small handgun.

After processing the kill, Cassius gained ten points.

The leaderboard had already changed. The former third-place hunter, Number Five, had leapt to first. He was the victor of this Brave Challenger event, wielding the fearsome Roaring Heavy Rifle.

In Zone A, the advantage of his gun had not yet shown, but in Zone B, its effects became fully evident. Even a wild boar clad in bristles could not withstand his shot.

Meanwhile, the previous leader, the prosthetic-eyed woman from Black Crocodile Group, quickly fell behind. She couldn’t even hold onto the top three, barely clinging to fourth by virtue of her ability. But soon she would be thoroughly surpassed.

The previous second place in Zone A, Number Three with Eagle Eye, dropped the most—falling from second to fifth, with another competitor right on his heels, soon to push him to sixth.

The reason lay in the firearms—the third hunter ranked third from last in the Brave Challenger event. Excluding Cassius, his hunting rifle was the second worst.

Cassius’s rank improved dramatically in Zone B, jumping to third place on the leaderboard. He hadn’t even tried particularly hard—just walked along, taking down prey as he encountered them.

He naturally earned this rank.

Cassius continued onward, wandering through the wooded hills.

A sudden rustle from the nearby branches—Snake Eyes emerged from the left, still sporting his grotesque makeup.

“Hey, handsome…” he began.

Cassius abruptly raised a hand, stopping him.

“Wait a moment.”

He reached into his coat pocket and drew out a pair of sunglasses, slowly donning them. Then he turned to Snake Eyes, saying nothing, but making it clear: If you have something to say, say it quickly, I’m listening.

Snake Eyes stared blankly for a moment.

“Hey, handsome, why are you wearing sunglasses?”

“Because you’re an eyesore,” Cassius replied honestly, though it wasn’t the main reason.

“You! I…”

Snake Eyes was at a loss for words. He’d come to display his ability, only to be mocked?

How was his look an eyesore? He was a visual-style icon—any fashion stylist would praise him!

“I…” Snake Eyes took a deep breath, about to retort.

Cassius raised his rifle, interrupting Snake Eyes’s attempt to cast his spell.

“Sorry, Number Nine. I think you’d better keep your distance. If I lose my temper, I might just shoot you…”

“You’re just too damned ugly…”