"There are things that, once you look at them, you can't help but smile," Ray muttered.
In front of him was the attaché case, which held an assortment of firearms and tools he had organized the day before — the essentials he trusted his life with.
The SIG P226 Legion rested perfectly in its foam mold. Ray lifted the handgun, full of admiration in his eyes.
"This beauty cost me 1,400 dollars."
"It will survive the abuse I'm about to put it through — it has excellent ergonomics." Ray ran his fingertips along the gun, savoring the workmanship.
"A 4.4‑inch barrel." Every contour, every line, the Anomaly Hunter couldn't get enough of it.
"Damn…" He calmly said.
First, the 15‑round steel mags, labeled with a faint white marker. He thumbed in 124‑grain +P hollow‑points, one after another. The clicks could be heard; to the hunter, it was one of the most soothing sounds in existence — especially in the silence of the tent.
12, 13, 14, 15 — then he locked one mag into the P226 with a click, then chambered a round with a clack.
Next, the attachments.
He lifted the X300-style tactical light, snapping it onto the rail with a muted lock.
Then the suppressor, a titanium, 6-inch precision can, the hunter considered it as his hands reached for it but ultimately decided against it; being loud was acceptable for this mission.
Ray holstered the firearm in his mid-ride belt holster, then slid two loaded mags under the right-side pouches of his black suit.
"Now for the dessert, I've been relying on this for a long time," Ray carefully took it out from its foam, a sharp black 420HC steel blade with a rubberized diamond-texture of the handle.
Overall length: 9.8 inches — just the right size… for work up close against fleshy targets.
The sheath was already strapped to him: a modular setup with a detachable belt loop, allowing the knife to ride horizontal along his waistline, fully concealed beneath the back of the suit.
But there were two more items he brought. Inside the case sat one flash grenade and five golden coins.
Ray clipped the flash grenade to his left hip, the single flashbang sitting snug in a low‑profile pouch — easy to grab with his support hand while his right dominant stayed on the pistol.
And finally, the five gold coins, stacked in a row and resting perfectly in a fitted compartment — were his most important items.
He didn't say a word, but he kept the coins in his small wallet and slipped it into his right pocket.
There was one more thing to do — Ray methodically checked how his suit fits, how his holster was adjusted, and how it feels when he moves.
He took his time. He drew his pistol, checking if there was going to be any trouble while doing so, but there was none. He put it back in its holster, it was as smooth as it gets.
He did the same with his knife, no issues. He could unsheathe it just fine.
He moved his limbs, checking if anything would get in the way. The five gold coins and the flash grenade were a non-issue with his mobility.
He double-checked the lens of the flashlight and turned it on and off — nothing was wrong.
Ray took a deep breath. "I'm done," he said, closing the attaché case with gentle care, and turning around to exit the tent.
The moment he stepped outside the faint whiff of cooked meat from the camp fire met his nostrils, the medics were preparing a feast for the entire refugee site.
Ray walked past them, he saw that the supply boxes were all emptied from the armored vehicle — the soldiers were efficient with their time.
Then the five personnel available along with the chief shortly met the anomaly hunter, fully geared up and ready to come along with him.
Anderson scrutinized Ray's equipment, a mix of intrigue and concern in his eyes. "Is that all you're bringing? Doesn't seem like much to me."
The other soldiers also seemed perplexed with how little the hunter brought.
"Chief, I assure you that I have everything I need." Ray firmly said, and the chief was astonished but didn't dare further question an anomaly hunter.
"Alright. We're coming with you. Might not pack your punch, but these men'll get the job done." the chief offered and the soldiers themselves were ready with the conviction in their eyes.
Ray hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether to accept their help, his thoughts already mapping out how they might assist him.
"Chief, we haven't discussed it — but do you have any idea what caused the twisting of the limbs of these refugees?" Ray asked, his gaze serious.
Anderson's chest tightened. "We don't know for sure. Folks said it looked human, but I've never run into anything that can warp limbs with a damn glance."
…"Chief."
"Did I hear that right? It can warp limbs with a glance?" Ray needed clarification.
He had never known of such an anomaly before, it had to be a unrecorded one from the districts.
The chief nodded. "Yup, you heard me loud and clear. All the more reason we come with you. We called for more backup around these parts — more help should be on the way."
Ray took a deep breath; the mission was more perilous than he had anticipated. But he'd made his decision. "The enemy is unknown, and I can't guarantee any of your survival, chief. I'll go alone."
"You'll only get in my way," Ray said, not as an insult, but as the harsh reality of what awaited them.
The chief and his soldiers bristled — they were men with real combat experience, and some began voicing their frustration.
"Look, man, I know Anomaly Hunters are strong, but whatever's out there — you might not be able to handle it alone."
"Yeah, going out there by yourself is suicide. We can back you up. We'll stay behind and cover you."
"You're just gonna get yourself hurt with that kind of thinking—"
Ray heard the opinions of the soldiers, but they passed through him — right ear in, left ear out.
Silence hung in the air as the chief and the hunter locked eyes. The chief could tell Ray wouldn't budge; those dark red eyes hadn't flinched once. After a brief moment of consideration over it, he finally gave in.
Anderson raised his hand, silencing the men. "He'll go alone. We'll focus on securing this perimeter. We won't get in his way."
His decision wasn't taken well, murmurs rising among the soldiers — but before they could voice any more objections, the chief let out a sharp, commanding roar, loud enough to grant the entire refugee camp's attention toward him.
"We'll let the Anomaly Hunter do his job. We stay here and do ours. Simple as that."
"Ray, go ahead and move out," the chief said, nodding toward the west, in the direction of Redpines Town.
The soldiers looked frustrated, but they didn't argue.
A few muttered words under their breath:
"Let's hope we don't have to come looking for your body later."
Their murmurs faded as they dispersed through the camp, securing the perimeter with annoyance written across their faces.
Ray's face remained serious and unnerving. He stepped slightly closer to the chief and gave a slight bow, his right hand resting on his abdomen. "Thank you, Chief Anderson. Whatever happens to me will be my own responsibility. Please wait for more reinforcements from Helix Corporation. I'll be going now — excuse me."
He spoke everything that needed to be said, then began walking slowly west toward the location of Redpines Town.
"Not bringing any communication device, kid?" the chief asked as Ray walked away. The hunter stopped to reply, "No need for that. I have my own ways of communicating with HQ."
"I see," the chief said, lighting a cigarette. After a puff, he asked again, "Kid… are you even human?"
"Pardon?" The question caught Ray's attention — the single word almost felt like an insult.
"Your eyes, your skin… the presence you carry. You look human, but in my decades of dealing with this war…"
The chief exhaled smoke slowly. "You're more like an anomaly."
Ray once again controlled his breathing, keeping a close eye on his mannerisms. "Chief, no matter what kind of thing I am, or what I've been through to be who I am now, I can guarantee you—"
"—I'll always be human," he said, with conviction in his voice.
The chief respected his answer.
Chapter End.