The path stretching from the majestic spires of the Holy Temple all the way to the distant, shattered borders of the Cursed City spanned a staggering, near-unfathomable distance of approximately 276,000 kilometers. Confronted with such an immense and daunting journey, any ordinary squad of continental fighters would have naturally relied on heavy mechanical transports, high-speed military vehicles, or specialized long-range vessels to bridge the massive geographical gap. However, Jack and his companions chose an entirely different method for their deployment: they chose to travel the entire length of the way on foot, running across the terrain. They reasoned that attempting to navigate the volatile, unpredictable wastelands by a conventional vehicle would actually prolong their travels indefinitely due to constant fuel limitations, mechanical breakdowns, and blocked civilian roads, making a sustained, energy-assisted sprint the most efficient alternative. Moving like a blur across the changing horizons, the group vanished into the distance, focusing their minds entirely on the grueling path that lay ahead.
Shortly after their sudden departure, Rick Deathclaw set out on his own separate journey, his figure slipping away from the temple grounds without drawing any unnecessary attention from the remaining guards. His destination was the notorious, decaying borders of Deadland City.
The underlying reason for his trek remained entirely unknown, a hidden objective that he kept locked away behind his usual detached and uncaring demeanor. He moved through the wasteland with a steady, unhurried pace, refusing to rush his steps until he eventually arrived before a massive, completely abandoned factory structure that loomed over the desolation like a dying titan. The sprawling building bore no visible name above its primary entrance; the heavy metal sign hanging crookedly from the frame was completely devoid of text, lacking even a single word, leaving it as nothing more than the enigmatic "???? Factory."
Despite the total absence of a proper name or identifying letters, this specific facility had once enjoyed an immense, legendary renown across the continent in centuries past. It was a truly colossal place, and its sprawling layout reflected a past golden era when its high-quality products were purchased universally by almost every major household and market.
Now, however, the glory of the past had perished entirely, and the factory stood completely deserted within the borders of a dead, forgotten city, surrounded on all sides by an endless expanse of shifting sand that transformed the entire territory into a vast, silent desert. Rick approached the heavily weathered, sand-covered building, casting a critical eye over its decaying exterior. The factory doors were heavily fractured and compromised, appearing so structurally unstable that they seemed to be waiting for a single external blow or a strong gust of wind to cause them to collapse completely into pieces. Every visible surface of the structure was deeply cracked, shattered, or covered in thick, green layers of rust and mold.
Upon reaching the entrance, Rick placed both of his hands against the weathered doors and began to push forward to clear his path. Before the heavy metal could budge even a single fraction of an inch, the sheer weight of the doors proved far too great for the severely corroded screws and ancient bolts holding them to the frame. A sharp, snapping sound echoed through the dry air, followed by a rapid, consecutive succession of structural failures that sounded like small explosions. With each metallic pop and tearing bolt, the doors leaned further and further backward into the facility. Finally, the remaining fasteners tore completely from their mountings, and the massive doors crashed violently to the ground. The immense impact reverberated through the empty facility, creating a thunderous boom so vast that it sounded as though five additional doors had collapsed simultaneously elsewhere in the building. To an ordinary human being standing nearby without the protection of specialized techniques, the sheer volume of the crash would have felt as though a bomb had detonated right next to their ears.
Paying absolutely no mind to the deafening noise, Rick stepped onto the fallen metal doors and walked directly into the dim interior. The sound of his footsteps echoed loudly in the cavernous, vacant space, creating a distinct illusion that someone was following closely behind him, mimicking his exact rhythm through the shadows. As he advanced deeper, he passed a pair of rusted, colossal vats. Their exact industrial purpose remained entirely unclear, though they had likely been utilized for transporting or mixing massive quantities of water or other liquid compounds during the factory's peak operational years. Shattered, heavily oxidized machinery and old conveyor systems littered the dusty floor, yet despite the advanced state of decay, ruin, and mold, the interior maintained the undeniable, unmistakable characteristics of a manufacturing factory.
As he walked deeper into the heart of the massive facility, Rick felt a slight note of genuine surprise at how stable the structural foundations remained despite centuries of total neglect. Deadland City was a settlement dating back roughly 1,000 to 1,100 years—a place that had remained entirely untouched by modern hands—and yet the factory's survival under such harsh desert conditions was nothing short of a miracle.
Eventually, Rick reached the far end of the factory floor. The area around him was almost entirely bare and empty, save for a rusted upper staircase and an elevated metal walkway designed for patrolling the upper levels of the facility. Rick reached into his pocket and pulled out a small device. It closely resembled a handheld metal detector in its basic shape, though it was much smaller and more compact.
Beginning from his left side, Rick began to sweep the device slowly toward the right. The mechanism began to emit a slow, rhythmic beep as it scanned the area. Just as he swung the device toward the far right, it detected an extreme anomaly radiating from the ground directly ahead of him, causing it to scream with a continuous, high-pitched alarm. Rick immediately slipped the device back into his pocket and began to closely investigate the immediate area.
