The night air was sharp with the metallic tang of blood. Ethan staggered through the narrow backstreets of the industrial district, his lungs burning, his shirt clinging wetly to his skin. Behind him, footsteps thundered in pursuit—too many to count, each one promising death.
The predators had become relentless.
In Chapter 8, the hunters of the black market had been unleashed upon him, mercenaries and assassins drawn by fat contracts. Now, the chase had gone on for hours. Ethan's body was tired, but his mind burned with clarity. The truth was obvious: they weren't just chasing him for blood—they were testing him, probing him, and whoever pulled the strings was watching.
"System," Ethan whispered hoarsely as he ducked behind a rusted shipping container. "Status."
[Host Status: Ethan Graves]Level: 12 → Pending UpgradeCapital Points: 4,700System Energy: 62%Condition: Light lacerations, bruised ribs.Active Task: Survive the Black Market Hunt (Phase II)Hidden Trigger: ???
The display flickered like a heartbeat. The task hadn't been completed yet. Phase II was still ongoing. Which meant there was another layer to the trap.
Ethan smirked grimly, even as sweat slid into his eyes. Good. Let them think I'm cornered. Let them think the prey is exhausted.
Because while the hunters thought they had him in a cage, they hadn't realized that the cage had been rigged from the very beginning.
The Circle Closes
"Spread out! He can't be far!"
The voice echoed down the alley. Armed men fanned out, flashlights cutting white cones through the darkness. Their leader—a burly figure in a wolf-skull mask—lifted his machete, signaling for silence.
Ethan crouched low, his fingers brushing against the cold ground. He could hear the faint whine of drones above, circling like vultures. Traps upon traps.
The mercenaries believed they were herding a cornered beast. They had no idea the ground itself had been seeded with silent teeth.
Three days ago, Ethan had walked these streets, memorizing blind spots and setting up contingencies. When the System first warned him of the black market's bounty, he hadn't wasted time panicking. He'd invested.
And now, the investment was about to mature.
The First Trigger
The first mercenary spotted movement and lunged. "There!"
A shot rang out.
Not from Ethan's gun—but from the wall itself. A turret, camouflaged beneath layers of grime and scrap, swiveled and spat a line of gunfire. The man collapsed before he could scream, his flashlight rolling across the dirt.
Panic erupted.
"What the—?!""Ambush! He set us up!"
Ethan rose slowly from the shadows, blood-streaked but smiling. "You've been chasing me all night. Did you really think I'd run without leaving breadcrumbs?"
The wolf-mask leader snarled, machete glinting in the dim light. "Arrogant bastard. Kill him!"
They charged.
And the second trap sprung.
Chain Reaction
Mines detonated beneath their boots, not lethal enough to vaporize, but vicious enough to maim. Flames licked the walls as carefully placed fuel barrels ignited.
Screams tore through the night as mercenaries stumbled into razor wire strung invisibly across escape routes. A few tried to rally, only to be cut down by automated turrets that emerged like mechanical predators from the rubble.
Ethan strode forward through the chaos, each step measured. His ribs ached, his cuts burned, but his eyes blazed with something far stronger—certainty.
You thought you were the hunters. But you've been walking in my hunt all along.
The System pulsed.
[Capital Points Earned: +1,200][EXP Gained: +3,400][Skill Trigger: Improvised Warfare—Rank Up!]
The notifications stacked, glowing like constellations across his vision.
Duel with the Alpha
The wolf-mask leader roared, slamming his machete into the concrete to clear the smoke. His aura—feral, suffocating—spread like a beast on the hunt.
Unlike the fodder mercenaries, this one wasn't just a hired thug. Ethan could see it in his movements, in the predatory patience. This man was a professional hunter.
"You've got tricks, Graves," the man growled. "But tricks end when steel meets flesh."
Ethan's dagger—the same rusty blade from his first kill—gleamed faintly in his grip. Upgraded by the System, it now pulsed with a sinister red glow, hungry for blood.
"Funny," Ethan replied, smirking through his bruises. "That's exactly what I was thinking."
They clashed.
Steel shrieked against steel. Sparks lit the night. The wolf-mask fighter struck with brutal power, each swing heavy enough to cleave bone. Ethan moved with precision, parrying, twisting, countering with surgical strikes.
The alley became a cage match, every wall echoing with the clang of metal and the guttural sounds of men intent on killing.
The Killing Stroke
The wolf-mask's machete whistled down. Ethan sidestepped, his ribs screaming in protest, and drove the dagger upward. It pierced flesh.
The mercenary choked, blood flooding his mask.
Ethan twisted the blade. "Tell your masters: the hunter doesn't run."
The man collapsed, twitching once before going still.
The System's voice chimed coldly.
[Elite Target Eliminated!][Capital Points: +5,000][EXP: +12,000][Level Up: 12 → 15][Skill Unlocked: Hunter's Domain]
The world seemed to shudder around him. His aura flared, sharp and undeniable. In that moment, Ethan felt the leash of prey snap apart.
Revelation
The surviving mercenaries fled, terrified, but Ethan didn't chase. Instead, he knelt and stripped the mask from his fallen foe. Inside was not a nameless thug, but a tattooed face bearing the insignia of a hidden guild.
So that's it, Ethan thought, eyes narrowing. Not just bounty hunters. An organized syndicate. The black market's real claws.
The System flickered again, this time with a hidden prompt:
[Hidden Trigger Activated]Quest: The Syndicate's ShadowObjective: Trace the source of the Black Market contract.]Reward: Unknown (High-Tier).
Ethan exhaled, wiping blood from his blade. The trap had snapped shut, but the echoes promised bigger prey.
He looked up at the burning skyline, fire painting the clouds in crimson hues.
"They wanted a hunt," he murmured, his voice low, dangerous. "Now they'll get one."
Closing Scene
As he walked away, the System's new skill unfurled in his mind: Hunter's Domain—a passive ability that turned any battlefield into his territory, amplifying traps, strategies, and ambushes.
The irony made him grin. The syndicate thought they had crafted a perfect snare. Instead, they had sharpened their enemy.
Ethan Graves, once a nameless struggler, now carried a blood-soaked reputation and a new power that would shake the underground.
And somewhere, in the smoky halls of the black market's hidden council, unseen eyes watched the flames with keen interest.
"The prey adapts," a voice whispered. "The game has only just begun."