Chapter 1: Fake death.

A loud thunderclap awakened me in the middle of the night.

I tried to open my eyes even though my eyelids were heavy, and my body ached as if it was about to separate the joints. After struggling for a while, I finally became a little more awake.

Since I joined the werewolf hunter organization, this is the first time I've fallen into this predicament.

As a hunter, my eyes also have a few advantages over an average human. Like now, even though I'm just in a closed, dark space, it's still enough for me to see everything thanks to the faint light emitted from the round lamp hanging above my head.

Surrounding me are three walls, and right in front of me is a floor of iron bars. Currently, I am lying on the rough cement tile floor. This is typically a standard prison.

But why am I here?

I gritted my teeth, concentrating on remembering. Because it was so sudden, the headache was terrible, and it took a while for the pain to subside. A few images flashed through my mind intermittently, enough for me to remember what had happened.

A few days ago, I received a new mission from the organization: I needed to hunt down four Rogues that had infiltrated human territory.

I was assigned to this mission with Mira and Drake. The three of us trained together since childhood and are arguably the strongest people in the current organization. Together we have never lost a battle, but yesterday we did. The funny thing is that I didn't fail at the hands of that stupid werewolf but was harmed by my comrades. Mira mercilessly pushed me off the cliff just because Drake confessed to me a few days ago. Even when I rejected Drake, Mira still chose this cruel way to treat me.

I've probably fallen into werewolf territory and will be executed by them in a few hours.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn't notice the sound of approaching footsteps. For a hunter, this carelessness is enough to kill me a thousand times.

"You say it's a human. Why would those lowly people go against the convention?" A dangerous male voice rang out, and the already stuffy room became even colder.

Then there was another male voice, who seemed to be the subordinate of the guy just now. "Yes. I caught her when I led people to the border check. She was dying."

"Then why not kill it right there? Why bring that trash here?" The man showed no patience.

"I was originally going to do that. But I discovered she had knives, guns, and other weapons. She's not just an ordinary person. We could exploit something from her. Because of this, I didn't dare to decide for myself, so I brought it here to ask your opinion."

I chuckled lightly. Werewolves are all alike, stupid, and delusional. They want to get information from me, maybe wait until the next life.

Humans and werewolves have existed side by side for many years, living independently on both sides of the territory divided since the fierce war fifty years ago. Although the two appear to be at peace on the outside, their hatred of killing their kind is still simmering today.

Just thinking about my loved ones and fellow humans falling because of the selfish attack of wolves, I want to crush their necks and kill them all.

They stopped talking. The footsteps came closer and closer to me. I immediately closed my eyes and continued to pretend to be dead. If I let them find out I'm awake, my life will be shortened.

The shrill sound of the iron door suddenly resounded. I almost instinctively put my hand over my ears. Fortunately, I didn't. The sound of solid footsteps softly echoed in the quiet space; it was like the sound of death. Then the sound of leather shoes stopped, and I felt a pair of eyes staring at me.

"Dead?" A headless sentence rang out.

After that, the atmosphere fell into silence again. My heart sank. I tried to hold my breath to fool that bastard into thinking I was really dead. I know werewolves are very sharp; I can be detected if I breathe a little.

Time passed slowly, I felt that I was running out of oxygen, but the person in front of me still didn't move.

Sweat broke out on my back even though the temperature was shallow and cold. Until the oxygen ran out, I couldn't hold my breath anymore, I opened my mouth to take a deep breath, but a powerful blast of air grazed my face, and the pain all over my body became more apparent than ever. I was thrown against the wall by him.

A cold and mocking voice rang in my ears, "why not continue to pretend to be dead?"

This is the most humiliating thing for an excellent hunter like me. I endured the pain, putting my hands on the floor to force myself up.

I pursed my lips in disdain and defiance, "Is that all? If you're good enough, kill me! Stupid werewolves!"

I raised my head, looked at the face of the person who hit me, and caught my eye was a figure nearly 1m9 tall. His deep black eyes startled me, and my hand suddenly trembled, but I don't know why.

Am I trembling in fear of a werewolf? This is funny.

But it is undeniable that he has a powerful oppressive aura. Without a doubt, the Alpha blood flowing in him was extremely strong.

Suddenly, I remembered that I had met this person. Or rather, I've seen his picture in the 'most dangerous werewolves' profile at the organization.

Information about him popped into my head. His name is Charles, son of Alpha Andrew. He was the one the organization always condemned for his crimes; the number of people who died at his hands could not be counted. He is man's most dangerous enemy but the werewolf's savior because, in the future will probably become the strongest Alpha in history that werewolves possess.

I did not expect myself to fall into the hands of this wicked man. But I still managed to control the trembling in my heart and glared at him. Even if I die, I won't bow.

Under the dim light of the bulb, my eyes and Charles's met. Suddenly, he froze like a lost soul, his eyes flashing with complicated emotions.

I don't understand why I can see so many emotions through the eyes of someone I've never met, but I quickly put that silly thought out of my head. Right now is my best chance to attack Charles.