Aventurero Novels & Stories

Antonio, who had been lounging behind his ornate mahogany desk, his fingers absently stroking the rim of a half-empty glass of Scotch, looked up with a furrowed brow. “Moore?” he repeated slowly. “Who the hell is that?” He asked, looking intently at him with a high level of curiosity. Marco lifted his eyes briefly. “He is a mercenary. Off the books, but recently trying to affiliate himself. Apparently, he’s been making moves in our circle. Mostly underground jobs and some high-profile hits across Europe,” Antonio narrowed his gaze. “And why in hell would I want to meet with some desperate freelance gunman?”

And maybe. She can tell a good story to her brothers and friends back home. ~ ~ ~ "IT'S DAWN. We should camp up before proceeding to north." Was what Javier, a mercenary and known navigator, said before looking at his companion with a smile. From under his hood, his golden eyes shined as he slowly removed it, that beautiful face shows no emotions but his eyes was pretty evident to anyone who would even glance at him that he is foreign. "How long till we get to the north?" The young man asked, brushing his hair back.

There was no insignia that screamed private investigator on her body. “Do you belong to anyone?” He asked gruffly. Nevena swallowed hard, her eyes wide, her lips parted as if she had no idea how to answer. Then, in a whisper, “No...I only arrived yesterday's night.” “Hermanos {Brothers}, She’s a tourist,” Antonio's deep voice stretched to the goons. “No le demos mala fama a mi ciudad. { Let's not give my City a bad name}” “Butt off Baboso {Dimwit.}”, the leader of the goons snorted at Antonio. “Who says you rule Enchanted Hills ?”. He jerked his chin, signaling his men to grab Nevena.

Meanwhile, inside the private room at Mystic Club. Wendell Hunt was having a toast with a East Asian man. This man was over hundred 90 cm tall and wore a wolf's fangs as a pendant. He had tanned skin and tone muscles. At first glance, he look like a farmer who work on the fields by the countryside. But the man was, in fact, a powerful figure. He was a mercenary leader who carried out activities in several countries of Asia all year long, his group was known as Wolf Hunter, and his name was Rocky.

I tore the photo instantly—no thought, no hesitation. Second photo: Connor Ivanov. Handsome, polished, with a reputation for charm and ruthlessness. I’ve heard whispers of his cruelty—smiling while orchestrating chaos. Third: Finneas Diaz. Quick-tempered, fiercely loyal to his own, and utterly unpredictable. His men would die for him without question, but the same loyalty could turn deadly if crossed. Fourth: Oscar Montoya. Older, experienced, cunning. Known for controlling underground gambling rings and shipping empires alike. Patience is his weapon, subtlety his armor.

Aranjo put on his ears and after a calm state, Aranjo opened the window curtain of the stretcher. However, before he had time to open the curtain, the large curtain that was in front of him was roughly opened. A soldier in a suit of armor full of blood stared at him. The Warrior was not from the Danzou Kingdom, so Aranjo retreated his body. That means they were defeated by the enemy. The soldier looked at him with such passion that even the soldier seemed to swallow. Aranjo knows clearly the beauty and the beauty of his body that makes every eye stare in awe of him.

The fact that he was so calm and collected, reassured me that he was strong. "You be careful out there," the plaid shirt guy said. "You don't want to get too close to those mutts." I felt Hunt's fingers tighten around mine. "You mean the wolves?" he said icily. Plaid shirt frowned at Hunt. "Yeah, those dirty mutts. I don't care for any fancy names for those killers." "We have to go," I chimed in as Hunt dug his nails into my palms. "We really not in town for long."

hisses a strong Peruvian accent. “A venator?” I say in surprise. “Potentially with a member of the Haere Pack, they’re the closest pack in the area,” says Beste with concern. “Or a cur. Either way, they need help. You go and handle that. I can handle the sanguidaes,” I encourage. “Are you sure?” Beste asks with uncertainty. “I can handle a few sanguidae on my own, and if you don’t hurry that mutolupus might not be alive much longer. Go, before he ends up mounted on someone’s wall,” I say strongly.

I inhaled a deep breath nervously and pondered what and how much should I tell him. "Are you testing my patience. If... then don't... because I'm not a patient man." he took a long drag and then releasing the smoke in the air continued, "Let me self-introduce myself. I'm sure you have heard the name Adan Leandro." His voice chilling calm but the danger was evident. My whole body froze. I stared at him numb. "Yes, that's me!" Adan Leandro. The mafia king of Spain. I ran from one deadly man and my destiny brought me in front of another deadlier and dangerous one.

**Shyfter** ‘As always, our little brother, forever the self chosen ambassador for peace! That's fine, let's see how YOU will handle this, Ambassador. The rest of us will observe these new strangers. Kugri, would you please go inform the Others about our guests? We shouldn't be hasty to turn to the side of violence to solve our problems, when words are far less deadly.’ A huge rust colored wolf, with glowing orange eyes suggested. **Anaki** ‘Shyfter, you will remain behind with Moon. I have a feeling you two will make an interesting team on this one. If this wolf does make a move with hostile intent, detain only, understood?’