The Vulture’s Hunt

Night had fallen.

The pale glow of the moon filtered through the skeletal branches above, casting eerie shadows across the ravaged forest floor. The wind had grown fiercer, howling like a starving beast as it lashed against Haruka’s skin. He clenched his jaw, suppressing a shiver, but his gaze remained sharp, sweeping the terrain.

Keiji walked beside him, more anxious than usual. He kept glancing over his shoulder, as if Ryosuke’s threat still loomed in the darkness behind them.

“Haruka… do you really think they’ll come after us?”
Keiji’s voice trembled.

Haruka didn’t answer immediately. It was a fair question, but even an honest answer wouldn’t bring any comfort. The truth was, in this world, certainty no longer existed.

“We have to be ready for anything,” he said at last. “If Ryosuke wants us dead, he’ll come. And if it’s not him, it’ll be someone else. There’s no such thing as safety out here.”

Keiji nodded, clearly unsettled by the harsh reality they faced.

They had made camp in a small clearing, well off the beaten path. The ambient noise of the forest might have soothed a lesser soul, but Haruka knew better than to trust the quiet. The war among the Chosen was escalating, and each faction prepared for the inevitable conflict. Their enemies weren’t always visible—some lurked in shadows, biding their time.

Haruka pulled out a broken medallion—the emblem of Ryosuke’s Circle. Destroying it hadn’t been a rash decision, and he knew that. But even the smallest choices in this world came with a cost: the cost of survival, the cost of honor.

Hostile presence detected nearby
Enemy type: Chosen – Circle of Ryosuke
Distance: 50 meters
Mode activated: Tracking

A cold shiver ran down Haruka’s spine.

“We’re not alone,” he whispered.

Keiji froze, eyes wide with fear.

“What? How do you know that?!”

Haruka raised his hand, signaling for silence. He didn’t need his internal system to tell him what his instincts already knew. This sensation—the weight of a gaze pressing down on him—was unmistakable.

Then came a dull thud behind them, followed by a metallic clang.

A figure emerged slowly from the darkness: a tall man, clad in black leather, his face obscured by a metal mask. A long sword glinted in the moonlight at his side.

“So, these are the new recruits,” he murmured, his voice sickly sweet.

Keiji reached for his weapon, but Haruka stopped him with a single motion.

“He’s not an enemy,” Haruka said calmly.

The man stepped forward slowly, no hostility in his posture—but Haruka knew nothing was ever as simple as it seemed in this world. Though his eyes were hidden, his presence was familiar. His aura, unmistakable.

“You’re one of the Chosen, aren’t you?” Haruka asked.

The man smiled beneath the mask.

“Indeed. And you… they’re calling you the Last Wind Chosen now, aren’t they? I wonder how long you’ll last. Not easy surviving with enemies like Ryosuke watching your every move.”

Keiji cast Haruka a nervous glance, but Haruka kept his focus on the man before them.

“What do you want?” Haruka asked firmly, showing no sign of weakness.

The stranger tilted his head slightly, as if amused by Haruka’s defiance.

“No ill intentions, I assure you. Just here to give you a little advice. There are predators in this world. Vultures. And you newcomers... you’re the fresh meat. This world is far crueler than it appears. And some of us… are here to collect what you leave behind.”

He paused, a mocking grin curling beneath the mask.

“Ryosuke—you’ve defied him, haven’t you? Bad move. You’ve no idea how many eyes he’s set on you.”

Keiji jumped to his feet, ready to strike, but Haruka held him back once more.

“And who are you to lecture us?” Haruka demanded. “Another of Ryosuke’s Circle?”

The man let out a cold, joyless laugh.

“No, no. I’m not one of them. I’m just a merchant. A scavenger, if you prefer. I collect what’s left after Ryosuke’s hunts. And you… you’ll be part of the remains soon enough.”

He turned toward Keiji, stepping closer.

“Relax. I didn’t come to kill you. Not yet. But you need to understand something: this war isn’t just about alliances. The weak, the hesitant—they vanish first.”

Haruka’s fist tightened at his side. Merchant. Scavenger. Whatever he called himself, he was a predator like the rest of them—like Ryosuke. All part of the same brutal cycle, where betrayal was the only constant.

“You’ll regret not killing us now,” Haruka muttered, eyes burning with resolve.

The man smirked one last time before fading back into the darkness.

“We’ll see, Last Chosen. We’ll see…”

Haruka turned to Keiji, his gaze now colder, heavier.

“Get ready, Keiji. This isn’t over.”

Keiji didn’t respond. He didn’t need to.

He understood what those words meant.

The hunt had begun.

And this time, there would be no turning back.