Solo Leveling National Level Hunters Novels & Stories

Lunchtime was perfect in the afternoon, two people hiding in the forest, ten meter away from the gate. "Brother, there is a real Camp." Lone hunter 1 analyzes the gate, if they want to scam them, no need for location base or traping in that place was ridicule, with their experience as lone Hunter for five years, it's not surprising much, although both of them only Mortal stage 1, their survival was higher than people at Camp. "First brother, after you." Lone Hunter 2 following his brother from behind, walks slowly while looking around, on alert if something a miss.

He was holding a crossbow—and a shotgun. I tried to suppress the fear clawing at my insides, but it was useless. My gaze flicked to Silas. He was already watching me. “Silas,” Orin said, his voice disturbingly calm, a twisted grin stretching across his face, “there’s no going back this time. You walk out of here free if you kill the boy." He took another step, the grin widening, enjoying every second of this sick game. "Come on, boy. Kill the beast. Join me. Continue the family legacy—hunt."

"We get one of the guards alone, away from Bronson’s prying eyes." Cullen tilted his head, his sharp mind already calculating the logistics. "The Alpha’s Hunt." I nodded slowly, the pieces falling into place. Tomorrow at dawn, the neutral territory hosted the traditional Alpha’s Hunt. It was a ceremonial event deep in the surrounding forests, designed for the pack leaders and their top warriors to showcase their tracking skills and establish dominance without shedding each other's blood. The thick, sprawling woods would provide the perfect cover.

“Nightfall’s when the hunters move. You’ve heard of them… but I doubt you’ve seen what they do.” Lilith’s stomach tightened. “You mean like—silver bullets and wooden stakes?” Nathan huffed out a humorless laugh. “If only. That’s for rookies. Real hunters?” His gaze flicked toward the treeline. “They use Anasazi symbols, wolfsbane, silver-tipped arrows… and fire. Especially for us.” His voice dropped lower. “Fire’s the only thing that works on a Wendigo.” “You’re saying… they know there’s one of us here?” she asked.

It’d be like shooting fish in a barrel. Has he tried to put one over on the humans? Maybe I can play them against each other. Lenox doesn’t blink though. “We’re trying something different this time.” Smith’s eyes gleam. “This isn’t a boring track and kill. No guns. No tranqs. Dogs, blades, and traps only. Man versus nature. Nothing in between a male in rut and his female in heat except the cunning and skill of the most consummate sportsmen on the planet, and the winner gets to fuck the Haunt of the Hill’s mate on his own bloody pelt.” Smith fakes a shiver of delight. “It’s going to be legendary.”

I was quick to hire the best investigators money could buy to find him. It took them three days to find him. Might have been less if I had found the patched letter on the floor earlier. Matteo Leone. Pretty boy had a pretty name. He was twenty three years old. There was nothing much on him, except his family and his hidden hobbies. He was bisexual. The folder contained rumors that suggested he was living under his father's thumb. I couldn't fathom how any father could treat their own child like hazardous dirt. So, I had searched for more.

Isaac complained as he kept guiding the citizens. "There are a lot of strong Hunters here. We probably can hold them off for a while until backup arrives." Mira said while noticing the tags of the Hunters nearby. A lot of them were yellow and green which showed Seasoned and Experienced rank. Some were even white for Veteran rank. There was also one or two bronze which signified Champion ranked Hunters. "Those giant snakes might still be a problem." Apoel said. "I feel like I've seen them somewhere. Hey, don't push!" Lawen yelled at a guy who just pushed through the line of people.

Catching one will not cause their whole downfall. “Second day, they trained me and discussed everything that I need to know. They have this hierarchy starting from the head, down to the hunters, next are the assassins, and the last ladder was the line of drug mules and weapon smugglers. Only the hunters and assassins were filled in with details and provided with personal contacts, the drug mules and weapon smugglers should only do their job and get their shares when they succeed. I, for example passed as the hunter. They gave me a mission—”

“12 out of 21 deer have been killed by this hunter.” Holding my spear, I am trying to catch my breath while paying my whole attention to the keeper. Keepers are the one who has the information of how many kills a hunter has in an hour. “None other than, Raffi of the Ambrose’s!” I saw my father fixing his hunter’s robe while wearing his huge smile. The whole tribe is excited especially the women of which gender I belong to. I started to walk to the wooden stage created by the tribe for this kind of ceremony. Everybody is happy and I hope this will last forever.

Perfect. Caleb signaled to the other hunters, wordless gestures that Damon had learned over weeks of practice. They moved into position, surrounding the buck, cutting off its escape. The buck sensed something wrong. It raised its head, nostrils flaring, eyes scanning. But it could not see the hunters, still hidden in the trees, still downwind, still patient. Caleb drew his bow. Damon watched, barely breathing, as his father aimed and released. The arrow flew straight and true, striking the buck behind the shoulder, piercing its heart. The animal staggered, took two steps, and fell.