It was mid-June, and still no sign of the new Hunter.

The American army was moving forward in Cuba but was still facing stiff opposition and mounting casualties. This was reflected in a national recruitment drive to bolster army numbers, with some even hinting in the press that the National Guard might be deployed to the country.

The Illegal Strike Suppression Act was being debated within Congress. President Fredrickson sponsored this act to help prevent future strikes within the nation. From the muted news reports in the Crossway Chronicle, I read that it faced more opposition than expected. The Portland Times reported widespread union-based protests nationwide. This drove more working-class people to join the unions as they saw the federal authorities infringing on their civil liberties.

"I wonder how this will turn out?"

I vaguely remember that there was much social upheaval across the industrialised nations during this time, representing the end of what they called the "Gilded Age" in America. I am unsure if this was a more intense period of social unrest, which was always in line with my world. Social and political history was never my forte.

Summer was in full effect, and the days rolled on.

I have been considering buying the land across the river for the past few weeks. A farmer was now tilling the land there, and his crops were growing. I still had a substantial amount of financial capital left in my Crypts and wondered if I should use it to buy that land. I can extend the forest to cover that land.

So far, I had decided against it, but I was still considering it.

I had used this quiet time to wander the Dungeon. The central two rings were now extremely dense with mausoleums and graves. They were densely packed areas featuring trees, statues, and various other features. Natural alleyways had formed within them, many leading to dead ends, but a few could be considered shortcuts for cutting through between the ring pathways that make up the Dungeon's maze.

During my first few years, I had never considered the extent of my graveyard and the issues it might cause. After speaking with Herbert and Amy, I understood that most graveyards typically cover only a few acres. My over 1200 acres was a future issue that had never occurred to me. Just how large will New Midian become? I had initially envisioned creating a necropolis, and looking at my dungeon surface area right now, I was well on the way.

Now I realise that might be a problem.

Unfortunately, the die is cast, and my decisions were final when I made them. I had to work with what I had chosen to do and deal with the consequences when they came.

July arrived, and things continued as they had been when things were quiet in my local area. I still occasionally spotted the mysterious outriders stalking around the edges of my claimed forest area. I had thought about sending out a Hunter or two to go and introduce themselves to these riders to see what they were up to, but I had decided against it.

I only found out about something that happened on 16 July a few days later when it was reported in the Portland Times. The Anglo-Japanese Treaty of Commerce and Navigation had been signed. The treaty was extensive, but it had the following significant points: The British Empire relinquished its extraterritorial rights within Japan. Both nations would respect the boundaries of their imperial territories and agreed on ways to resolve any issues that arose without resorting to violence. Finally, the Japanese Imperial Navy agreed to a technology-sharing agreement to buy many British-made warships. This was in response to the Imperial Russian Far East and Navy being supplied with German-made warships.

The Russians protested, but little else was done at the time.

The day after I read the article on the new treaty, I saw Herbert and his elder son moving through the forest. He was moving, and both were armed, which indicated that he was teaching his son how to hunt. How old was the boy, now nine or ten?

Where was the time going?

Amy's recent visit to the Dungeon also started making more sense, as it was getting close to the time that the boy would be introduced to the deal his family had made and explained that he might have to take up the role upon his father's death.

"A couple more years. I think I'll wait until the boy is sixteen. Yes, sixteen, that's a good age."

I had always planned on this, but the fact that the time was rapidly approaching when I would have to act upon these plans was a bit disconcerting. I had watched the decades pass, but I remained largely untouched in many ways, and seeing the actual results of those who work for me growing older was a revelation.

I started seeing Joshua out more with his father as the weeks progressed. Herbert made sure never to bring the boy close to the Dungeon, but I can see the boy looking at the walls when they were inside, through the trees. I suspected he had many questions about this place that his family was not answering.

August arrived, bringing a new war to the global stage. The Sino-Japanese War broke out on the first of the month over events happening in Korea. Things were still dragging on in Cuba, with the US military now controlling half the island. It was only a matter of time before the Parlamentarios were defeated. Only the intervention of another power would save them, but from the looks of it, that would not happen.

Still no sign of my new Hunter.

Congress votes on the Illegal Strike Suppression Act, and it passes. It faces far more scrutiny in the Senate but eventually passes there. As soon as the president signs the act, it is likely to face a legal challenge from several state governors and is expected to be brought before the Supreme Court shortly thereafter.

September arrives, and I expect the weather to start changing soon, but summer hasn't let go of its hold yet. In response to sweatshop working conditions, an estimated 15,000 tailors went on strike again in New York. It was one of the most significant strikes in the city for many years. President Fredrickson asked the governor to call the National Guard to break the strike, but the governor refused. He then implemented the new act and sent in the federalised National Guardsmen.

