My name is Jacob Perrywinkle, age 21. Last month I graduated from Sørensen Academy with a bachelor's degree in Journalism. Two weeks later I was hired by the Sørensen Gazette as a full-time journalist. In the interest of kicking off my new career with some pizzazz, I begged my editor, Ginnifer Novié, to give me a major scoop. She, in turn, told me about the thrilling world of professional monster hunting. Moreover, she personally knew a man with his own professional team named Günther Lockheart. He originally hailed from Sørensen and was a classmate of Ginnifer, yet he had long since moved beyond our shores in order to travel the world with his professional monster hunting team, which was called Six Mad Dogz & A Kat. However, it just so happened that he recently made contact with Ginnifer to entreat her to cover his groundbreaking expedition into the Kanabo desert to hunt the mysterious and deadly Kanabo Tigers from whom that country gets its name. Ginnifer had already planned on sending someone out to cover the story, and since I begged her ardently for the chance, the journalist whom she sent was none other than me.

Thus, I arrive in Danube, Tigre Kanabo bright and early on a Wednesday morning. Like a foreign tourist, I stroll into town swiveling my head back and forth taking in every little detail of the environment. The country of Kanabo is markedly different from Sørensen. First off, there's the weather. Kanabo is known for its desert climate. Here in town there's green vegetation like grass, shrubs, and trees that are fueled by a nearby river, but generally speaking, it's a nation of sand. The temperature, for its part, isn't too bad. The air is filled with a raw, dry heat. It isn't humid and unbearable like what one might find in a tropical climate, but it does make it very clear that water is a survival essential around here. Secondly, I notice the unusual form of the houses and buildings. These constructions are all made of a type of sun-dried brick known as adobe. Moreover, they're all square and rigidly shaped unlike the softer curved edges that one might find in more modern societies.

Yet the third and most prominent thing that I notice is the humble simplicity of the local people. Kanabo's denizens have tanned, sun-burnt faces that are lined with deep wrinkles and thick eyebrows and eyelashes. These features are necessary for adapting to the sandy air. Looking about, I see an elderly woman sitting in a chair in front of her house under a low, flat roof that serves as a sunscreen. Lost and in need of directions, I approach the woman to ask for some guidance.

"Excuse me ma'am," I begin, "Might you know where I could find a group of monster hunters?"

Without even thinking about it, she points her index finger towards the east. "Go that way and listen for the noise. Can't miss it."

It's an unusual description, but a useful one nonetheless. "Thank you ma'am."

Moving along, I shimmy down the street still swiveling my head to and fro in order to take in the scenery. Kanabo has a sort of ancient majesty to it. People have survived in this desert for millennia. Heaven knows how.

As I continue down the street, I hear an out-of-place ruckus. It's the tell-tale noise of a tavern piano melded with the loud, boisterous voices of drunken merrymakers. If ever there were a place for monster hunters to gather and share stories of successful hunts and old battle scars, then it would be a tavern. I don't know why I didn't think of that in the first place. That just comes to show how green I am as a journalist. But hey, in my defense, this is literally my first assignment out of office. Small oversights on my part are understandable.

Shifting, I head straight to the push-in corral doors of the tavern, take a deep breath, and then step inside. Right away, I'm hit by the audacious volume of the locale. The term "inside voice" means nothing to these people. There are men on the second-floor balcony shouting down to others on the first floor who shout back up to them. Those at the ground level sit around a collection of about twenty circular tables that are stationed ahead and to the right in an L-shape relative to the entrance. Not knowing how to distinguish my contact group from all of the others, I head for the bar to gather information.

Between the short distance from the door to the bar, I'm already interrupted by rude shenanigans. Out of nowhere, some guy leaps up, turns a somersault, and lands in front of me. Naturally, I step backwards due to surprise. Yet when the man bawls "boo!" others perceive this as a sign that he scared me. This triggers those nearby to burst into laughter at my expense. Call me crazy, but I'm beginning to think that this tavern is filled with a bunch of immature jackals.

Ignoring them as best as I can, I proceed to the tavern keeper who stands behind the bar counter. "Excuse me sir. I'm looking for a monster hunter named Günther Lockheart."

The tavern keeper flicks his chin towards one of the tables behind me. "He's the one with the thick armor and the even thicker mustache."

Fair enough. I pivot and head for my contact. "Mr. Lockheart? My name is Jacob Perrywinkle. I work for Ginnifer Novié."

