The Mysterious Hunter

Jorgen gazed at the vine-covered walls of the Gurubashi Arena, riddled with all kinds of small insect nests between the bricks, and couldn't help but think back to the rainy night chasing Idoli. The arena in the dark of night was like a huge lurking sea beast in the rainforest, gloomy and dangerous. But in the daylight, the sunlight and shadows were intertwined on the uneven green textures of countless depths on the surface of the walls, making it impossible to look away. No matter how much blood flowed through it or how much resentment it bred, the Gurubashi Arena bore it all with its heavy body.

As expected, Silversnap's men did not come to him immediately. But when leaving Booty Bay this morning, Jorgen felt that two people were following him. They were very lazy and unsteady followers, though it could also be an illusion, but Jorgen could not take so much into account. Now that he was here, he had to do his own business.

He and Elin agreed that Jorgen would start investigating from the arena side, looking for direct doubts and clues, while Elin would go into the underground gambling dens to find relevant information and further confirm the whereabouts of Idoli's five hundred gold coins. This arrangement should be appropriate, as Elin blended in better in the casino - or rather, was a gambler himself. Also, since Jorgen's identity had already been exposed to Silversnap, looking for clues in ways that avoided too much contact with others was safer.

Under the stands, a passage connected the contestants' dressing rooms. There were four rooms in total, one east, west, south and north. Jorgen walked down the damp corridor, with torches on both sides of the walls extinguished, making it almost completely dark inside. In the darkness, the sounds of insects lurking and crawling came continuously.

Vossuva entered the arena from the south gate on the day of the final, and Brego from the north gate. Jorgen came to the end of the south end of the corridor, outside Vossuva's room, and pulled open the heavy iron door. There were some chains wrapped around the doorknob.

He went in and found that it was actually a cramped room. In the middle of the room was a huge ogre-style stone chair, and nothing else. The bronze door leading to the arena was braked by a mechanical device, so contestants could not open it from inside the room. The side door leading to the corridor, on the other hand, could be locked from the outside, e.g. with the iron chains Jorgen saw locking the doorknob.

Jorgen closed the corridor door and the room became a purely dark space. It was in rooms like this, with their vision blocked, that the contestants could only feel the vibrations of the stands through their ears and skin. The doors on both sides were closed tightly, unable to escape, until the door to the slaughter opened. Some light came in from under the bronze door. At first Jorgen did not understand the purpose of this design, which was of no benefit to the contestants' peace of mind - but instantly realized that what was happening here was not a sport, but chaotic and gloomy slaughter.

At that moment, he smelled a familiar, unpleasant smell. Like burning insect shells, a pungent and spicy smell. At the moment, the smell was very faint, but the dark environment helped Jorgen focus his sense of smell. At first, he associated it with the mixed herbal smell coming from Vossuva the evening they confronted each other; but the current smell was simpler.

It was the smell of burning "dinner".

Although smelling a smell left over from a day before would not cause adverse reactions, Jorgen still closed his breath and turned to leave the room. Just then, accompanied by the sound of the bronze door rising, he found that the faint light seeping under the door at his feet gradually spreading. Someone outside had opened the door to the arena.

"Who's in there?" The person who opened the door was silhouetted against the light, making it impossible for Jorgen, who had been in the dark for a while, to see his face at all.

"Someone from Booty Bay." Jorgen replied, slowly approaching the newcomer.

"Don't move, just stand there." The stranger said. "Haven't seen you before. What are you doing here? You're armed."

Jorgen gradually saw the other's face. He was a human of about the same age as himself, dressed as a hunter, but the materials of his clothes and weapons were very exquisite and expensive. As he warned Jorgen, he slowly raised his right fist as if holding something invisible.

"I wanted to see Vossuva's dressing room. Yesterday's game was not convincing." Jorgen used a compromise answer. Not making up, nor revealing his identity.

"Not convinced? Did you lose money and not convinced? Coming here won't help you much. "

"It's not just about the money, sir. I have great respect for Broken Tooth Vossuva. I don't expect to discover anything myself, but I just came to see ... otherwise I feel uneasy inside. Just like that."

