Hunting and Monsters

After the walkie-talkie fell silent, Lin An tossed it aside and bent down to rip the rifle sling off the short gunman.

It was an M4 carbine, or more accurately, a civilian AR-15. It was originally semi-automatic, but a third hole had been drilled into the lower receiver and the entire fire control group had been replaced, allowing for full-auto fire.

Such modifications certainly carried risks, but for the moment, it solved some of Lin An's problems, so he slung the rifle over his shoulder and scavenged three magazines, stuffing them all into his pockets.

Then he stood up and looked toward the end of the corridor.

The Black man was still there.

He was crouching behind a pile of rusted sheet metal, his pistol held above his head, the muzzle pointed in Lin An's direction, but he was huddled so low that only the top of his forehead and two wide, staring eyes were visible.

[This guy is scared.]

[I can see his legs shaking.]

Lin An waved at him.

The Black man didn't move.

Lin An waved again.

The Black man slowly stood up, the muzzle still pointed at Lin An, but his finger was off the trigger... that was a good sign; it meant he still had some brains left.

He hunched over and jogged over, his sneakers crunching on the broken glass like he was stepping on a bag of potato chips.

Once he was close, Lin An finally saw his face clearly.

The man looked at least thirty, with a face full of stubble, deep forehead wrinkles, and drooping eyes.

"You want to live..."

"Bro, you killed people, I killed people... okay, I didn't kill anyone, I fired but missed, but that's not the point. The point is those morons want to kill everyone here. You help me, and you're helping the protagonist."

He spoke very quickly, like a car with failed brakes rushing down a hillside.

"First, my name is Darnell Washington. Second, thank you for saving me, and also..."

He held up three fingers and waved them in front of Lin An.

"Can you give me that shotgun? You already have a rifle, and I only have a pistol that doesn't shoot straight. It's not fair, you know what I mean?"

Lin An looked at him without speaking, the barrage of comments scrolling wildly.

[Holy crap, a stand-up comedy master.]

[This guy's mouth is really fast.]

[Take him out.]

[Sigh, everyone in the chat is so talented. You guys all understand English, what am I supposed to do if I don't?]

[To the guy above, didn't you turn on the AI subtitle feature?]

Darnell waited for two seconds, then continued the conversation himself.

"OK, you won't give it to me, I get it. A stranger asking for a weapon in the middle of a gunfight, any normal person would hesitate... but you have to know, I'm not a normal person. I'm the calmest, wittiest, most..."

A burst of gunfire suddenly erupted in the distance, three shots, rhythmic, like someone beating a drum.

Darnell's voice cut off abruptly.

"Go, go, go!"

Darnell grabbed Lin An's arm and started to run.

"That way, go that way! There's an exit over there, we're running that way!"

"Wait a second..."

"Wait for what!"

Darnell was already dragging Lin An along, his sneakers slipping on the floor.

"Do you know what kind of gun that is? An AR-15! I hated that gun when I played Call of Duty, one shot and you're dead, you know what I mean!"

Lin An was dragged into a stumble, the shotgun in his hand nearly falling. He wanted to shake off the man's hand, but this guy's strength was ridiculously high... beneath that weathered face might be a body built from years of manual labor.

"There are people blocking the path ahead, we'll die if we go there!"

"Really!?"

Darnell stopped in astonishment.

"How do you know that?"

Lin An glanced at the barrage on the left.

[Five gunmen are hiding up ahead.]

[Two are catching up from behind, separated by two walls.]

[Three are flanking from the right.]

Lin An handed the AR-15 he was carrying to Darnell, then tossed him the three magazines as well.

"Find a place to hold your ground, don't run around. I'm going hunting."

With that, Lin An turned and headed back the way he came.

Darnell looked down at the AR-15 shoved into his hands, then back up at Lin An's retreating figure as he vanished into the darkness.

"Wait, what do you mean by 'hunting'? You're going hunting? What kind of prey is there? Rats? Raccoons? Or..."

Lin An had already disappeared into the dark.

