The night was dark. Unlike the city, there were no streetlights in these farmlands. The only light came from the half-moon, giving the empty fields a silver tinge. A cool breeze brought in the smell of fresh lake water.

Gale crouched behind the shadow of a tractor in the middle of the field, stalking the warehouse from afar, like a dark hunter that hid in the shadows, waiting to pounce at any given moment from where the enemies can’t find him.

[

…

Name: Gale Hathie

Race: Dainv

Core Class: Awakened

Core Density: 11.42/12

Core Attributes: [

Max Load: 100

Efficiency: 100

Essence: 98/200

]

Skills:

[Phase Touch Lv.3][Alter Lv.2][Distort Lv.3]

Passives:

[Breath of the Void Lv.2][Essence Control Lv.1][Dainv Combat Mastery Lv.1]

The run from Toronto all the way to Bowmanville had drained him. He’d used over half his essence getting here, sprinting through the shadows between the trees and back alley roads. Even almost tripped over a possum. Good thing the possum wasn’t hit.

“Guide,” he growled. “Use Breath of the Void to scan inside.”

[No thermal signatures detected within visual range. Structure appears vacant. Threat level: Minimal]

Gale nodded and moved forward, staying low. He reached the warehouse side door in seconds and tested the handle. Locked.

Option 1, break in loud and clear, point his Weber pistol and tell them all to put their hands up, the dark hunter is here.

Option 2, break in quietly by phasing his whole body and passing through the wall.

Weber blade materialized into his right hand. Phase Touch applied to the edge of the blade. The blade slowly sliced through the lock not making any sound. Option 1.5 was a go, break the lock like the dark hunter he was. Phasing through the walls didn’t seem as cool.

Inside, the warehouse stood empty. Just empty dust clouds floated through the air, visible only under the ray of moonlight from the window. A few empty pallets sat stacked in one corner. No dust, people, or any equipment that would make Breath of the Void’s tendrils tingle.

“Nothing,” Gale muttered, dematerializing the Weber blade back into the storage box.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The tendrils spread out through the whole area, pushing through the walls and feeding him back information about the whole space.

Four distinct signatures pulsed about half a kilometre away. Three awakened signatures. One attuned. Four in total. He could probably take them.

“The dark hunter always finds his prey,” Gale whispered a growl to himself in the empty warehouse.

Stepping out the warehouse, he ran through the field. The farmhouse soon came into view, sitting between two hills and maple trees all around it. In front of the house, a pickup truck and two sedans parked in the gravel driveway. Yellow light came from the windows behind the white curtains.

Gale moved through the shadows of each maple tree even though it was night. He reached the back of the farmhouse and peeked through the open crack of the window.

“…not fucking around,” a man said with a trembling voice. “Jackie and Liam got hit hard. Jackie’s still in medical.”

“By one guy?” another voice said. “They’re both attuned. No way.”

“Believe what you want,” the first voice replied. “Spotlight said to keep an eye out. Be careful.”

“Jackie said watch out for the boogeyman,” a third voice mocked. “Sounds like she screwed up and needs an excuse.”

“Idiot, she said ‘the hunter,’ whatever that meant,” the second voice said.

“I’ve known Jackie three years, guys,” the first voice said. “She doesn’t scare easily. Whatever hit them wasn’t normal.”

Looks like there was another one hunting these guys. He wasn’t the only vigilante in this world after all. In a world where magic, guns, and stuck-up knights coexisted, dark vigilantes roamed to protect the citizens.

Gale peeked his head over the window. Four men sat around the wooden circle coffee table covered in what looked like paper maps. Empty beer cans littered the surface. A stack of cash sat on the stand beside the couch with an open laptop.

The one with the loudest voice was the one defending Jackie. The man had a tattoo on his neck of a snake. Unlike his exterior appearance, he fidgeted around, eyes darting everywhere like something was about to strike him. The others were much more relaxed. One was bald with a shiny gold watch. He even had his leg crossed over like he owned the place.

“Look, Morris,” said the bald man, “I did two years with Division 16 before I went private. I’ve taken down spectral entities that would make your hair fall out. If this ‘hunter’ shows up, I’ll handle it myself.”

He made air quotes around the word “hunter” and grinned at the others. This hunter they’re talking about must’ve been pretty weak if a goon like this could take him down.

“You weren’t there, Dawson,” Morris shook his head. “Jackie said he moved like nothing she’d seen before. Exploding her marble like a firecracker.”

