38 38. An Abnormality
Hunter stood his ground, tallying the men encircling him. He refrained from leaping about or flaunting any flashy, funny kung-fu moves; instead, he maintained his posture. In his ears, all he heard were the chimes of the magical book, telling him how much reward there was to be harvested.
'Why ain't they comin' at me?' Hunter pondered, and let go of the young boy he had caught.
"Tire suas roupas e joias!"
"What?" Hunter exclaimed as he whipped out his phone again to translate it, "I ain't got a clue what you're saying."
But there was no point in delaying the matter. Hunter quickly took off his sandals as they hindered his movement and, with a swift whip of his arm, threw it right at the nearest gang member's face.
Bam!
The sole of the sandal left a mark on the man. It took everyone a second to realize what had just happened, and why it happened. Why the heck wasn't this lone man scared of them? Even the police were scared of entering their area, so what gave this white boy so much confidence?
"Haaa!"
Hunter smiled as he got the response he was waiting for. From both his sides, the men swarmed towards him with various types of blades in their hands. The space was tight, and with so many of them running at him, it became even more cramped.
Woosh!
Hunter swiftly dodged a swing right at his neck, stepping back. He wasted no time and curled his fingers into a tight fist.
Bam!
He began punching left and right while dodging at the same time. Every time he struck, it was either the face or the chest, and he let some of his superhuman strength go wild this time.
"Argh!" One got his nose smashed by Hunter's fist and fell back.
"Aaaa!" Another cried when he felt his chest cave in, his ribs breaking apart with an audible crack.
Hunter tried to move the best he could, cornering himself to the wall behind him so he only had to focus on what was ahead and around him. But it was still too much as arms swung at him randomly, some slashing at his legs and some at his arms.
'I ain't spilling any blood.' Hunter noticed how weak the strikes of blades felt on his skin. Each slash felt like a finger scratching his skin, and every straight stab felt like a gentle poke.
Bam!
Hunter felt surrounded and kicked randomly, this time a little too hard. It was dirty and gritty; the men attacking him got pushed back so badly that those at the front got their ribs broken or suffocated underneath their own brothers.
'Fuck, my clothes ain't blade-proof.' Hunter realized how tattered his shirt and shorts were. 'Gotta get out of this crowd.'
The blades clanked profusely. Hunter was surrounded by the men on both sides of the street, each at least a hundred meters long—all filled to the brim with gang members.
Pa!
Hunter started smacking the men left and right on their faces, completely ignoring the blades landing on him. It was a bloody sight as each of them bled from their noses or mouths. But just then, he saw a tall man, even taller than himself.
"Good catch!" Hunter exclaimed, lunging for that man and diving onto the heads of the horde of men. He almost swam over their bodies no matter how much they slashed and stabbed at him. In no time, he reached the tall man and grabbed him by the collar. "You're gonna be my shield."
"Haaa!" Hunter wasted no time and slammed his shoulder at the tall man's chest and started pushing into the crowd uphill. His legs were absurdly strong because of magic, and it seemed he had inherited the Berserker physique as well.
Bam!
Bam!
No doubt, the tall man wasn't going to make it in one piece. His own brothers stabbed him in an attempt to stop Hunter. But no matter what, Hunter didn't stop and, like a bulldozer, walked over the falling gang members, forging himself a path.
He didn't stop until he reached all the way to the uphill end of the huge mob.
Finally, he turned around and took a look, his breath barely heavy. There were still a good number of them left standing, and others were slowly getting up and preparing to fight him. However, they no longer looked cocky.
Thud!
Hunter dropped the tall man, already unconscious from all the beating he received on the way up.
"Alright now, come on over and get yourself a taste of my knuckle sandwich." Hunter taunted them, raising his hands with his fist closed.
However, nobody came running at him this time. Instead, they all looked at each other's faces as if asking who was going to go first. The groaning cries of others who got their bodies broken and their faces caved in were deafening.
"I ain't got all day," Hunter said and started walking toward them.
Bam!
Hunter smacked the first man with the back of his hand. The impact was strong enough that he was thrown to the side, his head slamming into a door frame and cracking it.
'Better not kill 'em.' Hunter reduced some strength and walked further in.
Pa!
Bam!
He either slapped or smacked them. What annoyed him was that many of them didn't give him Trash Point anymore, meaning they had already been hit before. But he didn't want to miss and kept going. Smashing and throwing them left and right like ragdolls—Like a big gorilla throwing around small monkeys.
Clank!
Soon enough, they all gained some courage and started crowding him again. But he was much faster this time and didn't let any of them get behind him. He kept kicking them, punching them, and lifting them to throw around like a constant supply of cannonballs.
