A jeep sped across the grasslands.
"Fuck, this place is full of weird shit." The driver was a man with a long knife scar across his face and a shotgun beside him.
"Who cares, as long as we get paid?" A fat man sat in the passenger seat. "Those things might look creepy, but a bullet still takes care of them."
"True enough." Scarface nodded and patted the shotgun beside him. "Even an elephant can't take a shot."
"Hey, looks like someone up ahead." The fat man pointed forward. "Looks like they're coming right at us, too."
"More locals?" Scarface sneered. "Idiots. Throwing their lives away for a bunch of animals—run them over!"
He stomped on the accelerator. The jeep sped up again, charging straight at the figure ahead.
"All right, kids. Once you see me smash the jeep, go ahead and look scary. We'll protect you." Vixen touched her necklace. "Elephant!"
Vixen grabbed the jeep's front bumper and flipped it over.
"Fucking monster!" Scarface immediately snatched up his gun and fired at Vixen's head.
"Hmph." Bronze Tiger flicked his wrist. A dart struck the bullet, knocking the shot off course.
"How is that possible?" Scarface was stunned. Was that something a human could do?
"What an incredible throw," Vixen marveled. "How did you do that?"
"I'm more curious about where the dart came from." Roland looked Bronze Tiger over. He wore nothing but a pair of shorts, with nowhere apparent to store darts. "Don't tell me—a concealed dart?"
"I don't know what you're implying, but I'm sure it's nothing good." Bronze Tiger rolled his eyes and showed Roland the pockets on his shorts.
"Oh, so it was a pocket."
"What did you think?"
"I thought it was a pocket, too." Roland blinked.
"Damn monsters! You think we're not even