“Marbles are my specialty,” Dawson replied, tapping the side of his nose. “I’ve got three different marbles that’ll stop anything short of a tank shell.”

The others laughed, but Morris stayed serious. “Spotlight doesn’t send warnings for nothing. The Path is on high alert too.”

“The Path,” Dawson snorted. “Bunch of bureaucrats with guns. I left for a reason.”

“You left because they caught you skimming,” said one of the others.

“Details,” Dawson smirked. “The point is, I can handle myself. We’re not cancelling tomorrow’s shipment because of some ghost story.”

As Morris opened his mouth, Dawson held his hand out to cut him off and continued. “Besides, what kind of glory hound goes after dust dealers? The United Knights don’t care, and the Path only shows up if we make too much noise. We keep it quiet, we stay invisible.”

“Jackie wasn’t being loud,” Morris insisted. “She was just making a regular pickup.”

“Then she got sloppy,” Dawson shrugged. “Or someone ratted. Either way, not our problem.”

Dawson was ex-Path. Makes sense, and even more reason to take down this fool. From his signature, early Attuned, and that cockiness was going to be his maker.

Suddenly, Gale’s phone vibrated in his pocket. Holy shit no! The buzz sounded like a scream in his ears in his heightened state.

Morris froze mid-sentence, head turning toward the window. “What was that?”

“What was what?” one of the others asked.

“I heard something.” Morris stood up, looking around the room. “Like… I don’t know, man. It’s just like, uh, Déjà vu or something.”

Dawson rolled his eyes. “You’re jumpy as hell tonight, Morris. Sit down.”

“No, I felt it too,” said the third man with a patchy beard and lanky arms. “Like a vibration.”

“Could be someone’s phone.” Dawson pulled out his own phone, checking the screen. “Any of you guys get a message from someone? Harry, you get anything?”

Gale moved back from the window, tapping on the mute button. The lock screen message preview showed Ollie’s message.

[Ollie: Status update?]

“Yeah, actually. Just now.” Harry pulled out his phone.

“From who?” Morris asked, still standing.

“One of Spotlight’s messengers.” Harry swiped through his phone, brows furrowed. “About next week.”

Dawson leaned forward. “What’s it say?”

“12:32 sharp at the airport,” Harry read from the screen. “Handover will be at a box located behind the private hangar with the red cross.”

“Specific timing,” the fourth man commented.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“That’s new.” Morris finally sat back down. “Usually they just say ‘midnight’ or whatever, and usually it’s one of the higher ups textin’.”

Dawson’s fingers tapped thrice on the coffee table. “Why’s this messenger texting you directly, Harry? You buddy buddies or something?”

“Yeah,” Morris said. “How are you so close to that messenger guy? Guy’s a complete freak.”

Harry put his phone into his back pocket and sighed. “We go way back. Used to run jobs for Lady Mercer together before she got herself killed.”

“The Path assassin?” Dawson whistled. “No shit.”

“Yeah. He was her tech guy, I was muscle. After she died, he landed with Spotlight somehow.” Harry said. “We still grab drinks sometimes.”

“Didn’t know Spotlight’s people had social lives,” Morris muttered.

“They don’t, usually.” Harry grabbed another beer from the six-pack on the floor. “This guy’s different. Tries to seem normal and that made him even weirder.”

Gale moved closer, pressing himself against the wall. Lady Mercer was a new name. Too many names to remember these days. Back then, all he had to remember was the names of animals. That was much easier than remembering people’s names.

“What’s he look like?” asked the fourth man.

“Average. Brown hair. Wears those fancy blue glasses all the time.” Harry picked up a beer from the cooler beside the coffee table and popped the tab. “Says they help him read ether signatures or some shit.”

Dawson snorted. “Tech nerds and their toys.”

“Hey, those toys keep us alive,” Harry said.

“We should move this shit to the warehouse,” Morris said, gathering the papers on the table. “Nobody comes out here except local farmers.”

“Relax,” Dawson waved him off. “We’ve been using this spot for months. Nobody’s found us yet.”

Gale’s phone lit up, its light poking out of his jeans, this time not vibrating. He pulled it out slowly and read the notification.

Mia.

He swiped open the message.

[Mia: After everything I saw, I’m convinced all those grainy paranormal videos on YouTube are REAL. The worse the quality, the more authentic it probably is]

Two more messages entered the group chat.

