20XX Post-Incursion, Somewhere in the outskirts of Las Vegas, Nevada.
The Youth glared at the device on his arm, hoping that just by being angry enough the number of his account would be higher. But alas, the number stayed uncomfortably low. With a huff, he let his arm droop to his side; coming to terms with the fact that he was broke. He had enough to buy food and maybe one magazine’s worth of 9mm if he cheaped out and tried to load it himself. There were only level twos and threes in the area and even if he could hunt one down he’d have to beat the multitude of other eager hunters like himself to the punch. Grunting in annoyance as he kicked an empty can as he started down the street giving a longing glance to the genuine 1911 he was looking at before he checked his funds. He was lost in his thoughts as a bird landed on his shoulder. A scrappy sparrow.
“What you got for me buddy?” he asked as he looked ahead, not concerned he looked like some hobo pirate with a gun strapped to his leg. The bird tweeted into his ear, and he smirked a bit. “That so? Well lead the way, might be able to afford something other than the cheapo menu tonight.” the bird flew off, the Youth running after, drawing his Browning Hi-Power.
As he ran, he checked the magazine. The counting holes indicated he was still on the better side of halfway full in it, that was one bit of good news at least. Ramming it back in; he racked the slide. Keeping his finger safely off the trigger as he kept a combat pace. Soon he heard the commotion his companion was leading him to. He reached to the jury-rigged helmet sub system strapped to his head and slid the old encased visor over his eye. The screen flashed its HUD as it lit up.
Scanning mode active.
The small device on his arm the visor was wired to gave a soft vibration as it kicked on. Letting him know that there was indeed a Daemon in the area. This part of the city was nearly empty due to the stay indoor order with the day’s daemon rush hour. Being so close to the Death Valley Incursion zone allowed daemons to materialize almost without warning save a sudden darkening of the area like a thick cloud blotted out the sun for a moment. He turned the corner to catch sight of his prey, a daemon that had taken the form of a dire wolf-sized panther clawing a locked and barred door. A higher level two, mid-level three if it had any tricks outside of claws. With a smirk he drew a bead with his gun, putting a round through the beast’s leg before it could acknowledge him. “Hey, beastie! Guess what? You’re my payday!” he shouted as he shot again, putting the round through the shoulder as the daemon howled, starting to charge at him from its end of the street.
The Youth smirked wildly, putting more shots into it; his bullets doing nothing to slow it down as it regenerated the minor wounds. It was turning out to be a tougher level three than he’d hoped. He leaped back, keeping the bead on the target, he would kill it with this shot, or he would need to fall back onto his trump card. “Fuck you!” he yelled as he pulled the trigger. The shot rang out, but instead of his; the beast was thrown to the side from its leap as a large-bore shotgun tore into it, making bright flashes as the shots exploded to rip golf ball-sized chunks out of the daemon’s side. He landed with a thud on his rear, his shot hitting nothing but thin air as he looked to the side. The corpse of the beast now starting to dissolve as its body gave out. Gritting his teeth, he tossed his head the other way, biting out a complaint. “Asshole! That was my kill!”
The third party, a man in riding leathers, head obscured by a fully enclosed helmet, now resting his shotgun over his shoulder, checking his Hunter’s Companion on his arm, laughed. “Too bad, kid, maybe next time. Thanks for the assist though.” saying over his shoulder as he strutted down the street, just another day in this new world for him.
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The Youth groaned as he checked his own device. Receiving a reduced bounty for ‘assistance’ rather than the full kill. “Fucking kill stealing asshole.” He muttered as he picked himself up and dusted himself off. Not dwelling on it as he holstered his gun and stuck his hands in his pockets as he started back down the street to the local hunter’s chapter. The bird from earlier perched back on his shoulder and tweeting in his ear. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll catch a break soon, got most of the amount anyway, just gotta be happy with cheap burgers again.” Upon speaking, his stomach started growling.
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Local Hunter chapter outpost
The Youth tossed the wrapper of the burger he as just finished behind his back as he strode through the double doors of his current residency. The chapter outpost was a modest building, more akin to a homeless shelter for armed wannabe cowboys with nothing but the gun on their hip and a pocket full of bills. In the proximity of Death Valley, the main daemonic entry in the states, the surrounding cities were hotspots for would-be mercs and thrill-seekers looking for a quick payday and glory. He gave a nod to the little old lady manning the commissary; who perked on seeing him walk in. “Eventful hunting today sonny?” she asked as she put a card reader front and center of her counter, knowing he wanted to buy something; as was his habit.
The Youth laughed and shook his head, brushing off the bird on his shoulder as it flew up to the rafters into its makeshift nest. “Nah Granny, some assholes kept stealing my kills. I need some more Red Labels,” he said, pointing to one of the cheaper boxes that were on her shelf like it was a pack of cigarettes.
The old woman chuckled as she rang up the price and turned to grab the box from her inventory. “You need to stop buying these, they’re little better than target ammo you know.” she chimed as she placed the box down as he slotted his card into her reader. “What about the Gold Labels you bought last month?”
The Youth rubbed his head with an irritable face, plucking his card from the reader as it was approved, and grabbed the box of ammo. “Saving it for something worth the cost; didn’t realize the place only got shitty targets. The biggest thing that came in was a fiver, and every asshole on the block was on that thing like flies on shit.” Shoving the box of ammo into one of his pants' oversized thigh pockets, he leaned against the counter, looking over the rest of her stock. “I need to save up for a convoy fare outta this dump, too many small timers. With how much ammo costs, we’re all gonna end up on the streets with barely any cash to feed ourselves; let alone afford daemon killers.”
The old woman giggled as she dug around under her counter. “Oh, don’t I hear that all the time. But I wouldn’t disagree with that. The more established Hunters are edging you youngin’s out a bit. Apparently, there’s gonna be a big operation soon. That’s why all the big names and groups are gathering. Looks like another crack at reclaiming Pahrump for a staging ground.” she said, eliciting a groan from the Youth, seeing him rub his face.
“Fuck...that explains a lot. Really hopin’ that convoy would just be passin’ through.” he tapped his foot, referring to the large gathering of heavy vehicles and tanks that had set up on the outskirts. The Youth was running a hand through his thick dark hair as he pondered, he needed to get out of the city, too many cooks spoil the soup after all and it was cutting into his bottom line. On top of not wanting to get involved in something of this scale again. He needed a golden goose, a place that had little or no other Hunters operating in the area that had daemons that were profitable to go after. Unfortunately, such places were usually death traps, since it meant there was no backup when the bigger daemons eventually came around. For as individualistic people were nowadays, the need for mutual cooperation was stronger than before. He was about to turn in for the night just as he heard a slapping of a hand on the counter. Looking over, he saw a pamphlet on the counter with the old lady looking at him.
“I might just have the thing for you,” she said, opening the pamphlet and letting him read. “There’s been a special program that’s just been approved by Hunter HQ. Might be right up the alley of a young blood like you.” Chuckling as she saw the gears turn in the Youth’s head, seeing the cocky smirk that’d been characteristic of his form. “You got that right, Granny, this seems like just the thing I was lookin’ fer...”