Hunt In Reverse

As night fell, the Delgado residence buzzed with a forced gaeity.

The sleek, minimalist dining room was bathed in soft, warm light. A long, polished table, set with gleaming silverware and crystal glassware, dominated the space.

Aveline Hightower, escorted by the imposing Arnold Stark, took her seat at the table. Arnold settled beside her, his demeanor casual, bordering on arrogant.

Unfamiliar with noble customs, I maintained my aloof persona by excusing myself with a fabricated illness—a subtle way to emphasize my connection to the prestigious Hightower family of Sacramento.

"A pity," Claro Delgado sighed, tugging at the fine fabric of his carefully chosen suit. But he couldn't deny a sense of relief.

Despite his attempts at courtesy, "the Hightower family scion" exuded an air of effortless superiority, a subtle disdain for the Delgado family that grated on Claro's nerves. He stood there, in simple attire, yet radiated an aura that dwarfed Claro's carefully cultivated elegance. Even in his finest clothes, Claro still felt like a pauper in comparison.

Fortunately, he had his great-grandfather to bolster his image. As long as the old man lived, the Delgado family would retain its position among the second-rate forces of Cascadia. He glanced towards the head of the table, expecting to see his great-grandfather. Instead, he found his father approaching, accompanied by a dazzling woman in red.

The woman was undeniably beautiful, her curves accentuated by the crimson dress. Even though dressed in cheap fabric, she had a seductive charm that could rival any noble lady. And she looked familiar... Claro Delgado's eyes widened in recognition, and he inwardly cringed. His father... how could he be so crass? To bring a courtesan to a banquet intended for Miss Hightower!

Aveline Hightower blushed, while Arnold's eyes narrowed. So, that was her game. If she couldn't win over the son, she'd target the father. She were determined to compete.

Rose Hightower settled into her seat with a sly smile, casting a mischievous glance toward Aveline and Arnold. Aveline shrank back, her eyes flickering with unease.

"Is Miss Hightower feeling chilly?" Claro asked. "Someone fetch a sable."

"Thank you," Aveline Hightower murmured, though a shiver ran down her spine.

The petty drama quickly subsided, but as the guests settled into their seats, they noticed something amiss. Aside from the Hightower junior, another key figure was absent: the Delgado family patriarch.

Arnold and Rose exchanged a curious glance. The fishing line was cast, but where was the bait?

… …

In a quiet corner of the Delgado estate, far from the lavish reception, I sat alone on a secluded patio, a simple meal of still water and sizzling fajitas before me. The air was filled with the sounds of the night: the chirping of crickets, the distant laughter, and the gentle rustle of leaves in the cool evening breeze.

I reviewed my panel, my mind calculating the full extent of my current strength. The techniques I'd learned from the Admiral, though not Crystal Realm, could still threaten even a half-step Crystal Realm expert like the Kongo Shintai Jushoku. And the Body of Awakening, now perfected, offered formidable defense.

But my true strength lay in the Vampire Devouring External Crystal, a trump card that could turn the tide of any battle.

Based on my observations, Arnold posed a threat roughly equivalent to that of the Leviasaur Lord, who had disguised himself as Karim Shaheen. Both were likely at the formative Crystallization stage.

One step further, and they would be fully Crystallized, ready to embrace the next stage, Harmonizion. If I included the Vampire Devouring External Crystal in my calculations, I was technically on par with them.

But that wasn't the whole story. Arnold undoubtedly possessed a formidable arsenal of Crystal Realm techniques, while the Leviasaur had his demonic heritage and innate resilience.

In a direct confrontation, I would likely be crushed. I could perhaps hold my own against anyone weaker than those two, but it was difficult to say for sure. I lacked a proper gauge, a true measure of my strength.

… …

I picked up a piece of steak, the aroma of sizzling meat and spices filling my senses, and brought it to my lips. But before I could take a bite, I glanced towards the courtyard entrance, a subtle shift in my awareness alerting me to a new presence.

An elderly man in white linen shirt shuffled in, a jeroboam clutched in his hand. He set it down on the table with a thump and let out a loud gurgling hiccup.

"You have meat, but no wine," he declared, his voice a jovial rumble. "I have wine, but no meat. Let's join forces, eh?"

"And you are?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.

There was only one person in Bellingham who could trigger my danger sense. But Arnold and the others had gone to a lot of trouble to set this up. I wouldn't ruin it for them.

