Hunt In Reverse

Based on my assessment, the First Realm is divided into four distinct stages. Golden Chief, despite its formidable strength, was merely at the first stage. After I filled three of my twelve chambers, I was already at the peak of this level. Five chambers granted me nearly twice Golden Chief's essence reserve.

Yet, even with this advantage, the battle was far from effortless. The reason was clear: I lacked the magical prowess of my opponent. Against its potent defenses, my superior strength and energy reserves were barely enough to secure victory.

A sigh escaped my lips. While a vast reservoir of energy was essential, it was best to have a few tricks up my sleeve. The three martial arts techniques passed down by H.A.R.M., while effective against lesser vamps, proved inadequate against a truly formidable adversary like Golden Chief.

Turning around, I saw that Wade and the villagers had already filled the truck bed with a grotesque cargo. The sheer number of bodies had forced them to settle for just the heads, which still formed a grisly mound.

"What are you going to do with these?" Wade asked, his voice laced with curiosity and a hint of unease.

"Back to the city," I replied, climbing into the passenger seat. Wade followed suit, steering the pickup onto the narrow country road.

The events in Tukwila had been a stark awakening. It was not as easy as I thought to gain a good reputation and join H.A.R.M.

The higher-ups wouldn't stand idly by while I threatened their plans.

A break must be made.

... ...

As dusk settled over Pinewood County, street vendors hastily packed up their wares, while a group of bored soldiers yawned as they guarded the county gate.

A putrid odor wafted through the air, causing the soldiers to instinctively cover their noses and mouths. The vendors, sensing something amiss, turned their heads towards the gate. Their eyes widened in horror as a pickup truck emerged from the gloom, its bed piled high with grotesque jackal heads.

The severed heads, frozen in expressions of terror and agony, were a gruesome sight. Blood matted their fur, hideous and vivid, with bloody mouths wide open.

"Monsters...monsters in the city!" a vendor shrieked, dropping his wares and scrambling away in panic, only stumbled and fall flat on his face.

The soldiers also became nervous in an instant and hurriedly grabbed their guns.

Wade, driving the truck, couldn't help but scoff. "Look at these cowards," he muttered. "Even the villagers weren't this afraid of a few dead bodies. They practically feasted on them."

As we entered the city, Wade slowed the truck. I rolled down the window, allowing the townfolk a clear view of my profile. My presence seemed to reassure them somewhat, but the overwhelming stench emanating from the truck bed quickly dispelled any sense of calm.

"Ser…Sergeant Kane?" a soldier stammered, his voice trembling, as others gawked in disbelief.

They recognized my face, but the transformation was undeniable. Gone was the swaggering bravado and lecherous grin, replaced by a stoic determination and an air of quiet authority.

"Damn monsters, still scaring folks even in death," the vendor muttered, picking himself up from the dirt, his eyes darting between me and the gruesome cargo. A wave of awe washed over him as he realized the extent of my actions. "Just how many of those beasts did he have to slay to soak his clothes like that?"

"Kane's a hero!" A young woman's voice, breathless with excitement, cut through the stunned silence. The crowd erupted in a thunderous roar, their cheers a tidal wave that swept through the street.

"Kane! Kane! Kane!" they chanted, their voices raw with adrenaline.

People surged forward, their faces etched with awe and gratitude. I'd become the center of a whirlwind, a spontaneous celebration of life and courage. Word of my daring rescue was already spreading like wildfire, carried on the wind of excited chatter. Soon, the whole town would know my name.

A reporter, drawn by the commotion, elbowed his way through the crowd. Raising his camera, he snapped a series of pictures, capturing Wade and I in the blood-soaked truck, forever immortalizing this triumphant return.

How long had it been since Pinewood County went out of the city to subdue beastvamps? Not to mention so many!

Wade, taking in the scene, grimaced, "The higher-ups won't be too thrilled about this."

He didn't quite understand why Sergeant Kane, who was always known for his "interpersonal skills", would suddenly act recklessly.

I met his gaze calmly. "Do I have a choice?"

"You can kill vamps, but no need to flaunt it," Wade mused. "With your skills, you could have a bright future in..."

