The Max-Level Hunter Returns 34: "Is the Investigation Over?"
The outpost, which had been peaceful in the evening, was now filled with commotion. The hunters moved busily, and Muel, arriving at the spot led by the scouts, asked her subordinates with a hardened expression.
"Yes. There are three bodies in total. The other two were found quite a distance away. Judging by their clothing, they seem to be from the Bipung Tribe."
"Bipung Tribe? Aren't they the ones living on the great plains above the desert? Why would they come all the way down here?"
Muel frowned slightly at Amta's response and shot back.
The Bipung Tribe... The great plains where they live are indeed far from the southern desert. Plus, their hunting methods are completely different, so it'd be tough for them to take down spiders here.
They were one of the three factions living on the great plains between the central regions and the southern desert: the Raksha Family, the Bipung Tribe, and the Tanram Sect.
Unlike the desert tribes that make hunting their sole profession, these three powers on the plains each have their own specialties.
The Raksha Family were merchants who capitalized on their position connecting the central lands and the desert for trade, while the Tanram were mercenaries. Only the last faction, the Bipung Tribe, were hunters wielding bows like the desert clans.
The Bipung Tribe is known for shooting arrows much farther than the Ulan Tribe and with greater precision.
But the bows they used were different from the Ulan Tribe's—long, slender thin bows that were perfect for hunting leather-skinned beasts and monsters on the plains but ill-suited for the armored bugs of the desert.
Why would people like this... come all the way here?
Even Adel had many questions about their deaths, wondering if they were one of the causes of the great disaster that would soon strike Shallon.
There's still too little to go on. I need to gather more pieces of the puzzle.
It wasn't certain, but something was definitely about to happen. Adel didn't want to just stop the incident—he aimed to uncover the culprit behind it.
"What, it's no big deal, right? The plains are entering winter too, aren't they, Muel?"
Syrin spoke in a voice devoid of emotion as he glanced at the corpses.
"What does that mean?"
"The cold hits the plains faster than the desert. Word is the plains tribes are starving. They must've come down looking for food. But they underestimated the desert, that's for sure. Guys who lived on peaceful plains couldn't cross it."
Thud. Thud.
Syrin prodded the corpses with his toe as if mocking the dead, sneering. Muel shot him a displeased glance at his behavior.
...Hm?
While everyone was irked by Syrin's words and actions, Adel focused on the fallen body.
"Amta. Can we see the other bodies too?"
Only one of the three corpses was in front of them. The Jackal Corps was bringing the other two.
"They'll be here soon if we wait... but you want to check now?"
"Yes. I have some questions. It'd be best to move quickly if we can see them first. The night is finite, and our rest time is limited."
Adel glanced subtly at Hul as he spoke. Delaying meant Hul's departure time would be pushed back, making things harder for him. Amta, catching on, smiled warmly—unlike before.
"That's the right attitude. You brought Cargone, right? Follow me."
"Thank you."
"Hmph, what do you think you'll figure out? A punk who's barely been in the desert for a year."
Syrin sneered at Adel as he followed Amta.
"That kid who's only been here a year broke Hien's ritual record, became the only one to receive Cargone, and is now joining the sweep. Syrin, have you achieved even one of Adel's honors at the same age?"
Muel finally interjected. Syrin's face crumpled at her rebuke.
"Muel. Sure, that arrogant brat's done impressive stuff for a kid, but it's just personal achievements."
Syrin growled.
"I don't think what I've done so far is child's play compared to his."
"But he clearly beat you on Hunt Day."
"Just luck. But without my Beast Corps, the southern desert might've been at war with the central five kingdoms long ago. That's no fluke."
She sighed softly at his words. He was right—the Beast Corps' border defense efforts were undeniable. Still, she hoped he'd gain some caution through Adel.
"Right. Hien gave you that heavy duty because you're the most war-talented among the brothers. But a heavy duty means your words need weight too."
"The Jackal Corps' leader, the wildest and freest in the Ulan Tribe's hunter squads, talking about weight... You're getting old, trying to preach something that doesn't suit you."
Muel just shrugged at Syrin's retort.
"Let's go. To show tomorrow's hunt with the most kills, we need rest. Hunters need to hunt well— no need to play tracker."
"Yeah, yeah, bro."
Syrin muttered as if to Adel, and Yoran followed, eyeing him nervously.