"Just a useless old man, waiting to die," Alonso Delgado replied with a chuckle, his cheeks flushed, but a shadow flickering in his eyes. He paused, the jovial facade momentarily slipping, before adding with a forced lightness, "I'm ancient. The lord is calling me home soon."

I met his gaze, a flicker of understanding passing between us. "Perhaps," I said quietly, "but even a useless old man can find purpose in the face of death." I paused, before adding with a subtle smile, "And sometimes, the lord's call leads us to unexpected places."

Then I gestured towards the seat beside me. "No need for wine," I said, my voice calm and welcoming. "Please, sit."

It wasn't surprising that the old man, a local fixture for so many years, had sensed my aura.

"You're from Sacramento?" Alonso asked, taking another gulp from the jeroboam. He picked up a piece of steak with his fingers and popped it into his mouth. "I've never been there." His face grew redder with each drink, but his eyes remained bright and alert.

"Never had the chance when I was young," he mused, pausing to take another slice of beef. "And now I'm too old. Too many people depend on me. They'd panic if I left."

"Tell me," the old man said suddenly, clutching the jeroboam to his chest as he turned to me, his eyes filled with a strange yearning. "Do you think... do you think I still have a chance to go?"

I hesitated. Was he hinting at something—perhaps fleeing to Sacramento rather than serving as bait for the tiger vampires? If the old man seriously considered such an idea, Arnold would tackle him to the ground in an instant. Fortunately, Alonso didn't seem to expect an answer.

"Ah, well," he said, picking up yet another piece of steak. "It doesn't matter. Bellingham is fine. I suppose it would be nice if things could just stay as they are."

He seemed to relax after that, his demeanor shifting. He was just a frail old man now, reminiscing about his past, the weight of danger and fear momentarily forgotten.

"When I was your age," he mused, while chewing another piece of meat. "I was too lazy to properly dedicate myself to martial arts. I dabbled in everything, never truly mastering anything. Perfection seemed too arduous. A bit of proficiency was enough. I was just lucky, I suppose..."

I didn't think the old man was being disingenuous. That was the reality for most second-rate forces. They relied on luck, on stumbling upon some hidden opportunity, or on unorthodox techniques.

They peaked when their Crystal Realm grandpa was alive. Once he was gone, they could rarely replicate his success, and gradually slid back into mediocrity.

"Well then," Alonso said with a chuckle, shaking his jeroboam and letting out another belch, a surprisingly loud sound from such a frail figure. "Thank you for indulging an old man's ramblings. It's rare to find someone with such patience these days." He rose, snagged the last piece of meat as he headed towards the door.

"I'll be off, then." He left with a cheerful farewell.

… …

I stared at the empty plate, pondering my revelation. Finally, I had a benchmark to measure against. Not all Crystal Realm experts possessed the overwhelming might of my previous encounters. This old man, while formidable, was only marginally stronger than the Kongo Shintai Jushoku.

He barely even qualified as a nascent Crystal Realm expert. Lacking in both skill and technique... that was the norm for most wandering martial artists.

H.A.R.M., with its structured training methods, its vast arsenal of techniques, its Martial Abbey Cleansing... they systematically produced powerful Crystal Realm experts. It was a concept alien to those outside the organization.

… …

A short while later, Arnold and Aveline returned, their expressions grim.

"What's the rush, Arnold?" Aveline asked, her hands clasped behind her back. "If you're worried their grandpa might discover something... well, you could always pay him a visit. Give him a little... reminder."

"It's not that," Arnold replied, his voice flat. "It's Rose I'm worried about." The innocent girl, the one who used to follow him around with that lingering milk smell, had become a fierce competitor. He'd gone to great lengths to orchestrate this setup, all for those three tiger cubs—each with the potential to reach the Crystal Realm. He wasn't about to share a single one.

I chuckled inwardly. Knowing Rose's fierce resilience and determination, I felt a surge of anticipation.

… …

The following morning, at the break of dawn, the Delgado family patriarch emerged, flanked by a retinue of family members.

He was a picture of wealth and authority, his elegant suit and meticulously groomed hair a stark contrast to his disheveled state the night before. He held himself with the dignity befitting the strongest expert in Bellingham, his earlier unguarded vulnerability replaced by an air of unassailable power.