The world slowed down.
The cold brilliance of the moon spilled across the alleyway, illuminating every brick, every shadow, every blade pointed in his direction. A dozen D-Rank Hunters circled him, weapons drawn—modern firearms with mana attachments, spears laced with runes, jagged cleavers humming with elemental enchantments. All pointed at him. All hungry.
Such a shame to be called Hunters… River thought, his gaze sliding across each face, committing every one of them to memory.
Hunters—the supposed defenders of humanity, the shield between civilians and the abyss of monsters. Yet here they were, ready to murder one of their own in the dark of night. For ego. For greed. For scraps of treasure and a little more recognition in the guild reports.
He had seen worse in his past life. He had fought alongside the truly depraved. But still… this was rotten enough to boil his blood.
