“Urgh…”

As he pulled his worn-down fishing net out of the murky red waters, Milo could not help but flinch at the sea spray that his new catch helplessly pelted on him.

Undoubtedly a result of the increased water acidity ever since the end came, even a mere droplet of seawater could sting a person badly, and once-normal activities such as swimming or even mere dipping were out of the question.

However, while humans could not set foot in the water anymore, that did not necessarily prevent them from still making a living off it, and many surviving coastal towns began to find new ways to use it for their benefit.

Firstly, after much lengthy processing and treatment, the water could be made safe to drink, even though it still carried a significant risk due to the other unknown elements inside. By collecting them, going around the wasteland and selling them to other villages who had little to no water access, they could make a quick buck from it.

Another source of profit was the marine life that still thrived in the waters against all the odds. From bloodfish, to giant crabs, and occasionally a few black clams, the options were limited, but there was still a small variety of things to catch, cook, sell, and eat.

For the ones who had decided to make a living by going out every day and gathering those two precious resources, their days were filled with hazards and dangers, but as long as they could catch enough to get through the week, they were satisfied.

But even though they had days where they could find happiness from the simple pleasures, there were still some days where they could not, and those days often outnumbered the former.

“One bloodfish… one bloodfish…”

The sun had already begun to set, which normally meant that the fishermen needed to return to the shore soon for fear of the winds changing their direction and speed and pushing them further and further away from shore.

However, even with that fact in his mind, Milo momentarily had the thought of staying as he glared at the small red fish hopping around his net, the only thing in there that was actually viable for him to make use of.

Due to his past experience, he knew that he had a better chance of surviving in the rough waters than other people.

Over the years, he had learnt a number of tricks and skills that he could use at his disposal. In the past, he could have even convinced himself that he could at least make it through a night at sea, if not a few more, and still return safely.

In the present day however, he knew better. Even a higher chance of survival in this case was most likely little to none at all, and he knew it. And so, he sighed, turned his boat around and drove back to shore.

“Another day…”

Other small fishing boats soon joined up with him as he carefully parked at the dilapidated dock that connected the open sea to the small town where he had been staying for the past year.

Getting off the boat and taking his meager catch off his vessel in a bucket, he slowly walked back to his house, passing through the slightly bustling market on his way there.

On good days, he would have stopped over at the many stalls to either sell off his large catch, buy a few condiments to supplement his meals or acquire tools for his fishing trips, but he did not feel up to it on this particular day.

The exhaustion of the trip had already set in, and once it was accompanied by his disappointment at his catch, it made him feel terrible as a whole, and he did not intend to show that mood to anyone, least of all his fishing partners and market friends.

All I want to do is to get through this horrid day as soon as possible…

“Oh!”

“Guh!”

A sudden cry rang out. In his moody, unfocused state, he had accidentally bumped into someone who quickly fell to the ground in response. The bucket in his hand was let go in the confusion, and it tumbled onto the ground, spilling the small fish onto the dirt, where it flopped around until it finally stopped.

“A… Are you ok?”

Even though he had just lost his only catch of the day, he was not mad. Instead, he focused on the person he had just bumped into, showing them his concern.

“…”

The mysterious individual was wearing a torn black cloak that hid their face in shadow. Even as they stood up and brushed themselves off, they did not speak, but simply gave a quick nod towards him before hurriedly walking away in the direction he was going.

As the small crowd that had gathered to watch the scene lost interest and dispersed, Milo placed his now-dirty fish back in his bucket before picking the whole thing back up.

“Hm…”

For some reason, he felt a fleeting sensation when he had bumped into the person, but he could not quite place it. There was some kind of familiarity he felt with them, but it was unclear, and now that they were gone without any further explanation, it was looking like it was going to be unsolved for him.

Was it the strangely hard feeling he felt when he hit their body? Or was it the soft but unmistakable creaking of metal that he had heard from their movements when they walked away?

In addition to those abnormalities, when he had bumped into them, it was only a mere brush, yet they had easily fallen to the ground as if they weighed nothing, or as if they were made of air. Regardless of what it was, he had a nagging suspicion in the back of his mind.

“You alright there, Milo?”

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However, before those doubts could form into anything substantial, the loud call from one of his market friends intruded into them, and without a second thought, he shrugged them off and moved his mind to another subject.

There were more important things he had to focus on after all, such as the fact that his dinner was now ruined by the collision, and that he had to somehow find another way to settle it.

“Yeah, I’m fine!”

Guess I have to buy something after all…

The mystery person had been pushed out of his mind completely. He purchased his dinner ingredients at the market and walked back to his house, not thinking anything else about them or their unusualness.

“Grrr…”

I’m hungry.

Eager to begin preparing his meal, he strode right up to his front door and opened it with one big swing, casually shaking off his fishing boots and humming a soft tune as he walked towards the living room on his way to the kitchen.

“Yo.”

The sudden voice stopped him dead in his tracks right as he entered the room.

“!!!”

The black hooded individual was back, sitting on his sofa without a care in the world. This time, his cloak was completely off, exposing his entire face and body for him to see, and unlike what had happened before in the market, he could easily recognize him now.

A young man, with long, red hair tied up at the back in a ponytail. A makeshift white eyepatch covering his left eye. And a body fitted with metallic extensions running down from his head to his feet.

A ghost from the not-so-distant past.

Shit! How could I have forgotten him?