The stranger was silent for a moment, putting down his right fist. Jorgen now saw that his clenched palm had originally been holding an extremely thin, inch-long wooden tube, which now fell into his pocket.

"Come out and talk." He said.

Jorgen walked out from under the bronze door. The sunlight shining on the oval arena seemed even more intense than when it fell on the canopy.

"What's your name?" the other asked.

Jorgen temporarily made up a false name. Then the other gave his name: "I'm Keener Marando, and I'm here for the same purpose as you."

Jorgen was familiar with that name.

"Keener ... Vossuva's opponent in the semi-finals?"

"Oh, you remember. The two finalists in this competition were too prominent, I thought everyone would forget my name. I will not forget Vossuva, he left me this. "He raised his left hand, the flesh and fingers of his ring finger and little finger seemed to have melted away, leaving only a thin layer of bone outside, showing a rotten yellow-green color." I consider myself a good poisoner, but he was on a completely different level. "

"May I ask, what I saw in your fist just now ..."

"This is my weapon. Although it's a bit strange for a hunter to use something like this, but ... "Keener took out the little wooden tube again and made a blowing gesture." If I had really done that just now, the poisoned needle would have pierced your neck. "

"Oh ... I see. Did you use it against Vossuva?"

"Useless at all, what painful memories. He seemed to be able to dodge my attacks without any real effort. I lost heartily, and was glad he left me alive. Brego's semi-final opponent was much more pitiful, not even a complete corpse could be picked up. "

"How unfortunate. Are you an adventurer? You don't look like an ordinary hunter. "

"That's right, you can say I'm an adventurer. I guess that's why I use such strange weapons. Of course, damage from bows and arrows is still greatest, but you don't always have a chance to draw a bow. I've trained with this thing for over ten years, with a range not inferior to a short bow ... just not so proud of it now. Did you watch the final too? "

"Of course, otherwise I wouldn't be here. To say 'watched' is not quite accurate, because none of us really saw anything, the game was over. "

"One stroke and down, I don't know how you see it, some fools were even excited about such a result ... they don't understand, this is not the result of a difference in strength at all. I have fought Vossuva, I have absolute qualifications to raise doubts. I mean ... he seemed to stand there aimlessly, just waiting for that stroke to fall on him! "

"He stood in front of Brego like a dummy about to fall apart." Jorgen borrowed Elin's metaphor.

"Exactly, you put it too well. However, I may have seen it more clearly than you, as a semi-finalist I could get a better position. Vossuva was still Vossuva as usual, just ... lacking his usual vitality. To be honest, at first I thought he disdained to dodge that stroke, had a simpler way to deal with it, but didn't expect ... "

"Vossuva defeated you. But from the sound of it, you don't seem to resent him at all."

"Resent? How could that be, old buddy. There are countless adventurers who worship him, I used to think I was just an ordinary one of them, but now to fight with him in the same arena, this is an extraordinary experience, with this story I can get a lot of free food and drink in the future, and a lot of good jobs. Two fingers are nothing, though it makes it hard for me to draw a bow now, but it also gave me a chance to practice blowing arrows. "

Jorgen understood Keener's intention. In the future, when Keener loudly proclaimed "I once fought Broken Tooth Vossuva" to others, he hoped their reaction would be "the hero Broken Tooth Vossuva, who was wrongly killed", rather than "Oh, that ogre who was defeated with one stroke in the final".

"So, did you find anything?" Keener asked.

"No, I just came to take a casual look, didn't expect to find anything."

"Inside the dressing room?"

"Just like that, dark, nothing there." Jorgen did not intend to reveal the "dinner" smell.

"Really? Hearing you say that, I feel a little discouraged. Maybe what we both did was in vain ... but meeting someone with similar ideas is still pretty good. I should go back, goodbye. "

With that, Keener left the arena through the exit above the stands.

He was discouraged and gave up the search just because of a stranger's words? Although he did not seem like a very serious person, this was still very strange.

