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Dr. Chan was deep in conversation with a street vendor, the two crouched by a stone platform, each puffing on hand-rolled tobacco. They sent plumes of smoke into the air, as if the mastery of forming perfect rings determined their worth.
The tobacco—whose origin was a mystery—burned sharp, stinging like a spoonful of mustard forced up the nose. Tears pricked at Dr. Chan's eyes, but he still took a hearty inhale, as if savoring the pain was part of some sacred ritual.
A gust of mountain wind swept down through the cavern's opening, sending their clothes fluttering and distorting the light on the rock walls. It was as if the shadows themselves paused to witness this grand display of exaggerated storytelling.
"Let me tell you," Dr. Chan exhaled a puff of smoke and began speaking slowly,"when I was young, I really saw a werewolf in the forest—its arms were thicker than your waist, and its eyes were yellow! It charged straight at me, the wind howling like a typhoon. An ordinary person would've been scared out of their shoes. But who am I? I stayed calm, casually reached for my weapon…"(ref The Night of Hunting Game-Nightmare at Dawn 1)
The vendor leaned in, eyes wide. "And then? How did you kill it?"
Dr. Chan grinned. "I didn't. I just stared at it—one look was enough. It knew today wasn't its lucky day."
"Whoa, my friend, your presence alone could scare off a dragon!" the vendor shot back without missing a beat.
"But let me tell you, I've had my own brush with danger. Once, deep in the mountains, I spotted some guy in a long black coat relieving himself against a tree. I walked right up and gave him a firm slap on the back. When he turned around—well, turns out, it was a massive black bear. Lucky for me, the bear seemed embarrassed and just wandered off. Probably thought I was too much trouble to mess with."
Laughter erupted between them, and they slapped their palms together in celebration. Smoke burst into the air as if sealing a pact between two masters of tall tales.
To any observer, they might have seemed like old friends reuniting after years apart—though in truth, they had only just met.
Nearby, a lanky vendor shook his head and muttered,"At this rate, you'll claim you can punch a bear dead in one go."
A scruffy old mushroom seller chimed in,"Yeah, these stories belong in the Bible—right between Moses parting the sea and Jesus walking on water."
The crowd erupted in laughter, but Dr. Chan and the vendor remained unfazed, puffing their tobacco as if that alone made them invincible.
From a distance, Maverick spotted familiar faces and quickened his pace. Dr. Chan squinted as he exhaled a perfect smoke ring, clearly showing off. Maverick waved the smoke aside, raising an eyebrow at him."Dr. Chan, your injuries healed already?"
He eyed him closely, scrutinizing every detail."You recover fast."
"Ah, all thanks to good genes!" Dr. Chan chuckled, giving his chest a proud pat. He took a final deep drag from his cigarette, squinted, and exhaled another smoke ring."Here, try one—this stuff is the real deal."
Maverick shook his head."Not happening."
Dr. Chan was feeling extra chatty today, grinning as he prodded further."Then tell me, kid—got anything good to trade with my new friend here for some of his fine tobacco?"
Maverick answered with utmost seriousness."No."
He'd caught the strange scent the moment he approached—it wasn't ordinary tobacco. Some kind of herb must have been roasted into the leaves.
"Don't lie. I saw you collecting a pile of supplies!"
"That's for the Big Chef Lady. She saved our hides—we can't just freeload."
Dr. Chan scoffed."Why so much? Come on, come on!" Without another word, he grabbed Maverick by the arm and dragged him toward the Big Chef Lady's stall, throwing a parting shout to the vendor."Save me two of the best leaves!"
The vendor slapped the pile of thick tobacco leaves beside him, signaling his agreement.
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The Big Chef Lady's stall sat at the heart of the market, flames crackling beneath skewers of sizzling meat. Oil dripped onto the coals, sending bursts of smoky sweetness into the air, tinged with the wild scent of firewood. The aroma made Maverick swallow hard—despite his wariness, his stomach betrayed him.
"Eat up!" the Big Chef Lady laughed, tossing him a golden-crisp skewer. Her apron was stained, her stance firm—a true professional. That is, if one ignored the dubious origins of her ingredients.
Maverick hesitated and stole a glance at Dr. Chan. But the man had already taken a bite, chewing without emotion, then nodding approvingly."Mm. Good. Really good."
Maverick frowned."…That's it? You're not even going to ask what it is?"
He took the skewer hesitantly and looked up."Can I ask—what kind of meat is this?"
The Big Chef Lady grinned, flashing sharp teeth."Sure you wanna know?"
Maverick hesitated. Then, deciding ignorance was bliss, he took a bite. The meat was dense, smoky, and surprisingly delicious—enough to make him push away his doubts.
"Bats," the Big Chef Lady declared cheerfully—only after he had swallowed.
Maverick gagged. Dr. Chan cackled in delight.
Beside the fire, a young man accepted his skewer but didn't eat right away. Instead, he stared at the vegetable skewers on the counter, his expression conflicted.
The Big Chef Lady gave him a knowing look, arms crossed."You planning to starve yourself, kid?"
The young man flinched, falling silent. He stared down at his food as if it were his mortal enemy. Eventually, he relented, nibbling at it with a deep frown.
Maverick studied him—pale-skinned, as if sunlight rarely touched him. His clothes were oversized, clearly swapped out for something more fitting here. Maverick's gaze drifted downward, catching a glimpse of his shoes—tactical boots, worn and dirty, with a faded shield emblem on the side.
"You're quiet," Maverick said, biting into a skewer.
The young man didn't respond, poking at the fire instead.
"Hard to keep a fire going here, huh? Too much damp wood."
"…Yeah."
Maverick nodded."I'm Maverick."
The young man hesitated, then mumbled,"Yeah."
The Big Chef Lady snorted from behind the stall."Don't bother, kid. He's not much for conversation."
Dr. Chan leaned back, throwing in a dry remark."The quiet ones are the dangerous ones."
The young man tilted his head, eyeing them both warily. After a pause, he murmured,"Shen Lu."
"Sounds like a rich kid's name," Maverick quipped.
Shen Lu didn't respond, poking at the fire with slow, deliberate movements.
Maverick smirked."Your family—big shot politicians? Military? Some tech empire?"
Shen Lu kept his head down."No reason to tell you."
Maverick examined his boots again and clicked his tongue. Then, he crouched beside him.
"Where'd you come from?"
"Outside." His answer was curt, cold.
Dr. Chan sighed, nudging Maverick with his foot."Give it up!"
He had already scored a hefty serving of skewers from the generous Big Chef Lady and was eager to trade them for the tobacco.
But Maverick wasn't done."Where outside? I know District 19 well."
Shen Lu flicked a glance at him—then said nothing.
Maverick narrowed his eyes."How long have you been hunting? How many have you killed? How many more do you plan to?"
Shen Lu's pupils shrank, his entire body stiffening.
Dr. Chan and the Big Chef Lady snapped their heads around in shock.
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