Dawn had barely broken over the Kazuichi Stronghold when Kazuichi felt the gnawing hunger clawing at his insides. His senses heightened, the familiar thirst for blood returning after days of pushing it aside. The blood bags he'd been using from his previous hunts had long since run dry, and no amount of meteorite ore consumption could quiet the primal need that now raged within him.
His eyes flicked toward the notice board, an aging wooden frame nailed to the stronghold wall, plastered with papers detailing various hunts and missions. Some were fresh, new challenges waiting to be conquered. Others were torn, faded from the sun, a silent testament to failed attempts or jobs long ignored. Kazuichi's gaze settled on one paper in particular, its edges frayed from being detached and reattached several times. A mission marked by desperation, perhaps, one that had bested many before him.