After confirming that Keener's figure had completely disappeared, Jorgen returned to the dressing room, hoping to find the ashes left after the "dinner" burning. But he found that the wall of the dressing room facing the corridor had lit up with a white light. It should have been pitch black there.

He frowned slightly. Perhaps too focused on the conversation with Keener, he had not heard any sound. He went through the dressing room and into the corridor, and found a torch lit on the floor, looking like a simple low-intensity flare, illuminating this narrow area with a yellowish glow. At that moment, he knew he had made a mistake.

The sound of a gunshot burst out deafeningly in the corridor. Jorgen stood in the lit area, the only target. The bullet hit the wall beside him, fragments of stone splattered out, and Jorgen felt a stab of pain in his right side. He quickly ducked down, just in time to catch a glimpse of a shadow that did not belong to him appearing behind his right leg. He used the sole of his foot as the center of gravity to quickly turn around, and saw a goblin wielding an axe hacking over.

Jorgen rolled to the right, but did not completely avoid this blow. The goblin's center of gravity and point of attack were both very low, and a person ducking down was also within their range of attack. His axe hacked into Jorgen's belt, knocking the dagger loose and sliding into the unknown darkness, near or far.

I thought they had given up tracking me, what a big mistake. The axe-wielding goblin rushed over again, and at the same time a second bullet was fired, grazing Jorgen's shoulder. The gunman in the dark did not care at all if he accidentally injured his companion. Perhaps for races that would send out suicide squads, talking about protecting companions was meaningless.

Jorgen reached up with his left hand along the wall and felt the iron chains wrapped around the doorknob, pulling hard. The iron door opened, and the hard temple slammed into the rushing goblin's face. Some blood splattered onto Jorgen's hands, more spilled onto the floor. The third bullet was also blocked by the iron door, sparking in the dark.

The goblin with the damaged face collapsed, and Jorgen got hold of his short axe. Very awkward, the axe handle was carved with the emblem of Silversnap's fleet: a merchant ship plowing through the waves head-on, the splashes of water on both sides of the ship turning into the shape of gold coins. Hiding behind the iron door was not a solution, although bullets could not penetrate, Jorgen could not let the enemy escape.

The corridor was curved, so the gunman could not be too far away. According to Jorgen's memory of the way in, the enemy should be about twenty yards away. For the next ten seconds or so, no gunshots rang out. The goblin was also considering how to respond. If he intended to flee, no matter how dangerous, Jorgen could only choose to chase after him.

He looked at the first enemy beside him who was dying.

The goblin gunman twenty yards away judged Jorgen's movements behind the iron door through the shadow cast out by the torch. Silversnap's orders were: "As soon as he gets to the arena, or farther away, shoot him dead immediately." Unfortunately, they had lost track of Jorgen halfway through. Since he was fortunately found again, he could not be allowed to escape.

He decided to take the initiative to approach. As long as the shadow did not move, he was safe.

Approaching the iron door, even if Jorgen suddenly rushed out, the goblin was confident that the advantage was on his side, because Jorgen would have to spend extra time ducking to hack the goblin with that axe. But for the gun-wielding goblin, a close-range human was simply a target that could be hit without much effort.

The goblin moved slowly, holding his gun, not deliberately muffling his footsteps. When about eight yards from the iron door, he noticed that a dark red thick liquid had spilled out of the shadows, covering the torch.

It was his companion's blood. By the time he realized this, the torch had gone out completely and the corridor was dark. He panicked and fired wildly, then turned to try to get away, but it was too late. The axe hacked into his back, snapping his spine in two.

Jorgen did not pull out the axe, he did not need the goblin's weapon. He had been waiting all along, and after estimating that the gunman was close enough, he quickly slit the throat of the first enemy, causing massive bleeding and extinguishing the torch.

He ducked down, trying to find his dagger, but his right leg suddenly erupted in intense pain, almost causing him to fall to the ground. The gunman's last bullet had hit the right leg he had intended to protect well. This fight was really ugly, he thought.