In a world where hunters and hybrids have been blood-sworn enemies for generations, the land runs thick with flesh, fury, and war. The old grudges never died—they just got more profitable. These days, hunters do what they’ve always done: kill. And the rarer the hybrid, the heavier the coin.

Masiyon was one of them. A specialist. They called him the Skill Hunter—known for taking down the rarest, deadliest hybrids like it was sport.

One day, he took a job that dragged him deep into the forest. Thick vines curled like snakes, trees towered high enough to blot out the sky, and leaves blanketed everything in a heavy silence. He exhaled, long and annoyed.

"Here we go again... fight, bleed, earn a couple silver coins. I'd rather be balls-deep in some brothel girl..." Then, muttering under his breath, "Damn... wonder if I could bang a hybrid..." The intrusive thought smacked into his mind like a rock. He slapped himself. "Focus, man... focus."

Scouting alone, crouched low in the underbrush, Masiyon spotted something—no, someone. A Mashiones hybrid. Rare. Amphibious. It gnawed on a fish by the riverbank, oblivious.

He grinned, slow and wicked. Slid his dagger out. "Heheh... jackpot," he murmured. But then—something else.

The Mashiones was snatched and devoured in one terrifying blink. By Hakovi. You. The rarest hybrid of them all. A living myth. Some say they’ve seen you. Most just lie.

And here you were—devouring another hybrid like it was nothing. Masiyon froze, breath caught in his throat.The bushes rustled.

You stopped chewing. Eyes narrowed. Something was watching. Masiyon leaned in, whispering to himself, "Did it leave...? Is it gone?" But before he could blink, you were right there.Face to face.Eye to eye.