by Dave Austin
Beast Hunters
A Gamelit Harem Adventure Book 1
Dave Austin
Beast Hunters Book 1 © 2021 by Dave Austin. All Rights Reserved.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Table Of Contents
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI
Chapter VII
Chapter VIII
Chapter IX
Chapter X
Chapter XI
Chapter XII
Chapter XIII
Chapter XIV
Chapter XV
Chapter XVI
Chapter XVII
Chapter XVIII
Chapter XIX
Chapter XX
Chapter XXI
Chapter XXII
Chapter XXIII
Chapter XIV
Chapter I
"EVERYONE TO THE RIGHT! THIS ROAD IS PROHIBITED. THE HUNTERS ARE SOLVING THE PROBLEM," a policeman in black uniform and a golden badge shouted, his hand pointing to his right side.
A mixture of red and orange flashed before my eyes. Explosions were getting bigger, and a huge, green-scalped dinosaur with a metal arm had just fired a Hunter across the air. It was hard to follow every movement when the people behind were constantly honking. At the same time, others turned over to a secondary street and speeded up until they could no longer be seen.
It was not the first time that a fight took on epic proportions, ending up unraveling amidst buildings, tearing them down, and injuring innocent people. It happened a lot when the Hunters were still rookies. They had the bad habit of thinking they were better than they really were, thus taking unnecessary risks. I would not make the same mistake.
Suddenly, the sound of iron dragging through the floor crept in, leaving everyone's ears humming. One of the most prolific hunters of the decade had climbed on his electric skateboard and had just jumped over the police barrier.
I wasn’t a big fan of him, much less his spiky red hair. He thought he was better than everyone. I remembered when once, in an interview, after destroying a level 9 monster, he challenged any Hunter to fight him.
He was one of the few Hunters who always fought alone. Despite the help he gave to the police, they avoided having to contact him. He was 27. His father had trained him to be a Hunter since he was born. In his head, he was still a teenager. He had never developed past that.
Still, he did not lack money, women, or fame. Everything that I desired. He withdrew his semi-automatic gun, the sun beating down on it, dazzling me and those close to me.
"I'M ALREADY LATE!" a man in his 40's, two cars behind me, screamed.
A few minutes later the line finally advanced, and I drove away while looking at the battle, still happening afar.
Buildings crumbled, and glass was shattered. This would most likely lead to another anti careless’ Hunters protest. They had been happening a lot lately. People were fed up, and public opinion on Hunters was slowly changing.
I had not set foot in the capital for a while. People walked across the streets, and the colorful digital billboards constantly blinked. They were advertising all the recent news about Hunters. One was now informing of Foxel’s latest victory, the red-haired boy, while the other announced that there were less than 24 hours left before a new batch of long-range weapons were put on sale. The minimum cost was 2500 Hunter Points. Nice, I had zero.
To get points, I had to get the Hunter App and then kill some monsters. Those points could also be used as real money. Well, no wonder the population saw us as outsiders instead of vigilantes in plain sight. We not only had a monthly wage, as we also got extra money for slaying monsters. It was a way to incentivize Hunters to be more active. Which I always thought was weird, seeing that it was our job.
The streets were almost empty at the time. Most people had parked their cars in the main parking lot before going to the nearby restaurants. But, unlike them, I drove for a few more minutes until I saw the big yellow-brown building that rose splendidly above all others.
I didn’t leave the car right away. Instead, I inhaled the hotdogs’ scent that danced throughout the air, coming from the walking ban down the street.
The building had five huge floors, and each one was the base of the Hunters of that specific level. The red doors were never closed for more than a few seconds. People were coming and going all the time. However, they ignored and avoided touching each other.
Despite the three years, I had spent in the academy, since I was 18 until now, the distance between Hunters who didn’t belong in the same level still confused me. Maybe because I grew up with a whole house every weekend and all the neighbors, a few Hunters, sharing funny stories during barbecue. Even today, the chop smell takes me to that tender age where everything seemed way simpler. But, anyway, I was already wasting too much time. After closing my car’s door, I moved on to the building’s gate. My heart was racing faster than I would ever admit to anyone. My knees were trembling, and I swear that for a few seconds, I could not hear anyone or anything.
It was my second time inside that building: the yellow walls and the newly painted black ceiling contrasted with the white marble floor. I was immediately taken aback by the main room. It was huge, and several groups talked to each other while others were walking up to the stairwells that stood in the furthest corner. Before it, there was a desk where a girl with red hair up to her shoulders, green eyes shining under the light that brightened them, softly rubbed her rosy cheeks.
She was pointing out the names of all those who passed by and their ranks. No one dared to disrespect her. Instead, everyone said good morning to her, even the most badly regarded. I waited until my turn came and cleared my throat before I spoke to her. I explained my situation to her, told her my name, that I was new there, and asked her where I had to go.
