Hunt In Reverse

Unseen, atop the bustling Canlis Restaurant, Arnold Stark sighed, a hint of exasperation in his voice. Perhaps it was an occupational hazard, but even back in the heart of civilization, Granny Chloe insisted on perching in odd places, maintaining her harmless, eccentric facade.

Chloe sat with her legs dangling over the edge of the roof, her bare feet swinging playfully in the air.

"So," she asked, "back so soon? What did you accomplish?"

"I stood on a tree and observed," Arnold replied flatly.

"And then?" Chloe asked, turning to him with a curious expression, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

"And then I came back," Arnold mumbled, unable to suppress a grimace. He hadn't even understood the purpose of his mission. Chloe chuckled, noticing his disgruntled expression.

"He's that powerful?" she asked, amused. Her grandson had been so dismissive of Kane before. What had changed?

"More powerful than you can imagine," Arnold admitted, his voice heavy. "Stronger than I was at his age... stronger than you or General Laurent were. He's decisive, ruthless... Given time, he'll surpass even me."

"And so you intend to lead him, to replace us old fogies?" Chloe asked, stretching languidly.

"I have no intention of leading anyone," Arnold declared, his hands clenching into fists. "Nor will I protect him. He doesn't need my protection, anyway."

Surprise flickered across Chloe's face. Her grandson saw this young man as a rival? A Crystal Realm expert, threatened by a mere peak Wave Realmer?

"Aha!" she exclaimed, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Let's attribute his achievement to his role as a Silver Bell Vampire Hunter rather than his H.A.R.M. colonel status. Once he accumulates enough merit, we can trade it for a Crystallization Method and arrange a Martial Abbey Cleansing for him."

H.A.R.M. craved stability. They wouldn't tolerate any unpredictable elements within their ranks. But the Vampire Hunters were different. They embraced chaos, wielded those sharp swords without hesitation, even if those blades might turn against them.

"Where is he, by the way?" Chloe asked, a hint of curiosity in her voice.

"He returned early," Arnold replied. "He's overseeing the Kongo Shintai raid." He couldn't help but sigh, a trace of admiration in his voice.

At such a young age, to possess such strength was impressive enough. But to be so meticulous, so organized... it was remarkable.

He'd acted decisively, besieging Kongo Shintai Temple, then venturing out to confront the jushoku. And he hadn't sought glory or recognition. He'd remained focused, ensuring the operation was completed thoroughly, leaving no loose ends.

Arnold frowned as he glanced at the young nobles below. They paled in comparison to the young colonel.

"You've got nothing better to do," Chloe said, her voice taking on a sharper edge. "Before you leave, dispose of those phony monks. They're an eyesore." With a single sentence, she'd sealed Kongo Shintai disciples' fate. She rose to her feet sweeping over the city. "I was planning to find someone to show that boy the ropes," she continued. "Since you seem to have taken a liking to him, why don't you take him to Bellingham? Broaden his horizons a bit."

"Very well," Arnold agreed.

… …

West City, Kongo Shintai Temple.

The once-serene temple grounds were now a scene of organized chaos. Countless H.A.R.M. agents swarmed up and down the spider-webbed, cracked stairs with practiced, efficient movements, their boots echoing through the stripped halls.

They were experts at this sort of thing—ransacking and dismantling. They'd leave no stone unturned, no crevice unexplored. Even the spaces beneath the floorboards were meticulously searched. They smashed the massive Buddha statue, confirming it held no hidden treasures, before moving on to the next.

I leaned against a carriage, idly flipping through a martial arts manual. Two captains stood at attention beside me.

"Colonel Kane," one ventured respectfully, "would you like us to make a copy for you, so you can examine it more closely later?"

After a moment, I closed the manual, the fruit of their search, and tossed it carelessly to the captains. "No need," I said calmly. "Just add it to the records."

"To think Kongo Shintai was once so prosperous," one captain remarked, his voice tinged with disbelief. "And now... reduced to this."