"Ah yes," he answers, "Sit down lad."

I take a seat. Günther looks at me with a polite yet curious smile. I look at him in much the same way. He's a middle-aged man, perhaps in his early 40s. He has a thick brown mustache, thinning hair, and a solid, manly frame decked in steel plate armor from the neck down. Likewise, he has a companion who's even more strongly built than he. This second man has large, bulky muscles, and dark eyebrows that seem to perpetually droop into a scowl. He doesn't seem too nice, so I'll leave him alone.

"Mr. Lockheart, I'm here to learn more about your team and the fascinating world of monster hunting. Tell me, how would you describe professional monster hunting in a nutshell?"

He nods his head, reflecting before answering. I think he appreciates the fact that his words will take to written form in the journalistic article that I'm going to write about my experience today. I'm sure that he wants the impression the article makes of pro monster hunting to be a good one. Currently it has something of a controversial and dicey reputation. Largely because pro monster hunting is seen as the intersection where animal cruelty meets human sacrifice. Not that monsters are animals per se, nor are humans intentionally sacrificed to them. It's just that, more often than not, large groups of both end up getting slaughtered. Which more so than the other is anyone's guess.

Mr. Lockheart finally devises his answer. He says, "Monster hunting is a noble quest for riches, self-improvement, and glory."

Pleased by the well worded answer, I scribble it into my notepad verbatim. I then proceed with my next question. "Mr. Lockheart, what would you say tends to draw people to the profession?"

He answers, "Please, call me Günther. And as for your question, I think you'd get a more diversified impression if you met my entire team. They're all here in the tavern. I'll round them up for you, and then we'll be off to the desert. You can shadow us on a live monster hunt."

"Great," I reply. I would love the chance to see real monster hunting in action.

Günther nods and then rises from the table. Next, he moves to the man randomly performing acrobatics in the center of the floor. He places his hand on the man's shoulder and speaks a few words to him that I can't hear. In turn, the man nods his head and moves to the front of the tavern near the exit.

Continuing, Günther moves to a ranger at a table of men playing blackjack. When he whispers into this man's ear, he throws his cards upon the table and rises to his feet. He then joins the acrobat near the exit. From there, Günther proceeds to two more men and a young woman who looks to be in the middle of trying to drink her male companions under the table. Once Günther gathers at the front of the tavern with these five, he nods his head to the silent man who sits at the table with me.

The mute giant rises to his feet. "Come."

Not one to argue, I join him on a short stroll to the tavern's exit. It's then that I get a close up view of the monster hunting troupe known as the Six Mad Dogz & A Kat. I take it that the girl is Kat, but I'm not 100% on that.

Without warning, Günther suddenly unsheathes the sword at his waist. He points it into the air at a 45º angle and shouts, "Six Mad Dogz & A Kat, on the hunt!"

The tavern goers explode, "Be brave and fight smart!"

Günther continues, "Questing where treasure and glory be!"

The tavern goers respond, "Good luck and Godspeed!"

Günther follows, "And should we die on this hunt."

The tavern goers conclude, "Thy spirit find rest and eternal peace!"

With that, Günther sheathes his sword. He and his crew exit the tavern to the sound of applause and whistles. I smile, having found that unexpected exchange to be rather cool. I then follow behind them. Once we're outside, I ask the Mad Dog closest to me, "What was that just now?"

He answers, "That was the sending out chant. It's part of monster hunting tradition. Basically, it just shows the support of the community. That's all."

I throw my thumb over my shoulder. "All those people back there were monster hunters?"

"Most of them, yeah."

"Woah."

The group stops at a strange looking wagon. I'm not sure what it is. One member enters the coach and the others climb into the back. Not wanting to look like a rookie, I follow the crowd and climb into the back too. This section is fenced in from either side with black gates, its surface is flat, and there are two long cushions attached to its sidewalls. I sit on the left side, whereas Günther sits across from me on the right.

All of a sudden, the wagon moves despite not being attached to a horse. My body jerks strongly and I bellow a reactionary, "Woah!"

"Relax Jacob," Günther says. "This is a type of motorized carriage called a truck. Our very own Louis built it. He's the one steering it now. We use this vehicle to move to and from our hunting destinations quickly and with minimal effort on our part. It allows us to save our energy for fighting."

"Oh, I see. If I might ask, exactly how dangerous is the hunt today?"