Kneeling down to inspect the solid flooring, he realized that the object he was tracking lay directly beneath the surface. Hardening his right hand into a tight fist, Rick struck the ground with precise force. An immediate, bright blue light flared from the impact point as the concrete cracked open. Forcing both of his hands into the newly formed fissure, Rick pried the object free from its ancient resting place. The item he extracted was a vibrant, light blue sphere, roughly the size of a standard basketball. Rick stared down at the humming artifact.
Rick (In His Mind): Beautiful. Now that I've found Wise Zeron's very first barrier-creating device, I need to inform Arthur that the mission is a success.
Just as he prepared to turn back and exit the building, the sudden sound of slow, deliberate clapping echoed through the vacant space. Rick scanned his surroundings, instantly sensing a heavy, sudden surge of aura radiating from above. He snapped his gaze upward toward the high walkways. Standing by the upper staircase was a dark figure completely shrouded in the thick shadows. Rick understood the situation immediately; the figure was after the exact same sphere he held. Pulling a small pouch from his gear, Rick held it beneath the object. In an instant, the basketball-sized sphere shrank down, slipping easily into the small container.
The shadowed figure spoke down from the high platform.
- - - : Well, well. It looks like we're going to kill two birds with one stone today.
Though a slight wave of tension gripped his mind, Rick maintained an entirely blank, expressionless face. Showing even a single gram of vulnerability or surprise in this situation would prove problematic.
Rick: I'm sorry, but I'm the one who found the sphere first. You know how it goes finders keepers.
The figure unleashed a sudden, mocking laugh that echoed sharply off the high metal ceiling.
- - - : Tahaha! If a rule like that actually existed, the concept of a bounty hunter wouldn't even exist.
The statement told Rick everything he needed to know. The figure hidden in the dark was an active bounty hunter. However, it puzzled him deeply how they had discovered a secret that Arthur had only recently uncovered through careful research.
The dark figure continued to speak, emphasizing his words with sharp hand gestures.
- - - : Rick Deathclaw, there is an active bounty placed on that very sphere you just uncovered. Because of that, my associates and I began hunting for it. And thanks to your hard work, we'll be collecting two massive payouts in a single day.
Rick scratched his head, his mind racing to figure out who could have leaked this highly classified information, or rather, who could have possibly noticed the sphere's location before Arthur did. The realization struck his mind, and a knowing smirk spread across his face as he spoke.
Rick: Revenant... Revenant is the one who put out this bounty, isn't he?
The figure stepped back slightly into the gloom, matching Rick's smirk with one of his own.
- - - : Wow... Your intuition is remarkably sharp.
Rick's deduction came naturally; he had spent a significant amount of time with Revenant in the past. However, following the catastrophic Incident of the Immortal Army, their meetings had become exceedingly rare. During that horrific event, Revenant had been forced to watch his closest companions suffer and his loved one die right before his eyes. He was never the same after that day, dedicating his entire existence to formulating plans to hunt down the killer who tore his life apart. Knowing that Revenant frequently roamed the ruins of Deadland City after the incident, Rick's mind instantly connected the pieces.
The figure finally stepped forward into the light, completely exposing his appearance. He wore a sleek, black assassin garment, though it lacked a mask or a hood, leaving his features entirely visible. He stood at an imposing height of approximately 2.10 meters, with striking silver hair and faintly luminescent silver eyes. His features were notably handsome, anchored by a slightly large nose.
The figure struck a highly confident, relaxed pose and spoke.
William Bullets: Allow me to introduce myself, considering today will be your absolute last.
William Bullets: My name is William Bullets, leader of the bounty hunters.
William Bullets was an exceptionally powerful and forward-thinking leader, though he ranked strictly as the second strongest within the bounty hunter organization, right beneath Revenant. As to why Revenant had never taken the mantle of leader himself, the reasons were tied directly to his past trauma. Following the Incident of the Immortal Army, Revenant chose to operate strictly alone, refusing to ever experience the pain of structural loss again. When forced to work within a group, he viewed others merely as stepping stones to achieve his ultimate goals. Despite this, the bounty hunters had offered him everything to take command, as he was the most respected and powerful figure below Kyojin Deathclaw. Revenant had firmly declined, stating that William was far better suited for leadership. After taking the position, William had made a strict declaration to the entire organization: "I may be the new leader, but if Revenant ever asks for our assistance or requires a favor, we will answer his call without question. We owe him everything." To the bounty hunters, Revenant was revered as an older brother.
William: Revenant warned us that you were a highly specialized threat, telling us to exercise extreme caution. But from what I can perceive, your aura is vastly weaker than my own.
Rick's smirk widened as he dropped into a fluid, combat-ready stance, completely unbothered by the giant's words.
Rick: If you aren't just wasting your breath with empty talk, prove it.
William spread both of his arms wide in a grand, introducing gesture, a confident, predatory grin plastered across his face.
William: My apologies, but when I first spoke, I used the word 'we.' Meaning, it isn't me you'll be fighting these fine gentlemen will be handling you instead.
Instantly, a massive group of masked bounty hunters materialized from the shadows to William's left and right, all clad in specialized assassin attire. Their numbers totaled exactly 52 men, completely blocking every available exit. A slight wave of tension hit Rick as he surveyed the sheer numbers surrounding his position.
Looking down from the high walkway, William's face contorted into a smug expression that clearly communicated a silent message: Best of luck.