Mysterious Hunting Ground

Chapter 99 99. Consider
early morning.

A two-story house on South Street in Las Vegas.

Looking inward through the window, under the dim light, a kind-faced silver-haired old man is listening attentively to a story told by a young black-haired young man beside the sofa.

The young man spoke very slowly, considering every word, his voice was sometimes excited, sometimes cold, and his bloodshot eyes were shining with excitement and bewilderment.

And the old man held a brand new tome, turned the pages of the white book, and while listening, transformed the story into beautiful words and lifelike patterns.

a long time.

The old man put down his pen, rested his elbows on the table, crossed his fingers, and rested his chin.

"The world is endless, unsolved mysteries one after another, nocturnal species, Midian, I have never heard of it, so I'm sorry, I can't tell you where Midian is."

She raised her glasses and looked at Dean who was thinking on the other side of the sofa.
"But in the past, there must have been many nocturnal species that left Midian and multiplied with humans all over the world, leaving blood, and gradually formed teams of hunters."

"There will always be some hunters who have information about their ancestors and their hometown."

"Find them, and you'll find Midian."

Dean nodded,

"I don't understand...Westen said it violated the iron law, so it was driven out of Midian. What is its so-called iron law?"

"You can try to think about it." Tribeca said, "There is such a place where there are a large number of monsters with deformed appearance living in seclusion. They are made of steel and iron, their speed and strength far exceed ordinary people, and they have various dangerous abilities."

"But there are so few legends about them that almost no one knows about them. There's only one thing that can lead to this."

Dean turned his eyes and interjected,
"Midian forbids them to leave the vicinity, forbids them to harm humans, and may not even allow them to communicate with humans,"

Tribeca smiled approvingly, "That's right. Only by being isolated from the world can Midian survive safely. Otherwise, the human army would have wiped out this large group of monsters long ago."

Dean nodded.

Judging from his current experience alone, no matter how powerful the monster is, it can only be wiped out in the face of the nuclear weapons mastered by humans.

If they want to survive, they must "rely on others" in a low-key and honest manner.

Dean took out the golden invitation card with the cutout again, and handed it over, "Do you know this invitation card?"

Tribeca looked at it for a long time with reading glasses, shook her head,

"Maybe it's something new? I'm such an oldie, I can't understand it."

……

The lights flickered, and the soft morning light outside the window gradually brightened.

The old and the young discussed for a while, trying to complete the description of the nocturnal species as much as possible.

Tribeca finally closed the tome with satisfaction and handed it to Dean,

"The last time the Death Eaters and this time the Nocturnal Clan were only two or three months apart. The frequency of your encounters with supernatural creatures is frighteningly high, so I prepared a separate collection for you in advance."

"It will faithfully record all the supernatural creatures you have come into contact with before, now, and in the future. You can check them at any time. And please rest assured that your real identity will not appear in the book."

"Then it's up to you."

Dean stroked the exquisite hardcover book cover, feeling a faint sense of accomplishment in his heart. After traveling for more than half a year, three supernatural beings died in his hands.

He should be considered a qualified monster hunter.

"By the way, you've been in a bad state since you entered the house...Have you suffered from insomnia recently?" Tribeca put down the book and swept his bloodshot eyes with dark circles. "If you have any troubles, please tell me."

Dean fell silent.

After leaving the Stone family's manor, he seemed to be under some kind of curse. As soon as he fell asleep, he would dream of cruel and bloody eating scenes of the Stone family, snake-haired men, including the former Death Eater.

His own face was also mixed with these bloody faces.

Moreover, the last poem that the snake-haired man read popped out of his mind from time to time, which made him often in a trance during the day.

Dean began to wonder if these supernatural monsters were all wielding some sort of spiritual curse cast upon dying.

"I'm just a little too tired."

"Rest well, don't push yourself too hard."

"Well, take care of yourself."

……

Dean left the house and got into the car, intending to form another face, put on a black windbreaker and black wide-brimmed hat, and drove south, preparing to continue the unfinished business of the past few days.

……

A dilapidated two-story western-style building in the South City of Las Vegas.

"Give me another month." A blond woman in a thin red sweater pleaded into the phone, "Next month, the rent will not be less."

"NO! For the sake of your orphans and widows, I have made an exception to extend your stay for half a year, and you have been exempted from rent for three months." A helpless male voice came from the phone, "But I am also a poor person. If you want to support your wife and children, I have always been considerate of you, who will be considerate of me!"