The young man next to Günther stirs to attention. "Ah come on, what are you scared?"

"Should I be?"

He chuckles lightly and turns his head to the group's leader. "What's with this kid?"

"Be nice Hypervox," replies Günther , "This young man is a journalist from my home country. One of my old friends sent him to write an article about monster hunting."

Hypervox turns his attention back to me. "Is that right?"

Suddenly, the vehicle bumps violently. "Watch it Louis!" the female member hollers. She then peeks her shimmering garnet eyes at me. "So what have you written so far?"

I answer by reading from my notes, "Monster hunting is a noble quest for riches, self-improvement, and glory."

She cocks her head back and utters a full belly laugh. "D'you get that crap from Günther?"

Her biting question confuses me. It seemed like a reasonable answer to me. "Umm..."

"Monster hunting is all about the money baby. Jewels and gold rings. That's what I'm here for."

I shrug my shoulders and scribble her remark into my notes. Whatever. I'll piece together my composite impression of monster hunting once the day is done.

On that thought, the vehicle grinds to a slow stop. We're now firmly in the midst of the Kanabo desert. All that's out here is sand, a few brown shrubs, tumbleweeds, and a pack of some sort of strange desert dog. They look like hyenas that are camouflaged in the sand thanks to the color of their fur. There are a total of eight of them and they each stand at about four feet in height and six-and-a-half feet in length. They're by no means small creatures, nor are they as large as dragons; nonetheless, they don't look like anything I'd want to mess with.

Günther gazes at them briefly from over the edge of the truck's rear carriage. "Hunt's up," he declares.

At once, he and his crew shuffle out of the truck. I follow them, albeit reluctantly.

"Here's how this works," Günther instructs, "I'll stay with Jacob to defend him. The rest of you stick to your specialties: Magnus will be the primary damage dealer, Kat is on status effects, Louis and Sven are ranged support, Primetime is the secondary damage dealer, and Hypervox will switch between offense and defense depending on the situation."

"Understood," his crew chimes in several variations.

They approach the monstrous desert dogs to engage them in battle. I watch them closely with my pen and paper in hand.

Acting first, the girl named Kat transforms into a Werecat and cast a Sound Magic spell on the enemies by singing the word "nyah!" I know from previous research that I've done that one of the major benefits of Sound Magic is that it is nigh impossible to dodge. The case proves the point here as five of the eight monsters fall asleep. While they're unable to defend themselves, the rest of the crew takes aggressive action.

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First, Primetime, the one who flipped at me and shouted boo, does a somersault kick that slams his heel upon the head of a sleeping monster. The kick deals the monster a considerable amount of physical damage, but consequentially awakes it as well. The fact that it wakes up is a moot point because Hypervox immediately swoops in for a finishing thrust with his long sword.

Next, the ranged fighters, Louis and Sven, team up on one of the other sleeping monsters. Their efficiency is about what I would expect to see from professionals. Sven fires an arrow into the skull of the beast. Then, as if that weren't enough, Louis rolls a fire bomb to underneath it for good measure. The bomb explodes and that's a wrap.

The third kill comes from the primary damage dealer acting alone. Magnus, the large and silent one, rushes yet another sleeping creature and gouges his pendulum-shaped poleax into its spine. The thrusting attack nearly cleaves the beast in two. It's not a pretty sight, but it is unquestionably a clean kill, so to speak.

Now there are three monsters down with five remaining. The two surviving ones who had been affected by the sleep spell both shake their heads vigorously to wake up. The other three go on the attack.

The first attacking beast pounces for Kat. The lithe Werecat spins to the right and the desert hyena passes by her. Her teammates aren't as fast as her. A second hyena pounces for Louis. He fails to dodge. Or more accurately, he panics and throws up his right forearm to defend himself. This allows the creature to sink its teeth deep into his arm. Louis screams and punches at the creature with his left fist, but it doesn't let go.

The third assaulting creature goes for Sven. Like Louis, he fails to get out of the way, but he doesn't get gnawed. Rather, he tries to duck the beast and accidentally exchanges a head butt with it. The trade isn't one of equal value. Monsters have considerably denser bones than humans. As such, Sven goes to the desert floor. His eyes roll into the back of his head and it's evident that he's knocked out cold. Suddenly, it seems like the Mad Dogz & A Kat are losing.

