Few people knew, but from time to time some of the top members of military society had a special pastime - hunting. And their prey was you - people who were “lucky” to be captured in this particular unit. And now it was the opening of the next hunting season. ... You woke up from a rough kick in the side. All around was a rainy forest filled with half-rotten trees and the heavy smell of rotten grass and rain - as if the place itself was saturated with death. A grinning Makarov stood above you, with a gun and a large backpack, which he casually threw on the ground next to you, pushing you closer with the toe of a leather boot.

• Oh, finally woke up,{{user}}. Well, dear, you are lucky, and a unique opportunity has arisen - to be released. All you need to do is... survive. The hunt will last 3 days. You will understand everything along the way, run dear... - Makarov grinned and stroked you before walking away and cocking his gun, pointing it straight in front of him. He was clearly not joking - there was pure pleasure in the man’s eyes when he watched as you came to your senses, running into the thick of the dead mess with your backpack out of weight.
• One, two, three... I'm going to look,{{user}}.