Returning to the original spot, the tall man's corpse was still there, his weapon pinned beneath him. Lin An flipped the body over; it was an AMD-65, a short-barreled version of the AKM. It was a Hungarian-made short-barreled assault rifle, military-grade, capable of full-auto fire without any modifications.

It was a good gun, but unfortunately, due to its heavy recoil, it wasn't suitable for Lin An right now.

Even so, he picked up the rifle and scavenged the five magazines from the corpse, then found himself in a dilemma.

Lin An already had a shotgun and a pistol, and his load was near its limit. Carrying this assault rifle and five fully loaded magazines would consume a massive amount of stamina just to walk.

Noticing Lin An's hesitation, someone in the live stream chat offered a suggestion.

[Look at your interface, there's a Live Stream Store in the top right corner. You can place items there and take them out when you need them.]

Lin An saw it and opened the Live Stream Store.

Time was tight, so he took a quick look. The function was exactly as the chat described: viewers could redeem points for items in the store, and as for where the points came from, they were likely generated by donations.

With no time to overthink, Lin An focused his mind. The AMD-65 and the five magazines in his hands vanished. Then, he made the AMD-65 appear again, followed by making it vanish once more.

Hey, it actually worked.

Lin An then conveniently placed his shotgun and Ruger .22 Pistol into the store. Taking items out of the store was far more convenient than manually switching weapons or digging for ammo.

Once prepared, Lin An held his breath, lightened his footsteps, and under the guidance of the chat, crept into the dark corners of the abandoned factory, actively closing in on the nearest enemies.

The abandoned factory covered a vast area and was pitch black. It was filled with all sorts of clutter—abandoned, rusted machinery and makeshift shanties built between the machines and walls—making the environment incredibly complex.

The unidentified armed men had been slaughtering people here without restraint, yet they hadn't truly wiped out all the residents hiding in the shadows.

As he moved through the dark, the chat told Lin An one by one where the dangers were, where a living drifter was hiding, and where he could slide past a rusted stamping press to avoid the defensive traps set by the locals.

The sound of rifle fire suddenly erupted from the distance, followed by Darnell's high-pitched cursing.

Clearly, he had been discovered, and he was now fighting for his life.

Lin An didn't care about the life of this guy; even if he ignored orders, ran around, and got himself killed, Lin An wouldn't care, nor would he stop this fun game.

"Boom!"

Two gunmen were hurrying toward the area where the gunfire had originated when the muzzle flash of a shotgun suddenly appeared from their flank.

One of them was struck by the 12-gauge buckshot, collapsed to the ground, and fell silent instantly.

The other gunman, a black man who hadn't been hit, spun around with lightning speed. Even as his submachine gun was still swinging, he opened fire, unleashing a fan-shaped spray of bullets toward the source of the attack. They struck the cast-iron base of the stamping press, sending a shower of sparks flying, while ricochets left white gouges on the wall.

The gunman's submachine gun had a high rate of fire; in less than two seconds, he had emptied the magazine, ending with a dull metallic "clink."

Feeling the weapon go empty, the gunman immediately turned and hid behind a wall. He peeked out with one eye to observe the situation while frantically changing magazines.

At that moment, the walkie-talkie on the black man's shoulder crackled to life.

"Deshawn, what's the situation?"

"Marquis is dead... someone is firing at us with a shotgun!"

The black gunman roared in terror.

"I need help... damn it, I just sprayed him, but I didn't hit anything, he..."

"Pop... pop!"

Two crisp pistol shots rang out from behind, causing the black gunman, who was still nervously observing the outside, to drop dead instantly. The walkie-talkie still in his hand emitted a burst of static.

"Deshawn... Deshawn!"

Lin An picked up the walkie-talkie and stored it in the store. He didn't know how to use it, but he could let the viewers redeem it; it was a way to put waste to good use.

In the abandoned factory, Lin An was like a fish returning to the river. He carried his gun in one hand, pacing through the darkness and the gaps.

He never appeared in front of the gunmen; instead, he would strike from their flanks or behind, firing a single shotgun blast to kill one, then turning to step into a nearby piece of cover. After dodging the enemy's retaliatory fire, he would circle around to their rear and finish them off with two shots from the Ruger .22 Pistol.