Nervous, my teeth chatter and I bounce from one leg to the other. My instincts tell me to help them, but my mind asks, "What can you do weakling?" It's a valid question; one to which the answer is a firm "nothing."

Günther, on the other hand, is more capable than I. He shouts the words "Avalon Life" and projects a white beam of energy from the palm of his right hand. This energy collides with the unconscious Sven and revives him. He immediately rises to his feet and readies his bow and arrow.

Next, Hypervox moves in to help Louis. To do so, he stands near the beast and takes a thrusting sword stance, but he doesn't strike yet. Rather, he casts a buff on himself that he calls "Melee Focus." Then, once he glows orange from the support spell, he lunges his sword for the base of the hyena's neck. The blow kills the beast, and finally, it releases Louis from its grasp.

Bleeding and injured, Louis turns to Kat. In response, she sings out "Meow!" and casts a much needed party heal on her allies. I think Sven and Louis appreciate the fact.

However, Primetime and Magnus were never injured in the first place. The two dedicated damage dealers go back on the offensive. This starts with Primetime rushing down a hyena and bashing it in the head with a jump 720 Hook Kick in impressive fashion. The powerful blow knocks the enemy to the ground. Which is great, except that the fancy move leaves Primetime open to attack from the nearest enemy. Said enemy pounces at Primetime with a dive.

Just as I begin to cover my eyes to avoid witnessing him be mauled, Primetime activates his Counterattack skill. Thus, with magical precision, he evades the enemy's attack by fractions of an inch, hops with his left leg, and kicks with his right. His counterstrike slings the enemy straight above him into the air. While it's airborne, Magnus flies out of nowhere and cleaves it in half. Then landing, he twists and drops his poleax upon the hyena that was floored by Primetime's hook kick, and just like that, the damage dealers take down two more enemies.

Seeing this coordinated assault frightens the two remaining hyenas. Without further incident, they flee across the desert sands. The human party doesn't give chase, and the battle is over.

Günther turns to me and shrugs his shoulders. "A bit sloppy, but that's how it's done. More or less."

Inspired, I get to work scribbling away on my notepad. I try to remember and record as much of the battle as I can. While I do this, the crew uses its mana extraction tools on the remains of the monsters. This converts the mana within the monsters into âme crystals and causes their bodies to fade away.

They then approach their leader clinking their hard-earned crystals. "How much?" Günther asks.

Kat answers, "Nineteen thousand âmes baby!"

"Nineteen thousand âmes?" I shout, "That's more than I make in three months!"

The edges of Kat's mouth curl into an almost insulting smile. She showily waves a blue âme crystal worth 5000 âmes at me just to let me know what's up. "Exactly," she says, "Gold and diamond rings, what what!" She pushes up her palms, thereby raising an imaginary roof.

Seeing her pompous joy makes me question everything that I've ever known about hard work and dedication. "I'm in the wrong business," I mope.

Günther pats me on the shoulder. "Now now young man. That money was earned through a difficult battle with eight very dangerous creatures. You saw how quickly the tides of battle can turn. Not just anyone can live this kind of lifestyle."

Günther gestures his hand towards the truck and we all pack in. Once I'm comfortably seated across from him, I continue my journalistic inquiry. I ask, "How much would you say the average monster hunter makes in a month?"

He starts to answer but pauses for a moment as the truck kicks into movement. "That depends on where the monster hunter hunts and with how many party members he hunts. At the end of a hunt, also called a 'run,' the members divide the profits equally among themselves. The amount of profit made during a single run is largely determined by the types of monsters the hunters face. Generally speaking, the more powerful the monsters; the greater the profit. This, too, increases the risk however."

With my eyes on my notepad, I continue, "Could you give me a rough estimate of the profits from the most lucrative run that you've ever been a part of?"

Günther pinches his chin with his index finger and thumb thinking about it. "Ohhh, I'd say about two and a half million."

"Two and a half million?"

"Yes, but that was a costly run. Five men died on that journey, and let me tell you, no amount of golden âme crystals can bring a man back from the dead. So in the end, it was hardly worth it."

I scribble that into my notepad. While I'm writing and not looking, Primetime announces, "Kanabo Tigers!"

My head snaps up. Before I see the tigers, I see Kat greedily rubbing her hands together. "Ka-ching!" she hums.

