One

Alcanver.

A city in between Japan and America.

It was a place where both Japanese and American cultures were mixed together.

But, it was one of the least visited cities by tourists all around the world. For a good reason, too.

This city was home to thousands of groups called Gangs. These Gangs, no matter if it's only four people or an entire army, were like the countless parasites that sucked the blood of an animal.

Well, not all Gangs.

It was on a fine Wednesday, as I walked home from the club I owned, Le Magnifique. The cool breeze flowed through the street, and an abundance of clouds in the sky. I continued my way to the pickup truck my friends and I used. As I did so, there was a ruckus in an alleyway. I took a quiet peek.

"Place your bets! The Roughers versus Dobermans! Who will rise on top? Bet now!" I heard a voice say.

There was a flat arena, the arena being a pile of cardboard, and two people with unsavoury personalities, surrounded by a large crowd. The two people in the middle exchanged fist for fist, kick for kick. It was obvious, the winner would get a quick buck while the loser would need a week or two in the hospital.

Not to start conflict, I strode away from the scene. Just then, I felt a vibration in my coat pocket.

*whirr whirr*

"Yeah?" I put the phone to my ear.

"Annson? It's me, I need some help."

"Chief Wilson, what a surprise."

"There's a hideout, preparing Gangsters to raid one of the military police stations tonight. We need you to eradicate them before they begin their attack."

"Oh, I'm sure you lot can handle it."

" This is Mabuka we're talking about. Their numbers beat us by the dozens."

" Can't you round up a squad or two? Just not them before they hit you." I spoke, walking along the concrete pavement.

"Don't forget our deal. We wrote in blood ,that one."

I remembered. I went to meet the Head of Alcanver Military Police Department, or AMPD for short. I struck a deal with him, asking for immunity against arrest for me and my comrades. He laughed, saying I had a vivid imagination. So, I went to prove I wasn't playing around.

The next day, the news had a bold headline.

"INFAMOUS GANGSTERS, NAMED MADHATTERS FOUND DEAD IN ABANDONED CARPARK, ALL BODIES WERE BURNT TILL BLACK. "

"The police have done an investigation on the mysterious deaths of several known Gang members with allegiance to Mad Hatters, a minor criminal organization. These criminals have committed several crimes, with theft, assault, arson and more in the list. The leader of the group was also found headless for unknown reasons. Police has spoken to do a more thorough investigation. "

I walked into the office of the AMPD Chief,who was talking on his phone. As he looked up with a frustrated face, I plopped down a metal briefcase on his table.

"What's this?"

"My proof for yesterday's request."

He opened the case and revealed a burnt head. In response, he jolted back in his chair.

"Mother of- !" he swore and spat out his cigar.

"Have I gotten your attention now?"

"This... This is... "

"Ten heads of Gangsters, you said yesterday. But I brought a head of a Gang. A violent Gang, at that. "

" But how?" the chief sputtered. "No one could ever- "

I splayed my fingers and activated my Ability. In an instant, my hand was engulfed in orange fire.

/Annson/

Ability: Gift Of The Devil. Allows manipulation and control over fire.

Traits: Mercenary (Hunter), club owner.

"... I see. You're one of the Users."

Ability Users. People with supernatural powers. They can be stronger than normal humans in some aspects. However, some people avoid them because of fear of getting hurt.

"Correct. Well, what's your decision?"

"I could arrest you right here and now."

"Let's not be stupid, yeah?" I said, flickering the flames a little.

"... What do you want?"

Immunity, I said. That my team wouldn't be arrested. In return, I did the MP's dirty work. Soon, my name became as dark as the underworld. I became an Ability User that killed others. Officially, I became a Hunter.

"Hello? Annson, you there?" Wilson's voice on the phone pulled me back from the past.

"Yeah, I'm here. Give me the address. "

"Do this, and I'll make sure you don't get caught. "

The call hung up and I slid my phone back into my jacket pocket. I patted the small bulge under the left side of my jacket, to check if my items were still on my person. I picked up the pace and rushed to the truck.

A Ford F-150 Raptor pickup truck. The heavy-duty vehicle was picked up when a business client had no use for it and decided to gift us. At first, it was nothing but rusty metal, an engine and wheels. So we pitched in and improved it. I got on the truck, fired the engine and went on a mission.

Meanwhile, at the household...

A man with unusually white hair exercised his fingers on a console controller. Shooting imaginary bullets at pixelated enemies while slouching on a comfy sofa was never a bore. At his side, was a customized assault rifle. ACOG scope partnered with slanted iron sights, fast-pull magazines and more accessories than I can ever recognize and memorize.

The LCD screen he was playing video games on suddenly had a notification window on the top right corner. He turned his head towards the window. Pausing the game, he got up and cradled his rifle with him. Hiding beside the window sill, he turned on his phone and accessed the CCTV surveillance system. A group of fierce-looking men, each wielding a gun trudged themselves through dirt paths and foliage.

This place was a literal house on a hill, in the depths of the forest, on the southeast city outskirts. No one in their right mind would want to step at the entrance of the woods, let alone explore. But on some occasions, people with guns tend to go in anyway.

"Another raid, huh." the white-haired man muttered to himself, cocking the assault rifle.

He rushed to the attic without haste, opened a window and climbed up to the roof. Looking through the 4x ACOG scope on his rifle, he spotted the group. The lot of them wore matching dark jackets and cargo pants, with a red bandanna tied around the left elbow.

"Now, where have I seen those outfits...? Ah, yes, The Marauder PMCs. Well, that's flattering. "

This white haired man, called Caleb by those who are close to him, thought for a moment and laid down on the roof tiles. It was perfect as most of his body was protected by the slanted roof and only revealed his head.

*tromp tromp tromp*

The private contractors were closing in by the minute and stopped as soon as the rustic-themed house came into view fully. One of them rustled his pockets and revealed a handful of grenades. He gave one to each of his teammates and prepared to lob them into the house.

"Tough luck. " Caleb muttered again before pulling the trigger.

What happened in the next eight seconds had to be slowed down in the telling so as to be properly understood.

1. He fired a bullet at the cylindrical grenade one of them was holding. The grenade was in fact a sonic banger, a grenade that let out irritating ultrasound frequencies before it blinded enemies with repeated flashes.

2. The bullet pierced through the grenade and was activated earlier than planned, immobilizing the PMCs.

3. Caleb fired off another bullet,this time aimed at a normal fragmentation grenade.

4. The pieces of metal flew in all directions, killing or neutralizing foes.

5. Several other grenades also exploded as they hit by shrapnel.

6. At last, the squad was dealt with.

And all this took 8 seconds and two bullets with extreme focus.