The National Guard was present, but their commanding officer kept a distance from the strikers, allowing the New York police department to handle the situation. The standoff lasted over a week before a deal was reached between the strikers and the sweatshop owners.

Reactions to the new act were mixed, with some calling it a success and others labelling it a failure. During that period, harsh words were reported between the Democratic president and the Republican state governor.

I looked around the area to figure out why I hadn't seen anyone coming to the Dungeon. For the number of intruders and Challengers, this was one of the quietest years I've ever had.

The problem was that I jinxed myself thinking about this.

It was the end of September when something quite unexpected happened.

It was late in the day, and the Driver family approached the gates. Having Amy or Herbert coming to the gates was not unusual, but bringing their children was new. What concerned me was the group of six heavily armed men walking alongside them.

"What the hell is this?"

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I shifted my view to the gates to get more information on what was happening.

The Driver family was afraid. The younger children were clinging to their mother as they walked. Amy carried the youngest. Herbert and Joshua, both of whom bore signs of injuries to their faces.

I was not hesitant and reached out to all the Hunters.

"Get ready, I am going to have you all inflict a biblical amount of violence on some men coming here."

I sensed confusion and eagerness. My tone, I suspect, was something they had not heard before.

I was not angry, I was mad.

For the first time in twenty-four years, I was feeling a human emotion in its entirety.

I focused on the group's approach.

"… you will guide us to where the money is hidden." Came from the grizzled older man who seemed to be the leader. Dressed in rugged clothing, leaning to a way of life dying out as the wild west was pacified. He looked tough and mean, with a large grey beard that was greyer than black.

Foresight was a wonderful thing. I had planned for a similar eventuality with the Way of Athamos, and I had told Herbert and Amy what to do if this ever happened. Hopefully, they would remember their instructions.

"Look, there's no need for violence. I'll take you there, just let my family go." Herbert spoke to the older man. Good, he was following my instructions to get his family out of danger first.

"No, son, we're taking them with us to make sure you behave. Now, any more yammering and I will be forced to hit you again."

Right, that wasn't good, but again, planned for.

They cross through the gates. Herbert made no movement that would alert his captors, but he was looking around, trying to see if I was present. Amy was more focused on her children, but she, too, was paying more attention to her surroundings now. They knew what lived here.

He turned south and started walking. The group turned with him.

[Alert! Intruders are not recognised as Challengers.]

"We have six heavily armed men holding the Driver family hostage. They will be led to a junction in the maze where you will ambush them. I want them to suffer, so take them alive if you can, kill if you must. No harm must come to the Driver family."

The Hunters never responded to my instructions because they all heard and understood them. I had kept Herbert apprised of where the ambush would take place every time the Dungeon's size and complexity increased. He began leading the group there.

"Where are you taking this lad?" The leader asked.

"The church, that's where the money is hidden." Herbert was nervous in his reply. His eldest was looking at the men defiantly. If there was going to be a problem here, it might come from him.

"The church? It might be an obvious place to hide it." The man reasoned.

"The place is abandoned. The money is stored in a crypt under the church. Most folk don't go looking inside coffins for money in these parts." Good Herbert was given in the story that I had explained to him. Lure them in, and I will do the rest.

The group's leader snorted but didn't say anything more, and the others were looking around for any signs of trouble. They now discounted Herbert and his family as a source of danger, as they were beaten down and obedient.

They continued walking, and the group's leader grew increasingly concerned about their surroundings. He sensed something was off, but didn't know what it was.

"This is a mighty large graveyard. How long has it been here?" He asked.

"As long as I've been alive," Herbert answered.

"Odd. Mighty odd." He said as they continued walking deeper into the maze.

By now, my Hunters had moved quickly and were taking a position. I had Herbert walk the path after my last level up and calculated that anyone who knew the route would take 40 minutes to walk from the gate to the church at a steady pace.

They were good 20 minutes into the Dungeon now and approaching the ambush point. The group's leader was growing increasingly agitated as he tried to determine the danger he suspected was present. This was making the others more agitated as well, as they sensed his concern even as he was trying to hide it.

"This place is too odd. It's far too large." He began saying. He began to slow his pace, his agitation now showing openly.

Come on! Just a little further.

"It's not much further, will be there in a few minutes," Herbert told him, and the man looked at him sharply.

"How much further?" He demanded.

"Look, you can see the church we are near." Herbert pointed across the graves and mausoleums to the church, which was now visible. From the way the maze was laid out, it brought you in closer, but became more complicated as it did so.

"Very well, lad. We know this: if you're messing us around, you will all suffer for it." Came the threat.