In front of him was the coffee table, but instead of being empty as it was last left, it was packed with an assortment of weapons and tools that lay neatly on it. From the longest knife to the shortest gun, they were all polished and seemingly well-taken care of.

“Would you care to join me, Milo? I made some tea while you were away,” the man addressed him with a smile. Every word that came out of his mouth was dripping with contempt and hatred, yet at the same time it sounded awfully cheerful and friendly for an unknown reason.

As the two of them locked eyes together, Milo gulped before putting on the bravest expression he could muster and, bracing himself, he shouted at the grinning man.

“I… don’t know what you want, but I would suggest you leave now!”

“…”

There was a lengthy silence before the man laughed.

“Are you really going to ask me what I want? Surely you already know that.”

“… I…”

“Think, Milo, think,” the man tapped his head with his finger, causing his metal extensions to softly creak in tandem, “but of course, that is not your real name, is it?”

“…”

Sweat slowly dripped down Milo’s neck as he began to panic. As he analyzed the danger he was in, he realized that he had nothing to defend himself if the man attacked.

The only weapons that he could use were either in his room upstairs or laid out on the coffee table, but neither of those options seemed to be very helpful to him now.

Maybe I can use my bucket…

“I do have to say, you certainly did not make it easy for me to find you. A surprising name change, moving to this empty town, I think you’re one of the few that actually went out of their way to blend into a normal, boring life, and I commend you for that.”

Seeing his hesitation, the man leaned forward and began to adjust the weapons on the table as his expression grew more serious.

“However, I will always find my targets. I do like difficult hunts, but I must end them after a while. I’m sure you agree with that logic too… Major.”

Milo gulped once again and clenched his fingers into a fist. There was no question about it, he was going to die if he did not do anything.

“I admit that I did not actually make any tea,” the man continued as he picked up a pistol from the table, “but what I do have are my friends. Perhaps you want a quick introduction?”

“…”

“I’m sure you know her name. This one is ‘Sally’. You remember her? Her stories?”

This… this is worse than I thought…

Even though Milo had already heard rumors about his brutal crusade since the beginning, seeing that behavior before his eyes for the first time was beyond anything he had expected.

The casualness at which he was addressing his weapon was on another level of insanity, and it quickly sent a chill down his spine as he watched him continue to caress his gun and talk to it as if it was a living thing.

At this point, there was really only one thing he could do.

“… sorry…”

“Hm?”

“I’m… sorry… for what happened…” he swallowed his pride and softly muttered.

I need to find an opening. Catch him off guard and…

“It’s alright.”

“Huh?”

The smile was back on the man’s face as he casually dismissed it before replying, “I don’t need your forgiveness, Major. I need you to choose.”

“C… Choose?”

The man placed the pistol back on the table before spreading his arms wide, highlighting the presence of all the other weapons lying on the wood.

“Choose the weapon you want me to take your life with, or the one you want us to fight with. I’m not picky, and I’ll be completely fair. Take your pick, Major.”

“Um…”

“If you don’t make your decision quick, I’ll make one for you. Choose now.”

“I… I…”

All his past experiences. Serving in the forces as a military leader. Taking part in that experiment. Facing an unthinkable number of near-death experiences. None of those were able to stop Milo from weakly falling to the floor, overwhelmed by the panic and terror that ran through his mind.

“Why… why…”

Watching his actions with pure amusement, the man laughed again before picking another weapon off the table, this time a short knife, which he lazily spun around in his hand.

“Don’t worry, take all the time you need. We have all night.”

“…”

But Milo was no longer able to speak of his own volition. He just sat on the floor, his head lowered, his dry mouth repeatedly opening and closing to take shallow breaths and nothing else.

“’Hell, you’re weak. What a disappointment you’re turning out to be.’ You remember when you said that to us?”

Seeing his inactivity, the man shrugged and got up from the sofa with the knife still in his hand.

“Eh, you probably can’t say it now, whatever. Either way, it doesn’t matter anymore.”

The polished knife gleamed in his blue eye as he slowly walked towards the unresponsive Milo with a look of pity.

“You made your decisions, and I’ll make mine,” he remarked as he knelt to his eye level, “shall I make yours for you, then?”

“A… argggggh!”

The next few seconds were a mess. In one last desperate attempt to fight back, Milo had swung his bucket at the man hoping to connect it with his head and knock him unconscious, but it was of no use.

“Clang!”

It did indeed hit his body, but as soon as it did, it had instantly crumpled into a pile of metal with a devastating clanging and crushing sound. It was almost as though it had been broken just by merely touching him.

“Shit…”

“Really?” the man scoffed in disgust as Milo slumped down in despair again, “I’ve seen your friends fight better than that. Is that it?”

“…”

“I guess those are your last words then. Oh well.”

With one clean stroke, Milo’s neck was sliced wide open. After a few seconds of choking and sputtering, he died, his blood mercilessly splattering all over the man, the room, and the knife.

“Well, guess that’s that,” the unshaken man remarked as he stood up, rubbing his face to get the blood out of his eye.

Cleaning off the bloody knife as best he could, the man absentmindedly scratched his head before walking back to the coffee table and packing his weapons into the bag he left at the corner of the room, out of Milo’s view.

“That’s another one down...” he sighed as he picked up his discarded cloak and put it on once again.

The hunt had ended somewhat anticlimactically for him this time around, but it was certainly not over yet.