[Jacob: OMG YES!!! I’ve been saying this for years!!! Nobody believed me]

[Andrew: Makes sense. If Aur people don’t want to be spotted, they’d mess with electronics]

[Mia: We should check out that abandoned high school next weekend. Place has been empty since 2008]

[Jacob: I’m in if Andrew brings his taser again]

[Andrew: One monster hunt was enough. But fine, I’ll bring it]

Gale shook his head. These guys were going to get themselves in trouble one of these days. He tapped out of the group chat and found Ollie’s contact card, tapping it to open the messages.

[Gale: Found connection to Spotlight. One of these guys knows a messenger personally. Blue glasses, tech background, worked for Lady Mercer. Going in now]

He pressed send, not waiting for a reply, and put the phone back into his pocket.

Gale circled to the front of the farmhouse. Paint peeling everywhere, no front porch light. Just the incandescent bulbs’ lights from inside spilled out of the windows. He messed up his hair, hunched his shoulder, and pulled his hoodie over his head. Looking down at himself, stained gray shirt, baggy black hoodie, baggy pants. He looked completely like a teenager. Perfect disguise for the Dark Hunter of the night that chases the criminals that lurk in Toronto’s abyss, even though this was Bowmanville.

Walking up to the front porch, he climbed up the three steps quietly, not making a creak. He knocked on the door three times and called out with a slightly higher pitch, “Anybody here?”

Inside, the guys shuffled around, standing up. Chairs scraped as they whispered to each other. Footsteps approached the front door.

The door opened a crack. Morris looked out, hand hidden behind the door where a weapon probably waited.

“The hell?” Morris squinted at him.

Gale blinked rapidly, voice cracking. “Sorry, I’m lost and been walking down the road for a while. My phone’s dead. Could I use yours to call my mom to pick me up?”

The door opened wider. Morris looked back at the others inside while a smile formed on his face. Yeah, that’s it, idiot. The dark hunter hunts using its brain, not brawn.

“Kid, how’d you get out here? You took a car or somethin’ or what?”

Gale rubbed his arms, pretending to be cold from the autumn’s chilly night. “I was out biking and I broke my bike, so I just walked. Been walking for hours.”

Behind Morris, the other three men stared. Dawson leaned back in his chair, laughing.

“Some lost puppy you found, Morris,” he called out. “Let him in before he freezes.”

“Come on in, but make it quick. Landline’s over there.” Morris stepped back slowly, pointing at the phone on the sofa stand.

Gale walked inside, keeping his head down, pretending to be a scared teenager. Beer, cigarettes, and probably a bit of mould. Typical bad guy behaviour that never cleans their homes. On the table, the paper map showed red highlighter marks on where dust activity happened, similar to the map Rachel and Ollie had shown him.

“Thanks,” he mumbled. “Just need to call my mom.”

The men laughed. Harry elbowed the fourth man, both grinning.

“Shit, he looks like he’s in high school, can he even drive?” Harry laughed.

Dawson smirked, spinning a marble between his fingers. “Probably ran away from mommy. What’s wrong, kid? Curfew too early?”

Gale took three more steps into the room. First, take out Dawson, then Morris. The others, threat level: minimal.

“Something like that,” he said.

Then he moved.

Not walked. Not ran. Moved.

One moment standing by the door, the next across the room.

Dawson’s eyes widened before Gale’s fist hit his temple. The chair tipped backward. Dawson crashed to the floor, the marble rolling from his limp fingers.

The others froze.

Gale kicked Dawson’s marble across the room.

“What the f-” Morris reached for his gun.

Gale’s hand immediately grabbed his wrist, stopping him from pulling it out. “Don’t.”

Morris gasped as his wrist crunched under Gale’s grip, and the gun fell onto the floor.

Harry and the fourth man raised their hands instantly.

“Ok ok, easy,” Harry said, eyes moving between Gale and the unconscious Dawson. “Just don’t break anything else.”

Gale released Morris, who held his wrist against his chest.

“Jesus,” the fourth man whispered. “Is this the guy Jackie was talking about?”

Morris backed away, wincing and rubbing his wrist. “Has to be. What great fucking luck.”

Gale kicked out a chair and sat at the table, looking relaxed. He opened his legs wide and breathed three times.

“Let’s talk about Spotlight,” he forced a gravelly voice, only to cough for a straight minute. Ok, enough with this stupid voice.

He took out one of the bottles in the cooler, popped the tab open, and took a sip, forgetting it was beer. Before the liquid reached his throat, he spit it out onto Dawson’s unconscious body. How do adults even drink this shit? It tasted like moose pee. Had to even track one out in the winter, licking the ground to track it.