He gestured at the ransacked temple, his disappointment evident. Their wealth, compared to Crown Mountain, or even a typical second-rate organization... it was paltry. Where had all their resources gone?

"They exhausted their resources," the other captain added, "attempting to create a body-tempering warrior who could rival the Crystal Realm. They sought to reclaim their former glory..." He trailed off, the implication of my return hanging heavy in the air. The jushoku was dead, their ambition laid to waste.

"You're dismissed," I said with a nod. Once they were gone, I summoned my panel. A new entry had appeared, and a spark of triumph ignited within me.

[Crystal Realm - Resurrected Body (untrained)]

I'd suspected something was amiss when I'd first encountered the Kongo Shintai Jushoku. The man's aura wasn't demonic.

Though the book was titled "Life and Death Zen Body, Volume 1," the system identified the technique as "Resurrected Body."

Based on my brief study of the manual, the Resurrected Body technique harnessed the opposing forces of life and death energies within cosmic essence to temper the body.

Black and white, death and life—destruction and rejuvenation, death and resurrection. A dangerous dance with forces beyond mortal comprehension.

The jushoku must have thought this was a technique of Buddhist origin, yet it had actually been derived from Christian principles.

Thus, barking up the wrong tree, his meditation alone would have been achieved nothing. He must have resorted to more... direct methods to fuel his training. And surprisingly, it worked, but at a terrible cost.

I glanced at my remaining lifespan – a mere four hundred years – and sighed.

Though I'd only recently returned from Crown Mountain, I'd already depleted a significant portion of my absorbed lifespan. And this Resurrected Body technique... it was merely the first volume.

I'd encountered my fair share of incomplete techniques. The Body of Golden Sun was a prime example. Even when trained to perfection, it barely reached the level of a true Wave Realm technique. Against genuine Wave Realm vampires, it was practically useless.

This half-volume of the Resurrected Body... it would certainly enhance my strength, but it wouldn't be a game-changer, not on its own.

What fascinated me was that this was a Crystal Realm body tempering technique—a window into power beyond the Wave Realm. With my ability to create Mind Shards and enough lifespan, I could potentially develop it into a complete martial art.

A complete Crystal Realm body tempering technique... it could be the foundation of a first-rate family. After all this time, I finally had a chance to explore the higher echelons of martial arts. And everything I needed... I could take from the vampires.

With that in mind, I retrieved the silver bell from my pocket. This would make acquiring vampiric lifespan far easier. There was no need to rush.

I waited until nightfall, watching as the agents loaded their spoils onto the carriages, transporting them back to H.A.R.M. I hitched a ride, returning to my quarters.

… …

A few hushed conversations drifted from the house, a gentle murmur that broke the silence of the night.

The table was laden with food, still warm, and the wine glasses were nearly full, yet no one had touched their cutlery.

Butcher Garcia playfully ruffled the boy's hair, while Max Vierkant watched them both, lost in thought. Footsteps sounded outside, and they turned, their faces brightening as they rose to greet the newcomer who entered the hall.

"Welcome back," they said, masking their concern.

I paused, casually tossing my wolf-emblazoned cloak onto the back of a chair. I sat down at the table and took a sip of wine, savoring the rich flavor as I observed my companions.

"Something on your minds?" I asked.

Max sighed, his relief palpable. "We were worried about you, Colonel Kane."

Suppressing the younger generation of Seattle's elite... most wouldn't even attempt such a feat. Those arrogant youths had powerful backers, after all. But Kane had not only done it, he'd done it flawlessly, leaving no room for criticism.

Still, no one was perfect. He would need to continue proving his strength, time and again, until those venomous eyes finally learned to look away, to show respect.

If he could achieve that, Max mused, perhaps Master should step down, cede the position of Admiral to him.

"I..." Butcher Garcia raised his glass towards me, his eyes filled with tears, then drained it in a single gulp. Words couldn't express his gratitude. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Wherever, whenever," he declared, his voice thick with emotion, "if you need me, just say the word. I'll prepare my coffin and follow you to the ends of the earth."