Novel & Cerita Chrollo Hunter Hunter

I drew my claws. The Hunter Remembers All Chloe ever wanted was a place to call her own, a group of people that cared about her unconditionally. She had thought she had found that the hunters, with Darnell as a father figure and the other young ones as siblings, had even begun to drop her guard (just a little) around them. It was, however, not to be, a fact that she had discovered when she was sent out on her first ground mission.

SYLVIA Hunter rounded on us, his face scarlet from rage. I cringed internally noticing his large hands curl into fists, but I refused to let my fear overtake me. “He’s not Drake. He won’t hit me.” I told myself repeatedly in my head. Before I got a chance to explain, Madame Helen interrupted. She tugged on Hunter’s shirt sleeve, ignoring his blazing eyes that would have withered any wolf.

“It’s best to come with us before the others find you.” Others? “Listen, I think you have the wrong girl. I’m just a bounty hunter.” I pushed Lukas a little, and I took in the men in front of us. They were all wearing the same clothing style as the men who had met us in the bar close to the industrial sector, but what stood out was a small pin they all had on their left breast—an owl in flight. They were Noctua. Another man came forward and flashed me a picture. My picture.

Rather, like others before me, I'll die in the attempt. "VAL!" I shout, urging her to move faster. Hunter once again cocks his gun, and just like before, nothing happens. I swallow, knowing my odds of survival are drastically decreasing by the second. I can tell that he's using the classic Colt .45mm pistol. Which means there are only eight rounds. Hunter has already used three rounds, leaving five more left. The bullet could be in any one of those rounds. "I don't like to be kept waiting, Mr. Westshire." Hunter exclaims, pulling back on the trigger once more. I feel my heart stop in my chest as I attempt to prepare myself for the inevitable bullet. When it doesn't come once again, I gulp in

...Hunter POV... I felt like pulling out my hair. For what seemed like the twentieth time now, the Huntress, whoever she was, had managed to foil my plans. I didn't know who this Huntress was, but she was driving me insane. No matter what I did, she always seemed to be one step ahead of me. Earlier on, I sent my men out to capture another lead. We had been tailing him for a week and found an opportunity to grab him discreetly. He was a minister of the government and was known for taking handouts. Making him an easy target for Silvio.

They were called hunters. In his dying prayer, with the token of his faltering breath, the first Chavére Alpha provoked the ancient truce and etched it into his bloodline. In every decade, under the hunter’s moon, hunters with skills and strength comparable to the Lycans woke to protect wolves. And for a bleak moment, there was hope for the wolves.

*** Abraham Van Helsing, the Dutch vampire hunter, had once had an apprentice whom he admired and held in high regard, long before he even considered the holy order as a potential calling. Helsing betrayed his apprentice and thought he had disposed of him. However, the tales surrounding this event were shrouded in insufficient recounting and relied solely on rumors. Higgins, renowned for his extraordinary ability to communicate with the dead, was known as the Necromancer Hunter. His expertise lay in influencing the living through the use of the deceased as conduits. His discarded body had washed up on the shores of a massive island housing several packs of werewolves, one of which belonged t

Just imagine adding a car accident that makes you lose your memory. Hunter is the last to enter the field with his eyes closed, praying for something. I need to take a course in lip reading. When the little girl with glasses takes his hand, his smile grows. He bends down and says something in her ear that also creates a beautiful smile on her face. The anthem begins to play so everyone continues to sing the chapel, causing every person who is watching to shiver all over. I can’t take it anymore, seeing him with his European-style hair with its bit of gel and the brightest blue eyes I've ever seen. There he is, at home. My mother should be a standup comedian, swearing and cursing the judge so

They instinctively looked down. Then everyone froze. The pink, suggestive interface of "Goddess Hunter" disappeared. It was replaced by a cold black interface that looked like a tombstone. At the center of the screen, the photo of me that had been treated as prey vanished too. In its place was Gary's face, twisted with shock. Under his photo, blood red words slowly appeared. [New game activated, Scumbag Hunter.] [Target: Gary Zachary York.] A cold, emotionless synthetic voice came from everyone's phone at the same time.

HUNTER’s POV Quietly I make my way down the long, dark and smokey hallway of the topmost floor. I know Clyde is nearby, I can smell the stench of his wolf even through the smoke. The guy needs a bath. And maybe a full-body scrub too. There are other scents too…Clyde is not alone. I draw my gun, time for a little game of cat and mouse. Two dark figures run across the hallway and I smile. I chase after the men who lurk in the shadows and realize that one of them is trying to corner me.