[Reward Sent: 5 Trash Points]
[Reward Sent: 5 Trash Points]
[Reward Sent: 5 Trash Points…]
Hunter heard the notifications start chiming again, and felt bolstered by it.
"Haaa…" Two gang members came all of a sudden and grabbed both of his legs, trying to lift him off the ground.
"Seriously?" Hunter sent a hand chop toward their napes and knocked them out before they could even move him. Hunter seriously felt no threat anymore, not even exhaustion. The stakes in Revroth were so high that this couldn't compare to it.
His sock-covered feet stepped on the knocked-out men or groaning gang members as he constantly kept moving forward. Both his hands punched a different man each time, sometimes even hitting the machetes directly, only to bend the blades.
Finally, almost half an hour had passed by the time Hunter reached the lower end of the tight street. Only one man was left standing before him, while behind him was a road that was entirely covered in bodies—not a speck of asphalt was visible.
"Leve-me até seu líder." Hunter repeated the translator app's words again.
After all, although he had beaten a lot of goons, none of them had given him Trash Points more than five at a time. They were all small fries.
Clank!
The man let his machete fall to the ground and raised his hand in surrender. "Okay… okay… I-I take."
Hunter nodded, and carefully watched as the man, short and thin in body, walked around him and headed towards the uphill side of the street. He carefully placed his feet in places without groaning people and walked all the way beyond the last body.
However, Hunter stopped at the end as the tall man still lay there, knocked out. He quickly took the man's shoes and wore them.
"Let's go," Hunter once again pushed the man forward.
It all felt like a maze. They arrived at the end of the street, a single door was there in front of them. But once they entered, they climbed a flight of stairs and walked from one terrace to another, sometimes entering a different building.
The turns, climb, and descent all felt random, but the fear in his "hostage's" face was clear.
'How many Trash Points did I earn?' Hunter walked behind the man, so he summoned the book immediately and looked at how many Trash Points he had. 'Ah, still short of one-eighty.'
[...Attribute Points: 0 (1320/1500 Trash Points)...]
Sighing, he continued to follow the man and eventually entered a side door into a compound of what he reckoned was a big mansion. There was a green lawn all around with tall palm trees everywhere.
"Americano."
Hunter heard his hostage speaking. He peaked a look ahead from the side of his body and noticed five men in the distance, all visibly armed with assault rifles in their hands.
'Now we're entering the real enemy territory.' Hunter kept himself calm and composed, already having thought of a dozen ways to escape if needed.
"Sem máscara!"
The five men suddenly stopped Hunter and started speaking to him nonstop. Their words eluded Hunter, but as they kept pointing at his face, he understood their meaning.
"Mask?" Hunter took it off quickly, and the five shut up immediately. They patted his body everywhere after that, checking for weapons, and then finally let him pass into the main section of the mansion.
'Looks pretty luxurious.' Hunter noticed the view of the city as he climbed the stairs behind his hostage. 'Gotta be a decently powerful boss.'
Hunter hoped this boss would give him a good enough amount of Trash Points. If he could get one Attribute Point, he felt the trip to Brazil would be worth it.
"Americano."
Hunter soon found himself entering a spacious hall, adorned with lush flower plants along the edges. The floor gleamed with polished marble, and the men surrounding him exuded a sense of dignity, far removed from the usual street thugs. Wearing loose shirts, their handguns were visibly tucked into their pants.
Hunter was patted all over once again, and eventually, he was ushered into the room. Behind him, four men also entered, now guns out.
'He saw everything.' The first thing Hunter noticed inside the spacious office room was the right wall with four sixty-inch flat screens, showing live camera feeds from all the streets and corners, one clearly showing the horde of men littered throughout a narrow alley.
"Who are you, American? Why come here and make trouble?"
Hunter heard the heavy accented English and looked towards the big office table, behind which a single office chair lay with its back towards him. The scent of cigarettes was heavy all around, the ashtray on the table was full.
"Well, I wanted to slap you once," Hunter replied, looking left and right to assess how wealthy this man was and, accordingly, guess how big of a leader he was.
"Funny." The chair turned around, revealing a tanned man rising from it. He stood a tad shorter than Hunter, with a slight paunch and caramel-colored skin. A scruffy black beard adorned his face, and his receding hairline was evident.
The man walked around his table, and just as he approached Hunter, the four men behind raised their guns at Hunter's head.
"Give me a reason to not kill you here and now."
All of a sudden, Hunter's jaw tightened, his eyes widened, and his eyes locked not on the man's face but on his waist. Only he could hear it, a 'ting!' and words that raised so many questions.
Ting!
[TIM Alert: Abnormal Aura Infused Gun Detected!]