I ignore her and look for the tigers. Surely enough, I see a group of five 7-ft tall humanoid tigers walking together and carrying the heavy kanabo weapons for which they're known. The desert hyenas that I saw earlier were monstrous, sure, but these things look like real through-and-through monsters. They're terrifying. Most of them have orange fur with black stripes like their traditional animal brethren. Yet one of them has dark, almost black fur with even darker black stripes. The other has white fur with black stripes. They all have bigger and bulkier muscles than Magnus with the additional benefit of sharp teeth and claws. Quite frankly, I don't think the Mad Dogz should mess with these things. But then that's my uninformed opinion. They're the experts.

Louis stops the truck. Like before, they all pile out and ready their weapons. The nearby tigermen take note of them and start walking towards our group. The fact that they neither run towards nor away from us freaks me out to no end. All of my muscles shake and I become too afraid to even exit the vehicle. It's just as well because in the next instant, Günther shouts to me, "Stay in the vehicle Jacob! They'll need my help with this one!"

No objections there. I scrunch down on the cushion and watch the event unfold.

Like before, Kat takes the first action. She transforms into a Werecat. Strangely, this seems to spook the tigermen. They take off running.

Stunned, the crew freezes in place. "Listen," Günther commands.

Not knowing what's going on, I listen carefully as well. What I hear is something that sounds like muted rumbling. I feel small vibrations from my spot in the vehicle's rear carriage, but looking around I don't see anything.

"What is it?" Kat asks.

"Shoosh!" Günther snaps.

The rumbling grows louder and the vibrations become stronger. "Everyone in the truck now!" Günther screams.

Obeying, the crew scrambles back into the vehicle. "Louis, get us out of here!" Günther orders.

At once, Louis makes the vehicle go as fast as it can. I still don't know what's going on, but the concerned look on Günther's face frightens me. Beside myself with fear, I ask to no one in particular, "What's going on?"

It's at that second that I find out. From the depths of the netherworld or some other awful place, a colossal worm the size of a castle tower springs out of the sand. It screeches the most ear-splitting cry that I've ever heard. I have to cover my ears due to the pain produced from its deafening noise. But if creating noise were all that it did, then we'd be fine. Of course, it's not. The worm clearly has multiple rows of long sharp teeth lining its leech-like mouth. I get a sense of what its intentions are when it comes hurtling after us.

"What is that thing?" I scream.

"Sandworm!" Günther shouts. "Sven kill it!"

The group's designated archer rises to his feet with his bow and arrow at the ready. As quickly as he can, he rips off arrow after arrow at the beast. All of his shots hit. Not one misses. Nevertheless, the worm keeps pursuing us undaunted.

"Keep firing!" Günther orders.

As said, Sven keeps firing. That is until the worm sinks beneath the sand once more.

"Did I kill it?" Sven asks.

Without warning, our vehicle begins to slow. "Why are you slowing down?" Hypervox shouts to Louis.

Louis answers, "The engine overheated! We're losing power!"

All eyes turn to Günther. The look on his face is one of absolute terror. "Oh no," he mutters.

Suddenly, we hear the worm's screech from under us. The truck lifts off the ground and sails through the air.

Moments later I find myself laying in the hot desert sand. My head is in a daze and the world appears blurry. I don't think I'm injured, so I crawl up to my feet.

Peering around, I see the bodies of Günther, Kat, Primetime, and Magnus strewn across the desert floor not far from me. Louis's body hangs halfway out of the truck's door. It would seem that when the truck landed, it crushed him at the spine. His eyes are open, but they're devoid of any light or vibrancy.

Still dazed, I walk towards Sven whom I see off to my left. With each stride that I take, I stagger due to my dizzy head and upset balance. Nonetheless, I can see and hear clearly enough, and what I hear is the sandworm's screech, and what I see is it spring out of nowhere and swallow Sven whole. It then sinks into the sand, taking the archer with it.

Panic-stricken, I try to scurry away in the opposite direction lest the worm eat me next. Yet to my horror, I see a pack of tigermen closing in on us. Hypervox is already engaged in a battle with three of them. He slashes his sword at the tigerman in the center of the group, but it easily defends against his blow with its kanabo. The tigerman then thrusts out its left paw and blows Hypervox to the floor. While he's down, the other two tigermen use their heavy steel kanabos to squash the life out of him.

Desperate, I turn to flee in the opposite direction, but before I can take a single step, a black-colored tigerman runs out in front of me. I freeze in fear. It thrusts its palm and smashes me in the face. I feel my body hit the ground, but then I lose consciousness.