- Ehem… I-it’s nice to m-meet you, m-miss?..

- Omen! – I chugged a glass of whiskey, trying not to concentrate on dwarf’s stutter. It was obvious he was afraid of me. Almost scared to death. Like every other damsel or not-damsel in distress.

The dwarf fell silent and stared at me. I got used to this during last two centuries. In the end, my eyes have different colors: the left one is brown-red and the right one is bright green.

- I don’t have all evening, mister?.. Well, honestly, I can’t remember your name and I don’t even care! Just tell me what job you need to be done!

The dwarf blinked at me, taken by surprise. Fine, maybe I was pretty rude. He didn’t deserve that, perhaps. But who cares? Not me, that’s for sure!

- Y-you didn’t l-like the whiskey I b-bought? – he asked.

- No, it’s fine! But I don’t like people who can’t communicate their thoughts properly. So I suggest you talk fast and in smart sentences.

The dwarf looked now even more terrified. Funny how people like him and these villagers are afraid of both monsters and Hunters. Why though? We are saving their lives, we never hurt innocent, we have honor. But almost everyone sees us as “monster of a different type”, monsters who hunt other monsters. Still, they always ask for our help. Hypocrites!

- I am sorry for muttering, miss Omen! – the dwarf suddenly pulled himself together. – This is a tiny village on the outskirts of civilization. We are not used to your kind… I mean, to Hunters! In bigger towns, yes, we know that you are not fearedand often seen on the streets, but here you are something we cannot comprehend. You are neither humans, nor…

- Please, spare me your explanations! I know that already! Just… tell me who the target is!

- Emm… That is a target… unlike any other. But you are one of the best, if not the best, right?

- I’m flattered… – I was indifferently examining an empty glass, trying not to lose concentration and think about other things than this job.

- Do you… hunt other Hunters?

- What did you say? – I hissed.

- I… I…

- If you dare ask that question again, dwarf, I’ll strangle you with your own entrails! We never hunt each other. If some Hunter made you wet yourself when you crashed into him on some empty street, then it’s your problem! Go and tell him about that, if you have guts!

I stood up and turned around.

- I’m taking my leave! And be thankful I’m not taking your life!

All people in this tavern were staring at me, but I didn’t care. That fat, runty, smelly piece of a drunkard stepped over the line. I was ready to kill him. I felt hatred burning within me. I was sure that my face was red as I felt veins throbbing is my forehead. I barely restrained myself from unsheathing weapon. I should better leave. And forget about this.

- Miss Omen! – the dwarf cried.

I turned around and clenched my teeth.

- What?

- He killed a child!