Lin An wouldn't fire a second shotgun blast near the gunmen because the mechanical "clack" of the pump-action on his Remington M870 was too loud and would reveal his position.

The Ruger .22 Pistol, however, didn't have this problem; it was a semi-automatic, and its report was relatively quiet.

Even though many people said the .22 bullet lacked stopping power—that if you hit someone in the torso, they could still jump around and even fire back—no matter how small the caliber, it could still kill.

Lin An fired the Ruger .22 at the gunmen at close range, hitting the chest area first to stop the target from moving, then firing a second shot to the head for a lethal kill.

The sounds of the shotgun and the .22 pistol echoed throughout the abandoned factory, and every time they rang out, someone died.

Darnell huddled in a room.

Calling it a "room" was being generous; it was likely an old factory guard station. The four walls were still standing, but the door had been shot until only half remained. The interior was covered in wood splinters and feces left behind by drifters, making for a "pleasant" environment.

Darnell crouched in the corner, his back pressed against the wall, knees pulled to his chest, with the AR-15 resting across his legs, the muzzle pointed toward the half-door.

His posture looked quite professional... if you ignored the fact that he was shaking all over.

The gunfire outside rang out again.

"Boom."

The noise didn't sound far away, possibly just behind the row of machines next door.

Darnell's body jerked, his head nearly hitting the wall, which made him grip his gun even tighter, his finger trembling outside the trigger guard.

"OK."

He whispered to himself.

"Another one dead, it's the retard who died. It must be the retard who died, because bro is the hunter, and the retard is the prey, and hunters don't die, hunters are... hunters are unkillable, Darnell, you know what I mean?"

Gunshots rang out again, two this time... pop, pop.

The sound of .22 caliber rounds firing, like someone hammering nails.

"Two more."

Darnell counted.

"First one in the chest, second one in the head, so cool, just like a hitman in the movies, he must have had no expression on his face when he pulled the trigger... no expression at all, you know what I mean?

A normal person should have some kind of expression when talking about killing, right? At least a smile? Or a frown? He had nothing, just like he was talking about how shrimp chips need to be fried for three minutes."

He stopped and swallowed hard.

"Stepdad said, the scariest people aren't the ones who shout and scream, it's the ones who don't say anything at all, those are the ones who kill the most ruthlessly..."

Gunshots rang out again, closer this time, in the corridor right next to the room, a blast from a shotgun, and a minute later, two .22 shots.

Darnell's mouth snapped shut.

He curled into a ball, forehead pressed against his knees, the gun sliding off his lap and hitting the floor with a "clack," and he hurriedly grabbed it back, hugging it to his chest while keeping it pointed at the door.

"I am Darnell Washington, I am the coolest brother in New York..."

Darnell rambled on, unaware of when the gunfire outside had stopped.

After a long while, the walkie-talkie he had scavenged from a gunman's corpse crackled to life, and even though Darnell had turned the volume down, it was still clear in the quiet factory.

"...who's still alive?"

Silence.

"Who's still... answer me..."

Still silence, and after a moment, the man on the walkie-talkie swallowed, a sound Darnell heard clearly, and then, the man spoke.

"Boss, you must have heard, my men are all dead, I'm getting out of here... release the dog you brought, tear that bastard to pieces!"

"How many gunmen left? One, running away?"

In a corner of the factory complex, Lin An asked the chat while reloading the Remington shotgun in his hands.

After adapting over this period, he was now familiar with the handgun and shotgun in his hands, shooting with decent form, able to hit a human-sized target within three to ten meters, and he was also familiar with the viewers behind the chat, knowing they could not only observe his surroundings from a 360-degree angle without blind spots, but could also see through walls into the distance.

And this further range was roughly between fifty and eighty meters; how far exactly, the viewers typing the chat couldn't even say, let alone Lin An.

Fortunately, through the battles during this time, the viewers had initially learned to use the chat to make things more convenient for Lin An.

For instance, if they spotted a gunman, they would use a box made of line-based chat messages to circle him; the box moving meant the gunman was walking, the box enlarging meant he was coming toward Lin An, and shrinking meant the opposite.