"The rent must be paid in full tomorrow, or I will move out!"

"I can't, please."

"It's not negotiable this time."

"For your brother's sake, help me again!" the woman begged,

"His face? Penny, there is something I didn't tell you."

The male voice on the phone was furious, "Amos owed me three thousand dollars before he disappeared. I didn't ask you to pay it back, and let you live in the house for so long. It's the best of humanity. I beg you, move out."

beep...beep...

The woman hung up the phone, walked back to the hall in a daze, picked up the giggling son in the stroller, rubbed his smooth little face, and sobbed wearily.

"I'm so tired, I can't bear it any longer. Where did your cruel father go?"

"Bang, bang..."

"Bang, bang..."

There was a sudden knock on the door.

Penny's expression changed, she wiped her tears with her sleeves, put down the child, and trotted over to open the door.

"who are you?"

The glare of the sun illuminated a stranger with a briefcase at the door.

He was slender and straight under a black windbreaker, and he also wore a black wide-brimmed hat, covering most of his face with sunglasses and a mask.

The man's magnetic and steady voice sounded.

"Ma'am, do you know Amos Milson?"

Penny pursed her lips, her prematurely aging face turned pale,
"He is my husband. He has been missing for a year. If you come to him for debts, I'm sorry, I don't have a coin. I owe half a year's rent and I have to raise children. For God's sake, don't make things difficult for me. "

"You misunderstood." The man opened the black briefcase and took out a pack of brown paper, and handed it over, "Jack lent me some money before, and now that he is missing, the money belongs to you."

The woman opened her mouth wide, and her red eyes shone with incredible light. She knew exactly what kind of virtue her husband was, and he would go drinking every time he was paid, leaving only a meager living allowance for poor little Jack.

Asking him to lend money to outsiders, the probability is lower than winning the lottery!

But the woman didn't clarify, she gritted her teeth and reached out to take the kraft paper bag, glanced into the bag, and exclaimed - two beautiful green knives.

"Take the money away, and I will give you another suggestion from the bottom of my heart, look ahead."

The man pressed the brim of his hat, turned and left,

"After paying off the debt, take the children out of this place and start a new life."

"Wait, sir, what should I call you, and how can I contact you in the future?"

The man waved his hand without looking back, and disappeared behind the woods after a few strides.

……

On the side of the road, Dean got back into the car, took off his mask, took out a piece of chocolate from the bag full of high-calorie snacks on the passenger side, ate to calm himself down, then took out his notebook and crossed out the name of Amos Milson on it .

Before this name, remember ten names, half of which are crossed out, and the other half are marked with question marks.

After leaving the manor, Dean visited the addresses on the photo one by one, but only contacted a very small number of families of the victims, and quickly sent out [-] dollars.

More than half of the rest can't be found, and these are just the tip of the iceberg of the Stone family's atrocities, and [-]% of the dead are completely submerged in history.

"I've done what I have to do."

Dean's bloodshot eyes glanced at the winding road outside the car window. It was a bit foolish to give the money away thanklessly.

"I am a human being, not a saint, but I must never lose the bottom line and principles and become a 'monster'."

Dean muttered to himself, his eyes became firm again.

"The rest of the photos will be anonymously sent to Lvpd, so that the police can help the victims collect debts from the Stone family."

As for the rest of the money, he intended to keep it for himself.

In this way, his savings can reach an astonishing 11 cash plus one hundred gold bars.

But the money came from a wrong source, and Dean didn't dare to deposit it in the bank, lest he be surrounded by the IRS (Internal Revenue Service).

……

Putting this matter to rest, Dean came to the fighting field shooting range.

After swiping a face card, he came to the shooting lane with a bunch of firearms, held the Colt tightly with both hands, aimed at a fixed chest target 50 meters away and pulled the trigger continuously.

Bang bang bang!
The bullet burst through the air, and the shell case was thrown away.

The target pierced holes.

There was almost no vibration in his hands, as stable as a steel frame.

After emptying the two magazines, Dean exhaled,
"None of the twelve rounds missed the target, and eight rounds hit the vital area."

"I finally hit the bullet."

After practicing the pistol, Dean switched to the fully automatic AR-15.

The shooting skills are miraculously comprehensive. As soon as he got the rifle, the lv2 shooting poured a lot of knowledge about rifle shooting into Dean's mind.

