New weapon

Damon was caught off guard.

He had been drowsy ever since she bit that feral. Ever since he bit the feral, he had been flooded with the memories of the human before he succumbed to darkness, along with everyone he had ever bitten.

During their journey from the Yellowstone mine to the cave's mouth, he could feel something—or someone—chasing them, lurking in the in-between. He was still in the probationary period. He couldn't afford to engage in a fight, not with his team around. After all, once he dealt with the threat, Ariel's team would be hunting him down.

He thought about it. And snarled to warn them of the imminent danger.

The demi-vampire had been stalking them for a while. Damon could feel its eyes fixated on him. So, when the attack came, Damon had already discreetly slipped away.

If his calculations were correct, Ariel's team would be enough to handle the demi-vampire. He wasn't needed there. Not now. Not yet.

Once outside the shelter, Damon realized that waiting near the fight was unwise. So, he shifted into his bat form and headed back to the shelter alone.

As he nestled into the comfort of Ariel's bed, she was embroiled in a bloody battle with the demi-vampire. Damon, feeling content and safe, had even managed a nice little nap. He was energized, ready to greet her with a smile. But what he received in return was anything but warmth.

Without warning, his holy body was tossed out like trash, kicked into the cold without a shred of mercy.

Presumptuous!

Damon cried out in his heart, but all that came out was a squeak.

Violet, who happened to be passing by, picked him up. "Oh, you're finally back. We all thought we lost you," she said, addressing the hamster he had shifted into.

The hamster squeaked again and again, as if trying to convey its complaints.

"And what are you doing out here in this cold? Ariel would be thrilled to see you," Violet murmured.

The squeaking grew louder, and its whiskers drooped downward in defeat.

"She won't?" Violet glanced toward Ariel's room and back at the hamster. "Don't tell me... she's the one who threw you out."

Another squeak, its eyes welling up with unshed tears.

Violet sighed, cradling the hamster in her arms. "You two... Ariel does have quite a temper. You must've really done something to piss her off like this," she said, her voice softening. "Don't worry, I'll take care of you for now. We'll figure out how to send you back to her."

The next morning, Ariel woke up to find a hamster sitting by her bedside, surrounded by freshly picked berries. Its whiskers drooped, and in its eyes, there was a flicker of hope. It looked as if it were saying, 'I'm sorry, please take me back.'

Ariel raised an eyebrow. "That's a lot of berries." She looked at the hamster with curiosity. "And these aren't from inside. Did you actually go outside the shelter to gather them for me?"

The hamster squeaked three times, nodding vigorously, eager to take credit.

Ariel sighed, her expression softening. "Alright, I'll take them." She accepted the berries, examining them carefully. "If you went through all that trouble to gather them, there must be a reason you abandoned us back at the cave."

Damon, who had been enjoying the berries in Violet's care, squeaked, 'Of course I went outside! I spent hours picking these for you!'

After accepting the berries, Ariel gently placed the hamster on her lap, stroking its soft fur. She fell into thought, her fingers absentmindedly combing through the little creature's fur.

"I have you to thank for us getting the blueprints," she murmured, her voice heavy with gratitude. "Our shelter may lack strength, but once those blueprints are put to good use, no pureblood will escape us."

The hamster tensed, its expression unreadable.

Ariel continued, "If only Marcus were the leader..." Her tone shifted, a hint of frustration seeping into her words. Viktor was more of a political strategist, always playing it safe, but Marcus had always pushed them to strengthen themselves, to prepare for the day purebloods found them.

Ariel noted her reward points.

"I have enough now to buy a nice weapon," she muttered to herself, as though a weight had been lifted.

She got up, placing the hamster back in the shelter before brushing her teeth, combing her hair, and changing into her usual attire. After a light breakfast, she headed straight for the shelter market.

In the firearms section, Ariel scanned the displays. There were guns made from various materials: from ordinary metals to magical alloys. Some had been enchanted with spells to enhance precision or lighten their weight. She knew her next mission would demand better gear.

The previous fight had made it painfully clear: she barely survived.

Her fingers traced the shape of a pair of small, sleek black guns.

"This will work well with UV bullets," the stall attendant said, eyeing Ariel knowingly. She was a regular, and the attendant had heard of her reputation. She didn't miss a beat and brought out the topic of UV bullets.

"Has the shelter managed to perfect the technique?" Ariel asked, intrigued.

"We've been working on it for a while. The first batch of UV bullets will arrive today," the attendant replied.

She nodded. "These guns are for UV bullets. They use smaller, weightless ones where precision is key. We also have heavier guns for larger bullets, but they're less efficient. Smaller ones cost less, saving you credits for other gear."

"I'll take a pair of these," Ariel decided, her mind made up. She was swift, light, and precise. She didn't need heavier weaponry right now.

"For distance combat, they'll do."

Next, Ariel turned her attention to close combat. She had a rusty knife, but after dealing with that in-between thing, it was practically useless. She needed something better.

In the close combat section, her eyes wandered over shiny steel knives, swords of all sizes, daggers, and tantos. The selection was impressive, but Ariel knew she wasn't ready for a sword. That kind of weapon required dedication, training, and commitment. She wasn't there yet.

Her hand lingered on a familiar dagger, one she had seen before.

"This one's the most expensive," the attendant explained. "Made of steel, it's designed with werewolves in mind. It's small, easily concealable, and effective as a last-resort weapon."

Ariel's mind flashed back to the moment when Elias had pinned her down, and she had used the rusty knife as a desperate measure. She'd barely escaped with her life.

Her tactics had always been to keep enemies at a distance, using ranged combat as her first line of defense. But when they closed in, she needed something to fall back on.

"That will do," Ariel decided. The dagger was small, discreet, and deadly when wielded with precision.

As she picked it up, she couldn't help but wonder what awaited her in the coming days. She was no longer just a survivor—she was becoming something more, something far stronger.