"I killed one demon last night, sir," you say, standing at attention as General Lee Taemin observes you. 

He narrows his eyes, waving you off. "I counted three in the area. Are you not using your tracker?" 

"I am sir. The other two did not show up for me. They must have been hiding." He dismisses your comment, instead deciding to sit down at his mahogany desk, opening a manila folder.

"We've had six demon sightings in the past month. The numbers are only increasing," he says, sighing. 

"I know you're under a lot of stress, sir. I'm sorry I can't make it easier." 

He shakes you off. "You're the only one for this job. You and I both know how horrible that is." Your left eye twitches as you think back to all the horrors you've endured. "You never complain, you get the job done, and you protect the people. If anything, you're the only reason why I'm not undergoing stress tests everyday."

You can't help but let a soft smile crack through your exterior. "Thank you, sir." 

"Please, Ms. L/N, take a seat." 

You do. The seats in his office have always been your favorite part. They're a burgundy color, which suits the mahogany nicely. Soft and squishy, they even spin. Just how you like it. Maybe you're a child at heart. Well, that's kind of easy considering you've never really had a childhood. Maybe you're going through that phase now.

"We have evidence that a Class 3 is roaming around downtown Parksville." 

Your face goes dark. "A Class 3? The one I faced yesterday was a Class 1, we haven't had any Class 3's in almost a year." 

He peeks up at you, and your lips falter into a frown when you notice the bags under his eyes. "I know, but we can't let that thing live." 

You give him a short nod. "I'll check it out. Is there anything else, sir?"

He bites his lower lip, stroking his chin with his thumb. You've grown to admire the man. He's been your superior for several years now, and each year he's managed to do more and more. He always makes sure you're comfortable, and that if you need backup, you have it. Even if normal humans can't kill the demons, they can still distract them. He's the only one who treats you like a person. Not a toy.

"We're working on ways to clone you." 

Your eyes bulge. "Already?" 

"We can't risk anything. If anything happens to you..." He trails off, his hands trembling on his desk. 

"I know," you whisper. 

"I don't want anything to happen to you, if that's any consolation." 

"It is, sir. Thank you," you reply. 

"Then I think that's it. You're dismissed."

You stand, giving him a small nod of respect before trotting towards his office door. "Parksville... near the alley I was last night. Could that be one of the one's you tracked?" you ask once you reach the knob. 

"I hope it is, one less demon for us to worry about." You hum in acknowledgement, opening the door and preparing to start your day. "Ms. L/N?" 

You freeze, turning your head slightly and motioning for him to continue. He gives you a smile.

"Stay safe."

~~~

Demons mostly come out at night. Mostly.

During the day, hunting them is an issue since so many people are around. Being in league with the police helps, but normally, people are curious. They think you're some ungodly being, or that the fight is something right out of a Marvel movie. What idiotic thoughts. You always despised civilians.

You keep your head low, your hood drawn over your head as your hands stay balled up in fists in your pockets. Your sword is in your holster, your daggers all stocked up once more. Every blade is forged with a special metal only Hunters can touch without burning to a crisp. The metal comes from their very blood, harvested over time and forged into metal. So, in simple terms: don't break your sword. You don't have enough blood to make a lot. Blood loss is more serious when you have special blood and you're the last person alive with said special blood. Surviving isn't easy to say the least, but at least you heal faster.

The sidewalk starts to feel claustrophobic, but you try not to let it bother you too much. You have a Class 3 to find. You dig your nails into your palms, your eyes lighting up. The people on the walkway stare at you in amazement, but you ignore it to instead slip into the same alley you were in last night. There are a few homeless people sitting around. You pay them no mind.

You slip into the shadows, listening closely for any hisses or snarls. Demons are attracted to Hunters. They crave your blood more than anything. That's how they stay alive, feeding off of humans, but Hunters can keep them going for weeks. Maybe even months. 

You keep your eyes on the ground, instinctively holding the hilt of your sword as you traverse deeper into the alley. What you weren't expecting was for a man to purposefully bump into you.

You hold your ground and draw your sword. The man holds his hands up in defeat, giving you a small smirk. He's the same man from last night. "Back already?" he asks, his voice deeper than you remember.

"What's your game?" 

He shakes your concerns away. "No game, just trying to understand who the pretty girl is." You freeze for a beat at the compliment. In all your years of life, not many have called you pretty. It's always 'disgusting' and 'freak'. Never pretty.

He notices your distraction, his smirk only widening. However, you see a heavy cloak of darkness above him, and your eyes expand. 

"How informal of me, I haven't even introduced myself, my name is-" 

"Get down!" you interrupt, pushing him aside as a shadow sweeps forward, a claw peeking out and narrowly missing the man's head. You roll backwards, holding your sword close as the creature plops down.

It stands tall, two legs and two arms with claws, red eyes and a gray build. It has to be around eight feel tall, spikes littering its body with a spiked tail. Your eyes focus on it, your grip on your sword tightening. This is the Class 3 General Kim was talking about. It has to be; it looks like a Behemoth from out of your old textbooks. Class 3's are designed to be hard to touch. Kill by dodging and using long-ranged attacks. So, throwing daggers. Got it.

You jump on the nearest dumpster as the creature howls, charging forward. You hop up and push off its back, trying to land a strike, but it moves too aggressively. You roll onto the ground, groaning as you're thrown off of the creature's body. With a huff, you get to your feet, looking back in time to see the man you were talking to already gone. Actually, he completely vanished. You wonder where he went. It's your thoughts of the man that distracts you, and the Behemoth takes advantage of it.

It lunges. It goes higher than you've ever seen a demon jump before. It's about to land on you, but you roll away at the last second. The shockwave from the landing is enough to send you stumbling forward, and you hiss before putting your sword away to instead grab your daggers. You throw one into its chest, and gray blood pours down from the wound. However, it seems unaffected. You freeze at that. No groans? No sign of pain?

However, you don't have time to think about it as it charges again, swiping at you with its front claw. You dodge, grabbing another dagger and throwing it into its leg. Again, unaffected. You roll away, but it still manages to snag your calf with its front claw. A yelp of pain leaves your clogged throat. With a limp, you grab your last dagger. The creature seems to charge up, its eyes glowing brighter and its throat illuminating a soft orange tint. Oh wonderful: it can breathe fire.

You stand in a defensive position, preparing to dodge when an arrow flies through the creatures head. It abruptly stops. It gags, the orange tint dissipating. You stagger back in shock as the creature lets out several cries of pain. Then, it falls over and crumbles to dust. You stare with your jaw on the ground. What in the fuck just happened?

A figure jumps down from the rooftops, landing in front of the pile of dust. He stands tall, holding a bow in his hand, a quiver attached to his back. You nearly faint at the sight. The man from earlier stands there, breathing heavily. "Class 3's are bitches, huh?" he asks, and you draw your sword, pointing it at him. 

"Who the hell are you!" you ask in a shout, which he smirks to. He takes off his right hand's glove, then shows you the back of his hand. Your eyes widen. He has a fire emblem engraved there. 

"My name is Jeon Jungkook," he says, trailing off to look at your hand.

You back up on instinct, but he only comes closer. Each step has your heart beating faster. The man's combat boots crunch against the ground. It's as if his boots are louder than the footsteps of the creature you just fought, creating an earthquake inside your mind as you process what you heard. Before you can open your parched lips, the stranger says words you never thought you'd hear.

"That mark... it means you're one of us, Y/N L/N."