He's still got a long way to go. Syrin, that childish rivalry won't help in a real fight.
Muel thought, watching his back.
Compared to the central kingdoms' throne struggles, your sibling rivalry is just kids' play.
She'd never cared about the central kingdoms, but seeing the brothers' fights, she thought showing them a kingdom's ways might not be bad.
The desert is as fierce as the center, if not more—never abundant. So you need to be cold and calculating. Hien adopted kids outside his bloodline to spark that caution.
Muel sighed wearily.
"Bro Syrin's on edge the whole sweep. He talks big, but he can't help envying Adel's feats. The other brothers too."
Hul, watching Syrin's back like her, added.
"All we have over Adel is a few more years. He'll stand out most among the brothers."
"You talk like you have no interest in the throne."
"Yes. I just wish the brothers wouldn't fight. That's why I support Merka too. But... it seems harder as time goes."
Thud.
"Brotherly love in the desert... Doubt it. I think that naivety gets stabbed first."
Muel shook her head, patting Hul's shoulder.
"Haha. If that's fate."
Hul just gave a bitter smile.
"Here."
After riding Cargone from the main camp for about five minutes at full speed, Amta spotted the group transporting the bodies.
"Whoa, whoa."
Adel pulled the reins, stopping.
"Cargone with dragon blood, huh? Not even winded—definitely a fine beast."
Unlike his own heaving Cargone, Adel's seemed eager for more. Amta eyed it enviously.
"Mine's no ordinary breed either. Born and raised in the rocky western gorges full of treacherous mountains..."
"Amta. I know your Cargone's plenty good. Mine's just a bit better. Don't be too jealous."
Ragnel—ancient for "red pearl"—was Adel's Cargone's name.
Amta looked sheepish at Adel's words. For a hunter, getting an exceptional Cargone was a once-in-a-lifetime chance—one of the most important things.
[Prrr...]
Amta's Cargone shook its head like it was sulking.
"You showed an embarrassing side. Forget my nonsense."
"Already forgotten."
Adel chuckled at him.
"Anyway, find anything? Hate to say it, but I'd love if you spotted what we missed."
"Why?"
"Hunter's courtesy, I guess."
The burly man talking courtesy seemed the least fitting for it.
"Your three older brothers found the Bipung bodies but didn't care much. The plains tribes are distant, sure... but they were just focused on the sweep."
Amta said while setting down the two bodies.
"Other tribes don't register with them. Ulan's the desert hegemon, no doubt, but I think we need more exchange with others."
"Why?"
"Isolation leads to ruin. The central kingdoms are still fighting, but a winner will emerge. Then they'll turn those blades on us."
Adel nodded at his words.
"We have work to do before that—unify or ally. Plenty of desert tribes left. Not afraid of fights, but for peace of mind, we need strong plains ties."
To think someone like this exists in the tribe.
Adel was genuinely impressed by Amta's unexpected insight.
"Amta."
"Yeah?"
"You really can't judge by looks. Hope you stick around the tribe long."
"Kid. I'm healthier than you know. I'll outlive you, don't worry."
Amta looked baffled, like it was absurd.
"I'm serious."
In his past life, Amta died right here. Adel's heart raced thinking of the unforeseen talents he'd save for a stronger future.
They'll make the desert—and me—stronger.
Adel leaned down to examine the two bodies, then nodded confidently.
"Amta. Look at this. The first body too—these two all have torn chest wounds. Not sliced clean, but roughly ripped."
"Hm, probably monster claws. Knife cuts would've been cleaner."
"What if it's meant to look that way?"
"What do you mean?"
Amta tilted his head at Adel's words.
"Look closely. The first body's edge was ragged too. But there's a difference from these two. These have less blood pooled—faintly, but the initial cut was clean."
Adel casually reached into the wound, wiping blood with his hand.
Kid does what even adults won't.
Amta let out an involuntary chuckle at his boldness.
"See? Claw marks should've pooled blood, but none. Means a clean cut first, then roughed up to hide it."
Adel scanned around.
"They faked these two to match the first."
"Hm... Who?"
"Guess we'll find out. But if these deaths were staged..."
Adel said.
Shallon disaster...
He thought.
If the cause that claimed over a hundred hunters' lives wasn't a monster, but a person...
This might not be simple deaths.
Not an accident—a murder.