If there were obstacles ahead, they would outline their approximate shapes with lines, and if there were fragile items on the ground that would make noise, wavy lines would be laid out over them.

Through such a simple and clear method, Lin An was able to hunt these gun-toting animals in the dark factory as if he were in his own element.

[Bad, something big is wrong, something weird got in]

[A big black dog, running so fast]

[Oh no, it stood up, it stood up like a human, two meters tall]

Lin An watched the chat, pushing the last shotgun shell into the magazine.

Through these dense messages, he roughly understood that something was coming, but he wasn't afraid; instead, he felt excited.

[That thing is heading your way]

[No, no, it turned, it's heading to the warehouse on the right]

[Damn it, there are a lot of homeless shacks over there, lots of people hiding inside]

[It's so fast]

Lin An still didn't move.

His breathing was steady, his chest barely rising or falling, his eyes narrowed into slits in the darkness, like an owl waiting for prey to pass by in a tree hollow.

Then, very soon, a low, guttural beastly growl squeezed from the depths of a throat echoed from the wall opposite him.

Followed by human screams.

"Ah... help, help..."

"Crunch... crunch"

Even through two walls, the sound of bones breaking was distinct, just like someone snapping wet branches in succession.

The screaming stopped quickly.

The growling continued, low and satisfied, like the purring of a beast licking its paws.

Lin An frowned.

[Damn, that big dog is eating people.]

[Kill it quickly, shoot it dead, you can't let a man-eater live.]

[Kill it my ass, streamer run, this thing isn't something you can handle.]

[Run!]

Lin An did not run; he raised his shotgun and began walking toward the source of the sound.

[Streamer, are you crazy?]

[That thing is two meters tall, that piece of junk in your hand won't kill it!]

[Switch to slugs, in the Monster Hunting Game, you need slugs to pierce its hide.]

[Run, go find that black guy and run together!]

Lin An ignored the chat; he walked slowly and calmly, adjusting his breathing as he formulated a tactic in his mind.

Rounding a corner, he saw his target.

At the end of the corridor, about fifteen meters away, a shed had been torn open; the sheet-metal walls were shredded like paper, and blankets, cardboard boxes, and plastic bottles were scattered everywhere.

Beside the shed lay a pile of things... they were human fragments.

A monster stood with its back to Lin An, crouching beside the pile, its shoulders heaving as it made wet, chewing sounds.

The monster's back was broad, like a wall, its black fur nearly invisible in the darkness, save for the moonlight leaking through a skylight, illuminating its shoulder blades and outlining the muscles beneath.

Even while crouching, the monster was as tall as Lin An; calculating that, it was definitely two meters tall—the chat hadn't been exaggerating.

Lin An stopped and aimed his shotgun at the creature's back, the sight wavering in the dark before steadying.

The distance was about twelve meters.

The chat kept scrolling.

[Don't shoot, it'll notice you the moment you fire.]

[Find cover first, find somewhere you can run.]

[Streamer, listen to us for once, you really can't beat this thing.]

"Bang... click... bang."

Lin An pulled the trigger for the first shot. After the recoil slammed into his shoulder, he racked the pump with lightning speed, chambered a round, and pulled the trigger again, dumping the 4+1 capacity of the shotgun into the monster's back as fast as he could.

The furry monster immediately collapsed onto the human fragments.

[You hit it!]

[Four hits out of five, the streamer's aim is decent.]

[Wait, it moved.]

The monster, sprawled in the gore, gave Lin An no time to breathe; its shoulders twitched, and then it launched itself forward, crashing into the shed ahead.

The shed's sheet-metal wall was torn open like paper, and the monster burst out the other side, vanishing into the darkness.

Lin An did not pursue; instead, he stepped back, leaned against the corner wall, and returned the empty shotgun to the store. He tapped the air, and an Ingram Submachine Gun, looted from a gunman's corpse, appeared in his hand.

The store contained the more powerful AMD-65 short-barreled submachine gun, but it wasn't suitable for Lin An right now; he knew his limits. Without formal shooting training, using an assault rifle with heavy recoil against a monster would only be asking for trouble.