Prone position, sitting position without support, side position, supine position, kneeling position...

And once it is used, it is as familiar as if you have practiced rifle shooting for a year or two without interruption.

Dean took a deep breath and raised the rifle in a standing position.

Stand with feet parallel to shoulder width apart.

Lift the gun with the whole body relaxed: shoulder, grip, hold the gun, touch the hip, stick the cheek.

Right eye, target hole, front sight, three points and one line aiming, steady breathing, high concentration, experience the law of the shaking of firearms.

Da da da.

The sound of gunfire was like thunder, and the thrown bullet casings formed a line.

The muzzle of the black hole spewed flames.

The pale smoke brought out a strong smell of gunpowder.

The target 100 meters away was shaking non-stop as if receiving continuous electric shocks, and a large number of bullet holes emerged.

After a quarter of an hour the gunfire ceased.

Dean rubbed his slightly sore wrist and nodded with satisfaction.

The middle-level iron man supports, even if he uses the rifle for a long time, he is as stable as an old dog. The gun only shakes in a very small range, and he perfectly grasps the firing rhythm.

In addition, the shooting is upgraded to lv2 to gain 1 point of perception. His vision was about 1.3 before, but now it is close to 2.0.

Plus improvements in agility and strength.

His shooting level has made leaps and bounds.

But compared to firearms, "Shadows of the Past" is Dean's biggest killer, where he has the confidence to fight supernatural existence.

"Wait for the lv1 meditation to be upgraded to lv2, which improves the will and stabilizes the state, and then adds the upgraded attribute points to the spirit to strengthen the shadow of the past."

...

"Shoot the little prince, how many hundred shots have you fired today?"

The range owner, Sandrei Novanov, stepped forward to look at the target in the distance, and extended his hand to him.

"Generally, about [-] rounds." Dean shook hands with him lightly,

"I've been in the shooting range for so many years, and I've never seen someone as hardworking as you. After half a year of crazy training, not only didn't he lose his hand, but his level skyrocketed to the level of a five or six-year veteran." Andre joked in amazement. , "Tell me, you are so desperate, is there a monster chasing after you?"

"Yes, vampires, werewolves, and ghouls are stressing me out, so I need fire support," Dean asked with a relaxed smile, "Can you provide me with a Desert Eagle?"

In these two battles, Dean has clearly felt that the M1911a1, or even the semi-automatic rifle, is not enough to deal with supernatural monsters. He urgently needs powerful weapons.

"Desert Eagle? I've heard about it...but it's currently under development." Andre shook his head. "It will be at least two or three years before the public sale."

Dean sighed. Apart from the Desert Eagle, his favorite super pistol is Smith & Wesson's M500, which is close enough to kill a brown bear and powerful enough to make a supernatural being drink a pot.

It's a pity that in the 80s, this thing was not born either.

"If you like powerful pistols, then I recommend you buy a Pfeifer Zeliska revolver for your collection. I can recommend a store for you if necessary."

Dean's heart moved, "Why have I never heard of this thing? Is it very powerful?"

"Power? It claims to be the most powerful pistol in the world, but it's not very practical." The man touched his big nose. "Its weight is several times that of a normal revolver, and its size is not smaller than that of a rifle. It can only be used in the oldest way, slowly. Load five special bullets in a hurry. Both it and the special bullets are expensive."

Dean quietly eliminated this thing in his heart. If the pistol is too big and has no concealment, he might as well bring a rifle and a shotgun.

...

"Andre, do you sell guns yourself?"

"You're asking the wrong person. I run a shooting range and don't sell guns. If you want to buy a gun, you should go to an outdoor supply store, a gun store, or Wal-Mart."

"Regular places won't sell what I want." Dean stared into the man's eyes, "I want to buy fully automatic ones, as well as sniper rifles and explosives. You must have access to this. You can't give faithful Is it convenient for a client to add a spokesperson?"

"Why are you buying these things? Don't talk about monsters with me," Andre looked with his hands on his hips,

"I like firearms, can't I buy them for collection?"

Andre rubbed the beard of his chin and thought for half a minute,
"There have been too many major cases in Las Vegas during this period, and the control of firearms has become very strict. My shooting range has been inspected repeatedly, and it is inconvenient to get the goods. Well, when your uncle Paque returns, the limelight should pass Well, when the time comes, you can choose any gun you want, but I don’t do charity, remember to bring enough money.”

(End of this chapter)