Herbert said nothing but nodded and continued walking. They reached the junction where the ambush would take place. They were deep within the Dungeon, in one of its more densely populated areas. Graves and mausoleums were tightly packed here, which allowed my Hunters to hide quite close to the path.

I shifted my perspective within the group. Right up to the man standing behind Amy with a gun pointed no longer in her direction. He had a second one in his holster. I prepared to summon my avatar. I was going to participate in this event today.

"Go."

With that word, my Hunters moved, and so did I.

I brought forth my avatar, which caused the man to scream an alarm. I reached out and grabbed his second gun, pulling it from its holster, and cocked it as I pulled it out. I pointed up and pulled the trigger. The bullet didn't travel under his chin and into his head as I hoped, but ripped up through his face. He fell back, screaming in pain as blood erupted from the jagged scar across his features.

Amy and Herbert had grabbed the children and thrown themselves to the floor.

The other five had all turned their attention towards me and were pointing their guns, preparing to fire. I wasn't bothered, knowing my avatar could withstand several bullets before I dismissed it or had it dissolve. The distraction I had caused allowed my Hunters to attack without endangering the Driver family.

Two bullets slammed into my body, and I sensed that the avatar construct was severely damaged but was still able to function for now. The Hunters were engaging the distracted men, and the fight was firmly in their favour.

It took several tense minutes for the five men to be overwhelmed by my Hunters. Kicks, punches, and a few stab wounds were inflicted while the men were disarmed and pacified.

"Herbert, take your family and go."

Neither of them needed any more encouragement and grabbed their children. The younger ones were crying in fear, but Joshua, the older one, was looking around, shocked at what he saw. I had wanted to introduce myself in this way, but we had to work with what we had. He recognised a few of the Hunters from visits to his home.

It seemed I would have to move forward with my plans with him.

Many of the men were lying on the floor, either restrained or too severely wounded to be a threat right now. The man I had shot was clutching his face and screaming in pain.

I waited until Herbert and his family were gone.

I turned around and motioned for the leader of the group to be picked up. Roberson had caught him, and the man was missing a hand. He was clutching the bloody stump desperately trying to stop the blood pumping from it. I walked up to him and as I did so, I shot the man I had in the face, already through the skull, silencing him.

The man's face had gone pale through blood loss, but I could see the horror and terror in his eyes.

"Right. Let's have a chat."

It turns out that killing somebody didn't add to my kill count.

In the end, he was the lucky one. The other five took several more days to shuffle off the mortal coil.

What disturbed me was not the sadistic ways that my Hunters took pleasure in what they did, but how easy it was for me to allow it to happen. This was one of the most evident signs of my drifting from my human beginnings. I took no pleasure from any of it, unlike my Hunters, who were having a great time during those days. I had never killed before, and that man was my first, yet I did it without a moment's hesitation and felt nothing after it.

I learned from my Hunter's "aggressive interrogation" of the men that they were down-on-their-luck cattle hands and part-time bandits who were looking for an easy score. They had heard that Herbert had money, and many in the town suspected that he was hiding here in the graveyard. They decided to try their luck and see if it was through; if it weren't, they would just kill Herbert and his family.

They had heard some stories about the graveyard but dismissed them as fairy tales and local gossip. They came to regret that.

What was left of the five men was being buried now, and I was planning to have the Hunters run down the money that we had gathered from the corpses to Herbert. He, however, decided to come to me first.

I was on top of the spatial bubble looking out across the world while the graves were being dug, and I noticed his approach. The money had been collected and was already in the courtyard, ready for transportation to his home. I shifted my position down to the courtyard, and some of my avatar as he approached.

"Herbert."

I greeted him.

"Keeper." He was much more hesitant today, and he had generally been like this after seeing something brutal and bloody.

"There's a wallet over there with some money for you."

I indicated the hiding place, knowing he would find it in his own time. Something had attracted my attention beyond him, though, and I looked out to the tree line and spotted a face quickly darting away.

"Your eldest followed you."

Herbert turned, swearing, and called on the boy. He didn't appear at first, and I respected his ability to remain hidden. But another bout of swearing and threats from his father forced him to appear.

I intervened before he ordered him home.

"Have him come to the gates."

Herbert looked at me with concern in his eyes. He didn't want that to happen just yet and understood why.

"I know. I wanted to wait another few years before we had this conversation, but it's time now, it seems."

"Keeper is too young." I heard the concern of a father for his son in Herbert's voice. I respected that, but the die was cast.

"Best do it now. You know what boys are like. He will pester you or do something more reckless and come directly here."

Herbert looked at me, and I could see sadness inside him. He turned and waved the boy towards us.

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