He pulled the bolt to chamber a round, unfolded the stock, shouldered the weapon, and pointed the muzzle toward the direction the monster had fled.

With the gun in hand, Lin An silently noted the characteristics of the Ingram Submachine Gun as white, translucent chat messages flickered before his eyes.

[It's circling around from the left.]

[It stopped for a second, it's licking its wounds.]

[Damn, it licked twice and it's moving again.]

[It's behind you now, behind that Gantry Crane.]

Lin An turned, aiming his gun toward the Gantry Crane.

In the darkness, a massive shadow flashed under the moonlight, followed by the dull thud of padded paws hitting the ground.

Lin An decisively pulled the trigger. The Ingram's fire rate was like tearing fabric, and the .45 caliber rounds struck the steel beams of the Gantry Crane, sending a spray of sparks flying.

The dense barrage forced the shadow to kick off the ground, its entire body springing to the left like a coil before disappearing behind another row of shelves.

He hadn't hit it, but he had successfully prevented the monster from using the cover to close the distance.

The feeling of the Ingram's magazine running dry was distinct. Lin An released the trigger, returned the Ingram to the store, and tapped the air... a Ruger .22 Pistol appeared in his hand.

There was no time to reload, so he simply pulled a fully loaded one from the store.

[It's moving again, coming out from behind the shelves.]

A chat box appeared in his field of vision and rapidly expanded.

Lin An did not run; he crouched down, rested the pistol on his knee, and aimed at the shelves.

The moment the dark shadow lunged from behind the shelves, he fired rapidly, aiming to empty the magazine of his Ruger in the shortest time possible.

All ten .22 caliber rounds were discharged, with five striking the chest and shoulders of the monster as it charged in a straight line.

The monster's body jerked violently, its momentum momentarily interrupted.

Its front legs skidded across the floor, but its hind legs immediately braced, and it arched its back, letting out a low, guttural hiss.

It did not stop, surging forward once again.

Lin An stood up, switched to a Glock 17, and fired while retreating, maintaining his rapid-fire pace.

During the barrage, the nine-millimeter bullets struck the creature's face, snapping its head to the side and spraying red liquid, yet it did not slow down.

Five meters.

Maintaining his lethal composure, Lin An stowed the pistol back into the store, pulled out an AMD-65, pressed his left hand firmly against the barrel, and pulled the trigger to the end.

The monster reacted quickly, swaying left and right as the assault rifle fired, doing everything in its power to dodge the bullets.

The muzzle of the AMD-65 spat out deadly fire, and after three seconds, the sound of the hammer clicking on an empty chamber echoed; the thirty rounds formed an irregular spread in front of Lin An, with only three hitting the monster.

One 7.62mm intermediate cartridge exploded inside the monster's chest cavity, another tore a chunk of flesh from its shoulder, and the final one struck its thigh, producing a sickening sound of bone fracturing.

Yet, the monster's vitality was terrifyingly resilient; it still did not fall.

It braced its front claws on the ground, lifted its head, and fixed its yellow-green eyes on Lin An, its mouth stretching wide to reveal a mouthful of yellow-white teeth as black liquid dripped from the corners of its maw.

[It's still not dead?]

[Quick, switch guns and keep shooting to kill it!]

[The streamer has run out of pre-loaded guns in the store; reloading is the priority now.]

Lin An frowned, beginning to eject the empty magazine from the assault rifle to swap in a fresh one.

The monster realized this was its only chance; disregarding everything, it stood up on its remaining leg, then leaped with all its might, launching itself toward Lin An, who was only seven or eight meters away.

The scene unfolded too quickly, too suddenly; neither the composed Lin An nor the viewers had time to react as they watched the monster stretch its limbs in mid-air, red, sharp claws extending from its fingers to slash at Lin An.

"Bang!"

A figure slammed into Lin An from behind, colliding head-on with the monster and forcibly knocking back the claws that were about to land on him.

It was Darnell; he and the monster crashed heavily onto the ground right in front of Lin An.