Chapter 11: National hunter on a visit. Rejected.
First person
Morning, 6:00AM
Gym room
After everyone was completely wasted and the next day was a national holiday, everyone was sleeping in my house instead of going home. Not that I minded. I had four hours of sleep to replenish energy and get rid of any fatigue I had.
"It is quite unbelievable." I muttered while lifting 50kg in each arm while shadowboxing with them. My power was increasing at an astonishing rate. By now I had to make muscle training an habitual routine doing basics like sit ups, crunches, pushups, chin ups and weight lifting etc.
My muscles, which should have been aching from yesterday's brief but intense training from the bunker, felt fresh. Better than fresh, actually. Each situp, squad and crunches felt denser, more responsive.
Each punch, each curl, sent a thrumming energy through me, a tangible sense of growth that was far beyond the normal results of a workout. It was like my body was a sponge, and every drop of exertion was being absorbed and converted into raw power at an accelerated rate.
I finished all my sets, setting the weights down with a heavy clang that echoed in the concrete room for a few hours. Wiping the sweat from my brow with my forearm, I felt it. A presence. It wasn't a sound or a sight, but a pressure against my senses, an irritant at the edge of my awareness.
Someone was outside. Someone whose aura felt… sharp. Cold. Deliberate. It was the same feeling I'd felt in the hotel last night, but this one was more focused, waiting.
My guard up, I grabbed a towel and headed for the front door, my bare feet silent on the cool marble floors. I didn't bother checking through the peephole. I already knew who it wasn't. It wasn't one of my hungover guests, and it wasn't a delivery.
I pulled the heavy door open.
Standing on my front step, impeccably dressed in a hawaii shirt or beach outfit despite the casual hour, was a man I immediately recognized. He was tall, with a lean, athletic build and sharp, calculating eyes that seemed to be dissecting me from the moment the door opened.
His aura was like polished steel—controlled, dangerous, and utterly devoid of warmth.
"Jotaro Joestar," he said. It wasn't a question. His voice was smooth, cold, but with an undercurrent of authority that grated on my nerves. "My name is Andre. We met last night. I am a National hunter as you already know. I'm also the leader of the scavenger guild of america. And I'm here to recruit you."
I leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms. The faint scent of expensive cologne wafted from him. "Get to the point."
A flicker of something—annoyance, perhaps—crossed his face before being smoothed away. "We represent a collective that values strength, potential, and vision. Qualities you possess in spades. Your… unique development has not gone unnoticed. We are extending an invitation. An opportunity to join us. To hone your abilities for a purpose far greater than lifting weights in a private gym."
He spoke of it like a business proposal, a merger and acquisition. I could feel the subtext beneath his words: *You are a resource. We wish to acquire you.*
"No."
The single word hung in the air between us. Andre's polished demeanor didn't crack, but his eyes hardened. The temperature around us seemed to drop a few degrees.
"I'm afraid you don't understand the magnitude of this offer," he continued, his voice losing some of its smoothness. "The world is changing. Lines are being drawn. To stand alone is to stand against the future. We can offer you knowledge, resources, and power beyond your current comprehension."
"I said no," I repeated, my voice flat and cold. "I'm not interested in joining your 'collective' or whatever shadowy guild you're selling. I'm not a resource to be acquired. Now get off my property."
For a moment, we just stared at each other. The tension was a palpable thing, a tightening cord. Then, Andre gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod. It wasn't a gesture of defeat, but of dismissal.
"Very well, Mr. Fujiwara," he said, his tone now laced with a chilling finality. "A pity. Potential wasted is always a tragedy. Do remember that opportunities, once refused, have a habit of turning into obligations."
He turned and walked away, his movements precise and economical, not a single step wasted. I watched him until he disappeared down the long, tree-lined driveway, the cold pressure of his aura receding with him. I closed the door, the click of the lock echoing in the sudden silence.
…..
…..
I was still standing by the door, the chill of Andre's presence clinging to me like a shroud, when I heard the soft shuffle of feet on the marble floor. I turned to see Martha, Gwen, and Jane emerging from the hallway, all looking rough. Gwen was rubbing her temples, Jane was yawning into her fist, and Martha, ever the stoic one, just looked tired.
"Morning, boss," Gwen mumbled, her voice raspy. "Who was at the door? You looked like you were about to punch the sun."
Martha's eyes, sharp despite her fatigue, were narrowed in thought. "That presence… it wasn't friendly. Who was it, Jotaro?"
I sighed, running a hand through my damp hair. There was no point in hiding it; they'd see right through a lie. "USA National Hunter."
The effect was instantaneous. Gwen's hand dropped from her head, her eyes wide. Jane stopped mid-yawn, her jaw hanging slightly. Even Martha looked taken aback.
"A Hunter National?" Gwen repeated, her voice a mix of disbelief and excitement like afan girl. "Like, a government-licensed badass? What did he want from you at this time?"
"To recruit me," I said, walking past them towards the kitchen to get some water. I could feel their eyes on my back, their surprise radiating through the room. 'They should be curious why nobody gets a personal invitation.'
"Recruit you for what?" Jane asked, following close behind as I predicted they all are unable to digest because it is a big thing. "Wait, does that mean… are you a Hunter?"
I grabbed a glass from the cabinet and filled it, the sound of the faucet filling the tense silence. I turned and leaned against the counter, facing them.
"No. I'm not a Hunter," I stated clearly. "He was here to offer me a spot. I rejected it. Not respectfully."
Gwen blinked. "You rejected it? Why the hell would you do that? Do you know what kind of opportunities that opens up? The gear, the information, the pay!" She passes some plus points which mean nothing to me. My happiness lies somewhere else.
"Because I don't want it," I said, my tone leaving no room for argument. "I want to live a normal life, if that's even possible anymore."
Martha studied my face, her expression unreadable. "His offer was a demand, wasn't it?" she said, her voice low. "And your rejection… it wasn't just a refusal. It was a statement."
I looked at her, appreciating that she understood. "Exactly. Andre didn't like that. He made it clear that refusing them has consequences."
The excitement in Gwen's eyes had been replaced by a dawning realization. The reality of the situation was sinking in. This wasn't a cool job offer; it was a summons from a powerful, shadowy entity that didn't take no for an answer.
"So much for a normal life," Jane muttered, sinking into a barstool. "They know where you live. They know what you are."
"Yeah," I agreed, taking a long drink of water. "So much for that." The peaceful morning had been shattered. The holiday was over before it had even begun. The hunters were here, and I had just put a target on my back.