The noon sun blazed overhead, casting long shadows through the dense canopy of the forest as the armored truck rumbled down the narrow road.
Inside, the atmosphere was tense despite the glaring sunlight outside. The large truck carried Lenny, Remy, Jim, Amelia, and five heavily armored guards, each seated a few feet apart. The rhythmic hum of the engine was the only sound breaking the thick silence.
Amelia sat quietly, her gaze drifting over to the guards, sizing them up. Two women and three men.
These weren't your typical WHA Hunters—these were private Hunters, veterans for hire, and, in this case, working for Derek.
She recognized the type: mercenaries who had honed their skills for profit rather than principle. Four of them were seasoned mid- to high-level A Rankers, but the fifth, the one sitting closest to the door, had the unmistakable aura of a low-level S Ranker.
