“What is this shit?” Kim asked, holding up a brown and maroon codpiece larger than Chase’s head. It looked like something a Shakespearean noble might wear.

“That’s…well, maybe just put it back and go onto the next one. I don’t like that colour anyway.”

They’d been sorting through armours for nearly an hour, segmenting and categorising each into various categories depending on their strengths. It was hard to narrow it down, because each armour would be advantageous in some situations, and lacking in others. There were only a few that they’d binned outright — mainly just armours that specialised in one singular stat and nothing else.

“Thoughts on [Malworth’s Creation]?” Chase asked, holding up the chestplate from a suit of light armour. “It’s about mid-range for everything, but lower overall stats cause it’s only twenty-five thou’.”

Kim whistled as she mulled it over. “Not bad. Looks a bit like my pyjama top, but if you say it’s got good stats…” She shrugged. “Has it got more stats than the [Autumnwalker’s Garments]?”

“No, but that one’s forty-two big ones.”

“Jenny gave you the money, man. Spend it.”

Chase clicked his teeth together and held out the two frontrunners. On one hand, the cheaper armour was better value for the stats it gave, and it would allow him some Credits leftover to buy a beefy new weapon, but if it wasn’t good enough, he might well be back in a month spending another fifty thousand anyway. He wished Enro could scrape together some data and tell him which would be the better choice. Unfortunately, there weren’t many Hunters like him to model his recommendation off.

He pulled up the information for the next set of armour. It looked daunting — ultra-thin plates of matte black metal covered the chest and back, and strips of the same material criss-crossed over and around the shoulders in a lattice. It was open on the inside of the arm and in the space below his armpit, which would help when holding and firing a weapon. He’d had to veto some really solid choices purely because they were too bulbous around the shoulder, or the vambraces were so thick they’d destabilize his grip on his weapons.

{Night King’s Garb} (Grade S)

Arcanist’s Notes: No amendments required — item has been fully preserved as at Time Of Raid. No durability loss, enchantments stable.

* Speed (+4.2)

* Agility (+2.1)

* Magical Defence (+6)

* Physical Defence (+5.3)

Holy crap.

He snapped his fingers, because his voice wasn’t working. “Kim. Hey, Kim, I’ve found a gem.”

She looked over, raising her eyes. “Goodness. You’d blend into the shadows of any cavern with that beast. Gothic, man. Any good?”

“It’s amazing.” He read over the stats again, marvelling at the Defence especially. He’d have to learn to control the Agility considering the mismatch with its Speed, but other than that…

“How much?” Kim asked.

Chase knew that question was coming, but he dreaded answering it. There was no way an armour this perfect would have any breathing room in its price tag. Sure enough, a quick glance at the number took the air from his lungs.

“Bang on fifty-thousand Credits. Holy crap, that’s a lot of money now that I’m actually thinking of spending it. Basically a whole year’s work at Majesty.”

Putting it like that made him feel worse, so he tried to think of it as an investment. Having armour this good would absolutely cement him as an A-Rank, if not snapping at the heels of S-Rank, and not just in terms of his damage output. Superhuman speed, and the ability to tank a hit or two without being blasted into smithereens…he could walk through a Sweep Team Raid with his eyes closed and let the Echin have at him.

“Jenny wouldn’t have given you fifty grand if she didn’t mean fifty grand.”

Chase scratched at his chin as if he had a beard to scratch. It was supposed to be wistful. “But maybe it’s a test, you know? Like Jenny’s giving me a longer leash just to see how far I run. Seeing how much I can be trusted with access to the Treasury.”

Kim laughed and handed him a top-up of champagne. It was starting to lose its bubbles, but it still fizzed a bit when she dunked a quartered strawberry into the glass. “You’re the Guild Leader, remember? I know you like to be modest and pretend that Jenny is running the show, but it’s really you. It’s your Treasury. You think Raymond Everington knows the intricacies of his guild’s finances and who’s dating who at the Titans office? No. He uses the guild like an extension of himself, because he built it and strengthened it with his own blood, sweat and tears. Just like you. Buy the armour, Chase.”

He checked back over the stats on the {Night King’s Garb}. They really were on another level — he felt like increasing the price filter just to see what other insane armours Jester’s Lounge had on offer. Then again, he’d probably spend all day fantasising about them and the {Night King’s Garb} would lose some of its lustre.

If such a thing was possible.

“Alright, I’ll do it. Pass me that glass of bubbly and we’ll cheers to it.”

Kim handed it over and they both took a sip. “Should we christen it like a boat? Pour champagne all over it?”

Chase laughed. “I’ve got a better idea.”

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*******

Ballistic’s newest Hunters stood in a semi-circle outside a twelve-metre Gate in Six Town, watching their Guild Leader pace back and forth in front of them. Chase was extolling the capabilities of the more experienced Hunters standing around them, assuring them that nothing would go wrong if they kept their cool and followed orders. The other Hunters — David, Jamie, Marcus and Mia — stood outside the circle, watching the new recruits like drill sergeants. Of the twenty new Hunters, eight were Talentless and twelve were not. Even the ones who’d been deemed as B-Ranks or A-Ranks did not dream of disobeying any of their superiors, including David, whose adept use of his Talent had not gone unnoticed.

In fact, the coverage that the news caught of him had resulted in the C-Rank gaining somewhat of a cult following. No one loved an underdog more than the millions of Hunters who felt they’d had a great injustice done to them upon receiving underwhelming power ratings.

To see one of their own kind prospering even amongst A-Ranks was a great motivator.

“Alright, people, in we go!”

Mia, Jamie and Chase entered the Gate first, scouting out the entrance. They’d take out any immediate threats and pave the way for David, Marcus and the recruits.

