Though he may have fallen asleep, those who seek him will find his unguarded treasure. At the edge of the Hollow's highest point, close to an industrial design for a large drainage network.
The wounded running woman was dressed in black leather boots, blue shorts that provocatively show off her hips and buttocks, and a sleeveless blouse. Her face appeared lifeless, and her orange hair was parted in pink tails.
She hurried, her breath heavy, clutching a Glock pistol.
The gloomy support for the construction drainage system obscured the features and movements of three unidentified individuals. She occasionally fired her handgun at them.
When she reached a looming support, she hid behind it and reloaded with focused alertness, keeping an eye out for those pursuing her. Her dismal black turned crimson as she drew back her gun and began rushing toward the opening, seeing the hidden figures as plainly as if they were a reflection of herself in a mirror.
Crimson dashing around allows her to see things that would be invisible without the assistance of specialized gear. Vampires have the gift known as "crimson sight," which allows them to discern a person's anatomical structure in a transparent world.
Most vampires who work in the medical field use this skill to perceive the problems that patients conceal from themselves.
As a result, this was essentially a fundamental ability that all vampires needed to master. She was able to see the anatomy of the figure and fire shots at important organs such as the stomach, lungs, and heart.
Bam, BAM, BAM! Three shots were enough to finish the work; the three figures dropped as if smeared like insects. She approached the victims cautiously, taking care to ensure there were no life signs. She discharged her gun at the figures' heads.
She ducked close to one of the bodies and peeked into their pockets, her bloodshot eyes dimming and darkening again. She pulled out an I.D. and recognized these individuals belonged to an Assassin Guild based on the ouroboros insignia.
"Someone wants me dead, but this is interesting," she added, taking the man's smartphone with the Sons of Iron logo—a skull with a bullet between its fangs. She used the man's finger to unlock it, only to discover a bounty notice for her and someone known as the 'Moody'.
The Moody figure's physical description were average and an estimated age of 17-18 years. The bounty award was B1,500 bards for information, and the reward for confirming death was B15,000 bards.
"15,000 bards for a teenager, what has this gotten himself into?" She cried out as she read her Bounty, which said:
Name: Alice Bonney
Status: Member of Agent 6
Reward: B12,000 bards
DEAD OR ALIVE
"Why is this kid's bounty higher than mine?" She wondered as she continued to check everyone. After that, she used one of the phones and dialed the first number on the phone, and a filtered voice said:
"Is it done?"
"Hey boss, the bitch responded," Alice replied.
"Ms. Alice, I underestimated you, guess those amateurs weren't enough for your skills"
"Ha-ha for the first in my life, I am flattered about you praising me but there is one thing you forgot about"
"Given that I am unemployed, I will accept and thank you for relieving me of my employment, incidentally. Now I have a good enough cause to clean up my résumé."
As she said, Alice crushed the smartphone with her bare hands and strode through the darkness, her once-injured arm now holding a beating blooded heart.
As it leaked blood, she placed the organ in the other hand and began licking the blood off. As she did so, her dark eyes went crimson as a cloud of fog emerged and shrouded the thin woman, revealing a series of winged animals that took to the ever-night sky.
The pager beeped in a low pitch at five in the morning. When it was windy, Bran had been educated in the military to recognize sounds that could be dangerous or innocuous, such as pin-dropping, creaking doors, and branches hitting windows.
Over time, Bran improved his fundamental knowledge and learned to identify which noises to pay particular attention to, enabling him to make deductions like those of Sherlock Holmes. Because Moriarty was always inclined to use his intelligence for evil purposes, he had considered himself an admirer of the man.
"To catch a criminal, you must become the criminal," said his drill sergeant, who advised him to constantly think like the adversary but never become one. Waking up, Bran tied his bed and tried to recall the original owner's recollections without pointing to the spot where the bullet had struck him.
Upon opening the door and proceeding to the adjacent bathroom, Bran took out his toothbrush and toothpaste and began brushing his teeth while examining the pager that the previous owner had a habit of carrying.
Through memory fragments, he discovered that Bran brought this pager to evade Agent 6's pursuit of him. He gave his father his old phone so he could use it to make calls and send texts on the pager.