She never took her eyes from me, numbed by my words, shaking her head slightly to the right while I poured everything out.
"You need to go down those stairs. The second door on the left.” She said. A soft, embellished and almost therapeutic voice, "Welcome to the Hunters Headquarters, James!" She added, this time with a smile.
The scent of jasmine rose through my nostrils.
"Thank you. I’m making sure I don't get lost." I answered her, trying to keep the conversation going even though I knew there were at least 10 people behind me in line.
"If you get lost, just come back here. I'll help you," she said and leaned over to me, the cleavage not being enough to hide her boobs.
I must admit I was embarrassed to the point where my cheeks turned red. I thanked her for the help, and she smiled once more, this time putting some loose strands of her hair behind her ear.
I rolled up my sleeves and walked into the unknown. I wasn’t the best student at the academy, but I had excelled at using long-range weapons. My teachers used to say I had a lynx’s eye.
The corridor was empty. Despite a dozen doors, there was only one room with the lights on, a space whose white floor contrasted with the high black ceiling. A lady in her 40’s, wide-hips and sloping shoulders, was o
n the back, tidying up some dusty pages between reams of paper. She didn’t hear me coming. She hummed a pop song, the kind you could listen to on the radio every morning, using her free hand to drum her fingers in her brown pants.
I buzzed the small bell that was on top of the desk, and she turned around. She smiled, showing her yellow teeth and her wrinkles twitched. The hidden iris behind her bushy eyebrows and her curved upwards eyelashes brightened. She leaned over the table and asked me how she could help me.
“Hello, my dear. You’re from the new batch of Hunters, right? I assume you’re here because you want your Hunter APP. I hope you know how careful you must be out there. A lot of people came here in search of money and fame and come back with less than they had.” She said, frowning and scratching her left nostril.
“Yes, I am. And thank you, but what do you mean by they return with less? Less money?” I asked her.
“Money is not everything, young man. They come back with grief on their minds – repentance consumes some. Others, happier or not, depending on how you see life, come back without body parts. Not forgetting those who don’t even come back. It’s not as easy as it looks out there.” She answered, her fresh cinnamon scent filling the room.
“I’ll be careful,” I answered, omitting how anxious I was. How I felt my toes curling as an electric charge run down my spine.
“Your choice. I just need to know what your type is. I’d say you’re not a huge fan of short-range fighting. Maybe a shooter?”
“You have an eye for this sort of thing, don’t you?” I replied, trying hard not to laugh, “You’re right. I’m a shooter.”
“Mm-hmm.” She mumbled, “I have a few options here that I think you’ll appreciate. Long or short range?” She asked, the wheels in her head turning as she thought about the different types.
“Long. Do you have something with a huge impact power but light enough to handle?” I asked her while remembering those long afternoons in the shooting range.
“Of course, boy. We have everything. I’ll pick up something.” She replied.
She smiled at me and turned around. Her fat, greasy fingers ran through the metal of the bookshelves as she walked. My heart was beating like 1000 men marching towards victory and apogee. She grabbed a few boxes, searched them, closing, and repeating the same accuracy of movements in others. Despite her ample hips, she didn’t seem to have any difficulty in bending or kneeling.
After a few seconds, she opened one of the boxes in a corner, looked at me, smiled, and picked it up.
She placed it on the table carefully, and that was when I noticed the little yellow symbol in the left corner saying “fragile.” The blue and orange colors peered through a tiny opening. My toes curled up, and my arm hair raised. She took an x-act from a drawer under the desk and opened the box until the smell spread across the room – a metallic, warm fragrance. I inhaled it, taking a deep breath, still incredulous with the three options that stood in front of me.
It was a pistol with two pipes, one black and one orange, with a black handle and the rest dark blue. It wasn’t heavy but not as light as I was looking for. I ignored the second option – a three-arrow bow. My knowledge about bows was zero. I’d used them a few times at the academy, but the arrows had a habit of ending up on top of a tree, forcing someone far more skilled to get them with sharp, precise shots.
The third option seemed to be the most appropriate – similar to the first, but orange strokes under both gray pipes and proper weight. I was able to maneuver it with ease and even did some tricks with it. I moved my fingers between the handle, throwing the gun in the air, recovering it, and turning it.
The woman looked at me, her eyes following the glint, the orange obscuring the grayness.
“I see you’ve already decided.” She said, putting the rest of the weapons away.
“I think so. For a beginner like me, this is great.” I answered her, putting the gun on the table, “I’m excited.”
“They always are, boy. You can have the gun now. Just sign here.” She said and bowed again.
From another drawer, she took a tablet. She asked for my fingerprint and a signature using a small rubber-tipped pencil. I followed her directions. I pressed the base of my index finger against the plate until the color changed, and a laser analyzed the whole palm of my hand, scanning it and running my prints through the system. Letters began to appear, slowly, joining until they formed sentences, pointing out information about me.