His words trailed off as if a sudden realization struck him. The impending H.A.R.M. inspection loomed large, and presenting a peaceful facade was crucial to maintaining their power. But I had antagonized the vamps, and if push came to shove, who could guarantee they wouldn't sacrifice me to appease the monsters?

Wade must have understood the implications as well. If I waited for the apevamps and the remnants of the Golden Chief's pack to unite against me, my fate would rest in the hands of corrupt officials.

Instead, I had chosen a different path, a bold gambit to seize control of the narrative. By showcasing my strength and garnering public support, I had effectively shielded myself from their machinations. Under the scrutiny of H.A.R.M., who would dare silence the voices of over sixty thousand people?

"Damn," Wade muttered, respect dawning in his eyes. "Two days with you, and I feel smarter already."

He shook his head. Then, with a newfound confidence, he straightened his back, his posture mirroring my own.

A group of policemen stumbled out of a bar, propelled by the surging crowd.

"Are you blind?" Silas Bennett, swaying drunkenly, slurred, ready to lash out. "Damn it, who doesn't..."

His words caught in his throat as he saw Wade waving at the crowd. A flicker of surprise flashed across his face, quickly replaced by terror as he noticed the figure beside Wade.

"Kane...Kane..."

The bravado he'd displayed moments earlier evaporated. The sight of the grotesque cargo in the truck bed, a mountain of severed jackal heads crowned by the golden-furred visage of their leader, sent a shiver down his spine.

He stumbled backward, his face ashen, hands trembling as he covered his eyes.

Silas couldn't comprehend how Kane had returned alive. This news had to reach Sheriff Williams immediately.

He turned and fled, his legs wobbling as he ran, desperate to deliver the chilling message.

… …

The crowd dissipated as we pulled into the central police station. "Alright, take these to evidence," I instructed, stepping out of the truck. I stretched, trying to hide the weariness creeping into my eyes. After a quick stop at a local diner for a much-needed meal, I headed home, feeling exhausted.

Of all my battles thus far, this one had been the most draining. It wasn't just the physical exertion, but the immense expenditure of celestial essence that left me feeling as if I'd fallen from the heavens back to earth. The stark contrast was a jarring blow to my spirit.

Reaching my front door, I paused. To avoid seeing something I shouldn't, I reached out and knocked.

Before the door could fully open, a voice rang out, "Took you long enough! I'm famished!" Though weak, the voice was unmistakably feminine and melodious.

I pushed open the door and stepped inside, my eyes widening in surprise. The once chaotic and filthy dwelling had been transformed. The floors gleamed, the surfaces sparkled, and the air was filled with the scent of fresh linen.

Rose Hightower stood before me, her damp blonde hair cascading down her back. Her clean, delicate features were both striking and alluring. The determined set of her jaw, a testament to her warrior spirit, added unique charm to her beauty.

She wore one of my black shirts, oversized but somehow accentuating her lithe figure. Her pants, damp at the hems, revealed her round hips and slender legs. A pair of white, tender feet rested on the cool floor.

"I washed your clothes and uniform," she explained, a hint of assertiveness in her voice. "I'm borrowing yours for now."

Her gaze sharpened as a metallic scent of blood assaulted her nostrils. "Were you on duty, or did you take a bath in blood?"

Her nose twitched, her eyes narrowing. "Vamp blood?"

I didn't answer, merely placing a takeout bag on the table. "Make do with these for now." I gruffed.

Rose wisely chose not to press the matter. With a hungry gleam in her eyes, she opened the bag, her face lighting up as she discovered its contents.

"Oh! There's meat this time!" she exclaimed, plucking out a slice of brisket with a delighted squeal. She took a bite of the bread, a look of pure bliss spreading across her face. "This is delicious!"

"Does food always excite you this much?" I grumbled.

"Only those who haven't known hardship wouldn't appreciate a warm meal," Rose retorted, her words dripping with sarcasm. "Out in the wilderness, nobody cares if you starve."

Her remark left me speechless. The way she spoke made it seem as if she had been raised on the streets, while I was the pampered child of privilege.