The pager included a few features, like:
Decrypting Morse code
Sending texts
Send an email
Making a Call
weather and news update
Map in pixels
And lastly, an emergency flare signal—a last-ditch attempt to contact the police. The pager could not be easily tracked, much like an Earthly banner phone. Although pagers are used by criminals, Original Bran managed to get rid of the one that Agent 6 had given him, perhaps via cunning or luck.
'By the looks of things, the youngster was meticulous while he was this terrorist's spotter,' Bran reflected as he spat out the toothpaste, gouged some water, and spat into the bathroom sink. He said, glancing toward the adjacent mirror:
"Boy, you have caused such a mess but never fear, I will fix it"
After taking a quick shower in his room and changing into some shirts and pants, he walked to his room. After several attempts to locate the perfect outfit, Brandon settles on a long black trouser, a white T-shirt, a brown leather jacket, and a grey cap.
When it was six in the morning, he went to the kitchen to make his father some breakfast. He prepared fruit salad, custard, biscuits, tea, and jam butter bread, which he then toasted. He added, "Open the door," as he placed the meal on the nightstand next to the bed.
"I'll be returning for lunch, and the medication is on the nightstand. Call me on the phone okay if you're having any issues. Alright, I'll go now.
Bran had just left to take care of some business before heading to the Academy the next week, while his father was still asleep. He grabbed a backpack containing some critical materials for later use. After he went, Richard opened his eyes and spoke with some heft:
"Hopefully, he will be alright. It's beneficial for him to occasionally go out and spend some time by himself without worrying about me. Nevertheless, I'm hoping to get Ashley's help when I need it.
Richard pulled his cell phone from his pillow and started talking on the phone as he talked to Ashley.
Bran jogged, the chilly morning air blasting his body, inspecting the quiet suburb veiled by inaction; it was morning, after all.
There were typical brick homes in this modern area that blended imagination and reality, as well as some that gave the impression of being alien to someone who had traveled here from another planet.
One house was a double-story structure entangled by a big tree, with the door on the ground, another was contained in a bubble that remained stationary in the air, and the third was a haunted mansion on the hills with a creepy, ominous aura.
Bran noticed a construction site right at the end of the bubble home as he strolled around the quiet streets. The building appeared to be around 1.73 meters tall, with some yellow tape covering the exits and entry to the building; it still had some tall metal stands used for support and other unfinished parts.
Bran grinned and continued,
"This is sufficient."
He dashed to the door right away, unfurled the yellow tape, and left it alone. He ascended the stairs with surprising strength and energy, arriving at the fifth story. Perfect for what Brandon had in mind, the floor was level and unoccupied.
He placed the little rucksack on the ground and gazed at the monotonous and blending floor image. Bran knew what he needed to do in this area, even though his only alert was a pager.
Following a dramatic day of dying and rebirth in his new existence yesterday, Brandon was able to access memories of the original Bran through dreams, discovering his loneliness, desire to be powerful, desire to impress, and eventually yearning to be loved.
Les had been in a pleasant state after migrating to this location, but he, too, was experiencing difficulties. He hadn't had any human connections in a long time; he spent his days serving his country, and he had thought of himself as nothing more than a tool for saving millions of lives.
Lesley Dorn of the Delta 15th Squadron found it easy to take a life because she believed it was morally right to do so to save millions of people. However, he paid a heavy price for it: although he believed himself to be a hero for his country, the people he attacked and killed saw him as a criminal.
Hated by the people for their wishes and will, he died. Lesley was unaware that his actions would generate such a stir in people's emotions. The work that provided him solace turned out to be the true cause of his demise, together with a false belief in the patriotic duty to defend the nation, which failed to come to his aid when he needed it most.
Lesley believed he had found his place in this universe of opportunity and unbridled physical law. However, while viewing a video of Brandon's recollections, he concluded that, while innocent and trustworthy, this youngster was cautious.
He desired serenity and was willing to sacrifice both his body and his mind to obtain it, but his fluctuating attitude proved to be his undoing. It killed him, but because of the new owner's efforts to create a new purpose, it wouldn't kill him twice.
To achieve his goal, Bran needed to grow strength. The Lesley Dorn method.
"All right, let's get going," Brandon said, extending his hands and arms. He also removed his clothing and placed them in his rucksack. He started by putting on an MMA-style glove, flexible shorts, and a white vest.
"Let's do this"