Demon Hunter - Chapter 2
The sun rose as usual.
The scorching sunlight beamed through the thick gray clouds, scattering down on the ground that alternated between black and yellow. From time to time, a strong breeze would push aside a piece of the gray clouds and allow the sunlight to shine down unobstructed. The strange and bizarre animals would scatter in all directions in search of shade or underground caves to hide from the harsh and fatal solar rays. The only living things that weren’t scared of the sunlight were a certain species of tall vegetation. The sickly white stems were of half-meter long spikes. Each time the sunlight beamed down, it would turn itself to absorb the powerful light. It would then grow frantically at a visible speed.
Bang, bang! Noisy sounds clamored about, disturbing the early morning tranquility. An old fellow around fifty years of age was ferociously beating on a metal pipe that stuck out from the ground while shouting hoarsely, “Time to work! All of you bastards better crawl out here right now! Let this Old Hans see just how many lucky fellows there are left!”
Over a hundred people immediately emerged from the ground and ran in this direction. However, they all voluntarily stopped five meters before the old man, as if there was some kind of intangible barrier that prevented them from taking a step further. There were a few among the group that were not aware of the customs who pushed and shoved their way forward. The large and robust males around them immediately scolded, “Newcomers start at the back! What are you shoving around for?” Those individuals immediately realized what was happening. Their faces already suffered from several fists, and their bodies were lying on the ground. The people around them immediately contributed relentlessly with their arms and legs. Only after a while did those robust men toss these nearly dying individuals outside the ranks. They even spat a mouthful of spittle hatefully at the newcomers.
Old Hans had long grown accustomed to these savage acts. He simply shrugged his shoulders indifferently towards the act. Currently, he was wearing a leather jacket that had completely lost its luster outside a dull red coarse checker-patterned shirt. Below was a pair of oil splattered jeans, and on his feet was a pair of tall military boots. Compared to the refugees around him who looked no different from beggars, Old Hans was simply like a king. His attitude was also just like that of a king’s. In front of his chest dangled a silver emblem. The backdrop of the emblem was a faraway city, and embedded at the center was a tank. Under the sunlight, the emblem shone brilliantly, making it extremely eye-catching. The hundred pairs of eyes would frequently drift past the emblem. Among those gazes, there were some that revealed fear, others that revealed jealousy, but the most common were looks resembling the ones starving wolves had for meat.
Faced with these hundred or so wild wolves, Old Hans didn’t seem to be scared in the slightest. He moved behind a metal table and retrieved a few cans with indiscernible labels. He slammed it onto the table and roared, “Same as before! A hundred kilograms of ore can be used to exchanged for five cents! The price for food is the same as yesterday. Out of pity for you bastards, there are even a few cans here today. It’ll depend on you guys to see who walks away with what! Don’t crowd your way forward, come over one by one!”
These people were well aware of the rules. After lining up properly, they walked over to the metal table one by one. Old Hans seemed like a butcher picking out his meat as he swept his eyes through their bodies, skin color, and complexion. He would then casually shout out “You’re okay, you can go over there and work!” or “You’re no good!”
The refugees that obtained approval immediately hurried towards the pile of tools. After grabbing a metal pick and a basket to wear on their backs, they immediately sprinted for the mines several hundred meters away, fearing that if they were even a second slower, Old Hans might change his mind and deem them as a useless person and say the terrifying words “You’re no good.”
“Why am I not good enough?” A muffled roar pulled back everyone’s attention. It came from an individual who was about 6’2 in height. A black individual with the build of a mountain bear smashed his fist down on the metal table and roared towards Old Hans.
Old Hans brought out a clean handkerchief and slowly wiped away the saliva that landed on his face. He pointed towards a large bowl-sized rotting lesion and said unhurriedly, “You’ve contracted an illness! If I let you go down into the mines, then you’ll infect my strongest workers. Who will complete the work then?”
“I can work! I need to eat, and I have three children to raise!” The black man did not attentively listen to what Old Hans said. He continued to shout while beating loudly on the metal table.
Old Hans frowned. He stroked his beard and hinted towards the people behind him. As soon as a bang noise sounded, the black man’s shouting abruptly stopped. As he looked at the large cavity that appeared in his chest with disbelief, his throat tried to make sounds, but not a single word came out.
Behind Old Hans, a bald robust man once again pulled the trigger on the double-barreled shotgun in his hands. Another loud sound exploded, sending several hundred pellets into that black individual’s chest. His wounds doubled in size, and this time, it completely blasted through his thick and sturdy chest. The robust man was wearing a black suit that had so many wrinkles that it became completely shapeless. There were many holes in it as well, revealing just how ancient the clothing was. There were a total of three robust men like this behind Old Hans.
Once Old Hans finished wiping his face, he said to the empty air in front of the metal table, “Also, ****, your saliva stinks!” From his manner of speaking, it seemed as if the black man was still standing in front of the table.
There were still more than a hundred refugees that had not entered the ore mines yet. As of this moment, a bit less greed and a bit more fear could be seen in their eyes. Several individuals walked over. They dragged away the large black man’s body and dropped it somewhere several hundred meters away.
The line in front of the metal table quickly shortened. Before the sky had even brightened, most of the refugees had already entered the ore mines. The ones that had not been chosen began to walk towards the city in search of potential opportunities.
“The number of sick laborers is getting higher and higher. This month’s amount seems to be a bit tight…” Old Hans frowned. He stood up and stretched out his sore waist and back. However, when he had only stretched back halfway, he suddenly stopped. He then propped himself up with two arms and leaned forward to look at the child that was barely taller than the metal table.
The child was covered in a blanket that was so filthy that its original color had long disappeared. The child’s face, arms, and every place that was exposed was covered densely in cloth strips. Only the left eye could be seen, and it was currently looking calmly at Hans. The child seemed roughly eight or nine, and it was unknown if the child was male or female.
Originally, Old Hans definitely would not waste any time on an obviously unsuitable refugee. However, it might be because he was feeling a bit of charity, maybe the sight of blood just now made his heart soften, possibly the anxiety from lacking laborers this month, or even the child’s gaze, but regardless, he hesitated. Suddenly, he opened his mouth and asked, “You want to work?”
The child nodded his head.
“Fine! However, are you male or female?” Old Hans asked.
“Male,” the child finally spoke. Compared to other children of similar age, his voice was clearly deeper and possessed an indescribable type of attraction.