James Crusher
Rank: E
Experience points: 0/150 to the next Rank
Money: 250 hunter points
Weapon: Orange Pistol
“Turn around now.” She ordered me.
She raked through something in an already open drawer and used her free hand to divert the hair whirlpool on the back of my head. I was going to ask her what she was doing when I felt a needle penetrating my skin, going deep, pouring something into my blood. I blinked my eyes - the colors around me surfed the walls, and a sharp pain seized the left side of my head.
"I know it hurts, but it's normal. It'll only take a few seconds." She said while removing the needle from my skin. When she drew the needle, my elastic skin also receded, leaving the area all reddish. She pulled a mirror out of her back pocket and showed me.
"It's done. You're ready to get out of here and fight the monsters that you want, level up, and perhaps reach the top. Now you can see all the information about your colleagues. As you are still in rank E, you can only go up to the first floor, where it is the common space of your rank, and you can come down here, to me, to buy weapons and equipment. Any questions?"
"I don't think so. Thank you very much! You'll see that in a short time, I'll be climbing the ranking, reaching the top, and you'll be surprised, Miss...? I still don't know your name."
"You can call me Grace." She answered and smiled one last time before sighing and turning her back, dragging her suede shoes across the floor.
Chapter II
I went up the stairs again and found myself on ground zero. The same girl from before talked to a boy with long grey hair, brown eyes, and a long black robe that covered his whole body, down to the boots, which were also black.
I disregarded the situation, which was expected, and went up to the first floor. It was the first time I had ever put my feet on that radiant floor. The lights fell on the vast empty corridor, my body reflected in the ground’s brightness. Someone had glued a white paper with a black arrow pointing to the left, indicating that it was the route to the living room. There was no information about what was on the right side, although seeing a wooden door in the corner was possible.
There were pictures of legendary Hunters all over the hallway - from the first one, Carlx, 30 years ago, to Laney, the first woman to be photographed, 25 years ago. He, with his legendary brown robe, black pants, and two swords on his back, while she had her purple dress complimenting her short pink hair and her gloves with long-range missiles.
The door was half-open. As I opened it, the door crept across the floor, drawing the attention of everyone present. Everyone had their eyes set on me, on the newbie, who had just arrived there and was already causing disturbances. As usual, they didn't seem very friendly or receptive. A group was using the interactive whiteboard to see new missions. There were also two girls, one lying on the couch with a black top hat covering her face and a black bustier, one of those that the two parts are attached by metallic threads. The other girl was sitting on a cushioned chair, with a light blue hat and a rose-colored dress, fully matching her rosy cheeks and green eyes. She also had a metallic crystalline glove on her right hand. I had never seen one like that before. The truth was, I didn't even know how they worked. Teachers, of course, used to explain everything about them to us. They had created a natural element out of cells discovered about 50 years ago and how they used body energy to do it. Still, otherwise, I knew zero about how they worked.
Their stats appeared next to their bodies
, vertically, like a shopping list, item by item. Both were level E, although the girl in the black hat already had some experience compared to the girl in the dress who had zero like me.
"Are you looking for trouble?" One of them, with long brown hair, a superficial cut extending from his right eyebrow to his cheek, and a chubby nose, asked. His low voice echoed through the room. Nobody moved. The air got heavier, and he took two steps forward.
"He's a rookie. Just ignore him. Come on, we got to get going before somebody gets hurt before we arrive.” A brown-haired boy, with younger features than I, intervened.
"You're right. Let's just go." He said, walking towards me, bumping into my shoulder as he left.
Silence ravaged the room. An awkward environment to which no one was indifferent. Suddenly, an alert appeared on the screen - a red exclamation mark flashing constantly. A video of a monster, a wolf-like metal-clawed creature with a horn on his forehead, and black stains on his white fur, played before us. The aberration had stopped the traffic at the bridge. It now tore car’s bonnets, chasing down some families who were trying to escape as quickly as possible. Even the girl in the black dress took the top hat off her face and paid attention.
"A GROUP OF THREE TO FIVE PEOPLE IS URGENTLY REQUESTED ON OKINAWA STREET."
The capital letters blinked on the screen. There was no one else in the room but the three of us.
Chapter III
"We have to go!" I said, my legs trembling and my left foot tapping the ground like a drum set, "Do you have a group yet?"
"Ah...no... But I don't know, what if things go south? What if one of us gets hurt?" The girl in the pink dress said, her sweet voice serving as music to my ears, while she crossed her arms to shelter herself, her tits almost popping out.
"A Hunter can't be afraid of getting hurt. Let's go. People need us. You agree with me, don't you?" I asked the other girl in the room, who had short green shaded black hair and a smooth eyeliner string.