In reality, this was a benchmarking test for Chase, and an opportunity to show the new recruits what they could achieve someday if they stuck with the guild and worked hard.

But they didn’t have to know that.

The Gate opened into a fairly standard, wide cavern. It was a common layout, and at this point Chase and the others had spent so much time in Dungeons like these that they’d forgotten the initial shock of stepping from the fresh air of the real world into the dank, almost plastic-scented air of a Dungeon. Luckily, none of the recruits freaked out — it took a certain kind of person to be a Hunter, and they’d sifted the wheat from the chaff during the interview and assessment stages of their hiring process.

Chase went off like a rocket, bolting ahead of the others into the first room. He couldn’t use his Speed to its fullest extent, but he was still running circles around the monsters, peppering them with staggered sprays from his MP7. After experiencing the horrific manifestations of the Two City Disaster, taking these down was like swatting flies, or stepping on a cockroach.

He dashed into the second room, leaving the recruits slack jawed and his normal Hunters jogging after him. Marcus growled a warning, something about ‘making use of his Tanks,’ but Chase was having too much fun. This wasn’t like the event a while before when he’d gotten trigger-happy with his fresh Beretta and ended up eating the dirt — his victory this time was all but assured.

Elation and adrenaline coursed through his veins as he tore through the Dungeon. When he began this journey, power like this was the epitome of his ambition. Now, with all that had happened, it felt like he’d just left the starting line, and he couldn’t have been more eager to give the race every ounce of willpower he had.

Not for the sake of beating Nebula, or entering Sanabria’s clique of Ultra-Hunters, not even to impress Kim.

This was just for him.

Chase Mendleton, Guild Leader and Talentless Hunter.

Bringer of Death, Destroyer of Worlds, Scourge of Gates? One day.

After having his fill of mindless destruction, he let his other Hunters take over for a while. Jamie seemed to discover a new spell every time Chase saw him, meanwhile Mia and Marcus worked together with such efficiency that they may as well have been holding the same shield. Sometimes, these easier Raids were the perfect opportunity to hone and improve their techniques and strategies. If one of the Tanks tried a new move and mis-stepped, the punishment was not nearly as severe. A slap at the wrist at most. If Jamie messed up his spell, he usually had time for another. And if Chase missed his shot, well, he’d had a lot of practice dealing with that conundrum.

Too much.

His issue with accuracy was already front of mind when they entered the boss room. It was pentagonal, with a thin, glowing pillar in the centre of the space. Through diamond-shaped holes, the pillar threw amber light from some type of internal fuel, casting eerie shadows over the smooth dirt floor. The recruits were watching from a safe distance, with Mia and Marcus guarding them.

This one was all for Chase.

He started by firing two shots from his Beretta into the dark corners at the back of the room. Sure enough, a creature unfolded itself from the shadows, called from its slumber by the noise and danger. If he was being truly pedantic, he probably could’ve rushed forward and ended it in a flurry of bullets.

But he wanted to have some fun. Jamie and David were on standby, ready to destroy the boss if it showed even a hint of resistance.

It wouldn’t.

Chase circled the boss, stepping in close so as to goad it into an attack. It swiped at him with a clawed hand cloaked in shifting black shadows, and he easily avoided it with a single backstep. Then it lunged, and he dashed sideways with little more effort than it took to dodge another pedestrian on the sidewalk.

This is unbelievable. Talented people live like this?

He had to correct himself: some Talented people had abilities like these. Others were comparable to Talentless people, their base stats being embellished in different ways. There was a rumour of an A-Ranked Hunter in Germany who’d only received points toward her Intelligence upon being granted her Talent.

To avoid getting too side-tracked during his one-sided fight, Chase lifted his Beretta and fired a single shot at his opponent. It slammed into the rear wall of the Dungeon, missing the boss by a couple centimetres.

Oh well.

He fell into step with the beast once again, swooping in as it retreated to the shadows or darting backwards once he had it angered. Soon, though, he found himself bored of the battle. For a moment, he wished he could experience the Two City Disaster once again, just to test his mettle against some sturdier opponents.

That was a very, very brief moment.

Deciding to stop toying with his food, he put a good distance between himself and brought up his Beretta once more.

He fired at its stomach.

Missed.

He fired at its head.

Missed.

In anger, he sent another five bullets in its general direction.

The monster’s arm was torn off by one projectile, but that was it.

“Chase? You need a hand?” Jamie asked.

“No,” Chase replied. He couldn’t stop a note of annoyance from entering his tone. This issue had plagued him for months, but he’d never had the time to remedy it with proper, dedicated practice.

In the end, he brought out the MP7 and emptied half a magazine into the boss. This time, he didn’t miss.

He stormed back to Jamie and David, not even bothering to check the boss’s rewards. His dissatisfaction with his aim had finally reached its boiling point. The joy he’d felt from crashing through everything in his new armour was dull, soured by this hole in his prowess.

“Man, are you alright? Who shat in your cereal?” David stepped past Chase to grab the loot. He clearly didn’t appreciate being relegated to the position of Courier.

Chase took a deep breath before facing him. He was unintentionally taking it out on his guildmates.

“Sorry, David. I’ve just gotta fix up this shitty aim of mine. It pisses me off so much, cause I use these guns almost every day but I just…I don’t seem to be getting better. Not like you guys.”

Jamie clapped him on the shoulder. He had a grey spell ready — some sort of tornado — but it dissipated into the dust in a series of smaller twisters. “You’ll get there, man. What’s the plan? Shoot more bad guys?”

Chase chewed his lip as they walked back to the recruits.

“I was thinking I might head back to the range.”