Putting down the beer bottle, he looked back at the trio, somehow now shivering even more though they were inside. He continued, “and this messenger with the blue glasses.”

Harry swallowed hard. “I don’t know much—”

“Lying isn’t a good start.” Gale picked up one of the maps, pointing at the red dots scattered all over. “You just said you grab drinks with him.”

The men exchanged glances, nodding to each other. Dawson on the floor groaned but remained unconscious.

“Move him to the couch,” Gale ordered, nodding at Dawson.

Harry and the fourth man hurried to obey, dragging Dawson to the worn leather couch against the wall. Morris remained standing, still holding his wrist.

“Sit,” Gale said.

Morris sat.

Gale tapped the table. “Now, tell me everything about this messenger. And don’t waste my time, capiche?”

Harry cleared his throat. “His name’s Vic. Victor Wang. Been working for Spotlight about three years now.”

“How often do you meet?”

“Once a month. Just drinks and catching up, nothing business.”

“Except he texts you about shipments,” Gale’s eyes narrowed.

Harry flinched.

“And gives you specific times, specific locations.”

“Look,” Morris said. “We’re just middlemen. We move product, collect cash, follow orders. We don’t know what Spotlight looks like or where they operate from.”

Gale leaned forward. “But Victor does.”

The fourth man nodded. “Victor’s inner circle. One of maybe five people who deal directly with Spotlight.”

“Names,” Gale slammed the table. “And I better hear five.”

“I only know three for sure,” Harry said quickly. “Victor Wang, Thomas Drake, and Samantha Campbell. The others, I’ve just heard code names. Hound and Needle.”

Gale pulled out his phone and typed the names into his notes. “And Lady Mercer? What’s her connection?”

“She’s dead,” Morris said. “Path took her out four years back. She was running ether-tech theft operations across Ontario.”

“Victor was her tech specialist,” Harry said. “He got scooped up by Spotlight after she died.”

“Where can I find Victor?”

Harry hesitated, eyes moving to his companions.

“If I have to ask again,” Gale said, “I’ll wake up Dawson and see if he’s more helpful.”

“He lives in Oshawa,” Harry mumbled. “Has an apartment above Laplace’s Bar on Simcoe. Unit 3C.”

“And the shipment? What’s really coming in?”

The men exchanged looks again.

“It’s not just dust,” Morris finally said. “There’s tech too. Specialized ether-containment units. Mystic grade stuff.”

“For what?”

“Don’t know,” Morris shook his head. “We just move it.”

Breath of the Void’s tendrils seeped into each of the three’s hearts. Apart from the heightened heart rates, the rhythm was stable. They weren’t lying. Just small town goons that were part of Spotlight’s evil operations.

He stood up. “If I find out you’ve warned Victor, I’ll come back. And next time, I won’t be so gentle.”

He moved toward the door, picking up Dawson’s marble from the floor as he passed.

“Wait,” Harry said. “Who are you with? Path? Knights?”

Gale paused at the door, looking back at the three frightened men who took a step back every time he glanced at them, along with the unconscious Dawson covered in beer.

“I’m the guy Jackie warned you about,” he said, forcing a gravelly voice. “the dark hunter.”

Distort activated. Gale became nigh invisible as he disappeared from their view. Goddamn, that was a great one liner disappearing act.

After running for a few minutes, Gale pulled his phone back up.

[Ollie: Details?]

[Gale: Got names. Victor Wang, Thomas Drake, Samantha Campbell. Plus two more, only nicknames. Hound and Needle. Victor in Oshawa above Laplace’s Bar, Unit 3C. Shipment next week includes ether-containment tech.]

[Ollie: Take a rest for today. You did good. You’re joining the attack team at the airport next week. I’ll send you location details before then.]

He pocketed the phone and started sprinting east. Taking out the grey marble, he examined it. Ollie in the Eclipsed said these things cost as much as cars.

Analyze.

[Grey Marble]

[Type: Defensive Artifact]

[Usage: 2 ether per second]

[Max Load: 200 Ethers per tick.]

[Description: Orbits around user, blocking projectiles and detecting oncoming hostile spells.]

[Function 1: Glows red when harmful substance is in range and negates said substance.]

The phone’s screen lit up again with a notification from Mia.

[Mia: Also heard some kids getting scared at Old Finch Bridge. When we going guys?]

Gale shook his head, dematerializing the grey marble into the storage box. He continued to sprint through the dark roads of Ontario.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep