After an hour of continuous harvesting, they both ploughed to the ground, resting their backs against each other; deep in the ant colony. Becky uncapped a vial and gulped it down, passed it to Draven "You want some?" Draven said "Uh, what is this?" "Recovery potion" she said with a smile. "Oh, thanks" he drank down the remaining content. While his muscles were recovering, Draven checked his system notifications. Becky was busy typing her experience on the tablet. [Mission: Accomplished] Kill 100 Golden crustacean ants Reward: Mystery Box (Silver) Feeling apprehensive, Draven asked "A mystery box? What do you think I will get?" Vernon flicked wax off his earbud, said "Anything, even a lump of clay" "Clay?" Vernon said "Yeah, that is if you are unlucky! But since this is of a silver grade, there might be something useful" Vernon said "Do you want to open it? Yes/No" Draven thought 'I don't

Becky suggested "Do you want to stop him?" while her body showed zero empathy, she yawned like she was watching a history channel. Draven gaze shifted from the scene to her with a devilish grin, revealing the opportunist in him. Reading his intentions, she sent back an equally cunning smile. like vultures, they sat back and watched the show. With another brutal kick to the ribs, the young man rolled from his oppressor. Leaning his foot on his belly, the brute said "Tell me where it is and I will spare your pathetic life" with a rife pointed to his head. An unyielding quality in his narrowed eyes shone out of his battered body; his body was down but not his spirit. With his petty strength, he cocked his neck and spat the man's face. Wiping the spit with a heavy palm and flicked it off his face with a grunt. "Hehe... is this your answer?"  "I will never surrender it to you!" The brute grinned "Those are some words

While they were sneaking closer, Becky rolled her eyes at Zeno's clumsy footwork. Internally, she compared him to Draven 'Hmph. What an idiot? Is he even trying? Why can't he be like Draven and walk carefully? From my reports, Draven is only skilled in fire. But also shows promise in skirmish fights, tactics and combat power' 'Now I see why Master asked me to look after him. Master always has an eye for talent!' she thought, developing a better impression of Draven.    Due to Zeno following the training regimen of his clan, he developed a robust and heavy body which is incapable to fight light and fast as it focuses solely on giving the practitioner high defence and strong offense. The only reason Draven was able to keep up with a seasoned assassin was due to the system, Vernon proposed him to buy a new skill called wind steps. *Beep*  Draven opened the system. Becky Swanson +20exp Draven took a glimpse o

The timer ticked off, seconds past through the scope. Creeping behind the outer sentry, she unsheathed her daggers and took cover in the foliage. Once the guard walked closer, like ghost she came and disappeared, leaving behind a corpse in her path. And then soon killed the last guard, she went around the perimeter. Through the walkie talkie, she said "Took care of the back, Mr. D!" "Good job!" Draven replied. She jumped up the tree and leaped into another tree with ninja feet. Once close to her targets, the com buzzed on her forearm. 'Ten seconds already! Hmm... more training!' She pulled the blasters from her thighs, jabbed the safety off and fired a couple of shots. Heads exploded, splattering blood on a nearby woman, she screamed "AAAHH! "Enemy attack!" "Fire!!" They armed themselves, searching for the shooter. She fired a shot and kill another, this time gaining their attention. Blowing her gun, she grinned 'Hehe. Bingo th

While Draven was busy with the impenetrable clunk of metal, Becky on the other hand, successfully diverted their attention. She was skirted through the landscape from her pursuers with a cunning smile, she leaped into the sky and threw bombs and with a bang, the ATV overturned and exploded into bits. Drawing her gun, she shot down the survivors and jumped to a higher ground, she unloaded gun parts on the branch. With quirky hands of a trained militant, she assembled them into a futuristic version of a machine gun. She loaded the strip of cartilages and clicked the gun twice, to check if the safety is secure and crouched underneath. Her hands itched to pull the trigger as she saw the incoming enemies, taking a deep breath, her visage sharpened. And like a sharp-edged blade, she fired. Plasma rays fell on them and like a hot knife, it went through the metal and killed the driver and the passengers. With a grunt, she turned the nozzle to the other vehicl