My Last Hunt

[Check out my #WSA story 'The Player's System'] A wicked and greedy hunter who intentionally triggered the broken morgue in search of treasure. He was cursed by the aura of death. Being the high level hunter he was given a chance to cast this curse onto someone else and save himself. He disguised himself in an old woman and stopped a youth walking on the street. To be college student and getting good grades is not enough if you cannot hunt monsters. Bam* “I am your opponent and enemy, you have choice whether to level up or face brutal death in front of your younger sibling. I choose you as my target to sacrifice in place of my mistake and crime. I have offended the ancient sacred soul of Hunter Monarch." “What, why and why in front of younger sibling? How do you know him and who the hell are you?" The youth was forced to drag through the portal and enter in unknown world. (Note: if you are fan of OP MC from the very start of the story then you should not try this.) Author _Sha Story: Original Updates: 2/daily Discord Link: https://discord.gg/U6CHayC

_Sha · Ciudad

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422 Chs

Level Battles 29

They crossed the forest with the normal pace. When Qiao reached near the waterfall he felt the presence of extra force of hunters in the Hunter Association. It was something unusual. In his all previous visits he did not see many native hunters much less affiliated or mission holders.

"Looks like there is something urgent." Qiao murmured and hurried. He fixed his appearance; combed his hair and cleaned the fleece that was covered with the dust. His fleece was expensive and it was made using the skin of level seven monster with the special characteristics.

As soon as he cleaned with the fresh water; it renewed its fine look and shine. Golden maroon streaks were carved with intricacy to make it distinctive from the normal fleeces of the same level. His level token was hung on his chest. His assets and belongings were packed in the leather bag. He kept it always hidden so that none of the hunter caught wind of it.

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