April had the first visitors of the year.

  Two dirty and rough-looking Caucasian men rode up to the gates. Miners or grave robbers, from their appearance, I leaned heavily towards grave robbers. I watched them dismount from their clearly abused mounts and cross into the graveyard. They ignored the courtyard and travelled straight towards the nearest mausoleums.

  [Alert! Intruders are not recognised as Challengers.]

  I wasn't shocked by that alert.

  Blackstone had the honour of taking on these two. I watched as they began to inspect the first mausoleum they came to. This one was empty, which perplexed them after they went through it. They had expected a body or at least information on the dead, but the tomb was without occupants or any names or dates.

  This caused enough concern between the pair that they actually debated leaving, as they thought it was an unnatural and downright strange thing that the tomb was without an occupant. Unfortunately, this debate gave Blackstone plenty of time to find them.

  Neither man had any real combat instincts, and their deaths were brutal and quick.

  [A Hunter has made a Kill.]

  Blackstone's hammer crushed the skull of the first, and he quickly turned, bringing the hammer around for another strike, catching the second man with another blow to the skull.

  [A Hunter has made a Kill.]

  I left him to the cleanup and sent horses down to Herbert. Both men were impoverished, and very little loot was gained.

  The next day, Eleanor reappeared at the gates and told me that the first movie theatre built had opened in Los Angeles. It was called The Electric Theatre was proving to be very successful. Interest in using Los Angeles as a headquarters for new movie studios and production companies was increasing. The Daughters of Medusa were predicting that there would be several openings within five years for producing movies for the new theatres.

  Things were moving in the direction that I needed them to. My promises to both the Way and Daughters were now fulfilled. I promised the means to make great wealth and influence greater political control, and now both were starting to take shape. In Newfoundland, the British were transmitting the first signals across the Atlantic. This was the herald of the coming of the radio, and Eleanor also told me on a visit that the Gramophone Company in Milan had created the first million-selling record.

  Yes, the age of mass accessible culture had arrived.

  Spring was in full force around me, and I watched the world all by waiting for the next visitors, whether they be Challenger or intruder. At the end of the month, the next one arrived, but this man was neither.

  He had ridden to the gates an hour before midday.

  A well-built caucasian man, cleanly shaven and looking presentable, even though he was covered in the dirt and grime of travelling. His horse was well fed and cared for. At first, I thought it was a Challenger, but his actions afterwards convinced me otherwise.

  He dismounted his horse and tied it up, and everything seemed to be going according to the standard script of what happened when Challengers arrived. But instead of passing through the gates, he began to inspect them and the walls heading to the north and south.

  He pulled out a leather-bound book and began taking notes. Unfortunately, as he was outside my sphere of influence, I couldn't read what he was writing over his shoulder. There were no signs of any satchel or close combat weapon, along with a lantern.

  "Who might you be then?"

  I spoke to myself as I watched the strange man. His clothes and hat were of good quality and black. The more I looked at him, the more priest vibe I got off him. He must be in his mid-30s and seemed a bit too muscular to be a priest, though.

  An unfortunate idea came into my head then—the Order of St Marcus.

  He shared too many similarities with the group that had come before. I had expected them to reappear at some time, and it looks like today was that day. The more I watched him, the more I thought I might be correct in my assumptions.

  He briefly opened his coat to pull out another pencil, and I noticed a crucifix hanging from his belt. There were several other pouches and items there, but I couldn't make out what they were. I did, however, notice the handgun was trapped to his hip as well. The final piece of evidence I needed was that I now saw his shirt collar, and it was a priest's collar.

  I didn't think he was the local priest, paying a visit. He stood outside the gates for over an hour, and I watched him meticulously note things in his book and even make a few drawings.

  My only interaction with the Order of St Marcus was a raid by a group of organised and trained men. I'd expected the appearance of a scout to at least find out what they were dealing with first. That had led me to believe that there was a leak in the lease of one of the organisations I was dealing with, and they had a pretty good idea of what was here. Well, it seems the Order had sent one now.

  He walked half a mile north, then turned back and did the same south. He was getting a sense of the area enclosed by the wall. I followed him from the wall as he made his way through the trees. After the third hour of being outside of my domain, he put his book away in his saddlebags and remounted his horse and rode away down the track back to the road.

  "Well, that was strange."

  Early May saw a group of six desperate men come to the gates.

  Miners down on their luck, it seemed. Maybe their claim had not jumped, or the minor who worked there had kicked them out, but they were desperate and looking for an easy score. Whether the stories of the wealth hidden here or the opportunity to loot the graves brought them greed, drove them, no matter what.

  It was just past midday when they crossed the gates with the horses and donkeys: six men, six horses, and three donkeys walking in a rough single file. I had to organise an ambush, but with so much sunlight out, Rigger would not be involved.

  [Alert! Intruders are not recognised as Challengers.]

  They were walking the southern pathways, discussing focusing their search on the church, then moving on to the tombs and mausoleums. I chose the location at the junction of the maze's third and fourth rings. I had my Hunters gather there and wait. For some reason, Rodriguez asked to be left out of this hunt. This was very out of character for him, and I wasn't sure what was going on, but I respected his request.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  When they reached the ambush point, I gave the order, and my Hunters leapt into action. The surprise attack caused the fear and panic I expected. Horses bolted, donkeys broke and ran, and the men died.

  I watched all with a sense of boredom.

  [A Hunter has made a Kill.]

  McGregor got the first kill/the man across the throat, causing a jet of red blood to surge from his body. This allowed him to jump onto a second take and take his time with that one.

  [A Hunter has made a Kill.]

  Roberson closes with his mark, who managed to pull out a gun and get a shot off. My hands were so close that the bullet on his arm winged him. This caused him snarl in rage, and he lost control to his [Relentless Hunger]. He jumped on the man and tore him apart with his teeth, and his death was one of screams.

  [A Hunter has made a Kill.]

  Harrington got the next kill, running his opponent through the chest with his sword. He finally twisted it and then pulled out, and the man died, drowning in his own blood.

  [A Hunter has made a Kill.]

  [A Hunter has made a Kill.]

  Blackstone and his hammer kill the first quickly. He shattered the skull of the first, then the shoulder of the second. When the man was on the floor, screaming in pain, he brought his hammer down, ending his life.

  [A Hunter has made a Kill.]

  McGregor took his time, as I said.

  I surveyed the scene of carnage and agreed. The donkeys in their panic had cast off their packs, and their contents were scattered across the ground. The horses also dropped some of theirs in their panic to flee.

  "You all know what to do."

  As I spoke, I summoned my avatar amongst the carnage. I looked over there at the dead men, seeing nothing of interest. I would wait until the dead were stripped of their possessions and see what they had. From the looks of them, they were desperate and would have little. I picked up one of the men's rifles that had fallen on the ground from his horse as it fled. I checked the breach in the barrel, removing the bullet from it. It was in poor condition, with rust.

  Desperate men indeed.

  I dropped to the ground and dismissed my avatar, leaving the hunters to clean up the mess. I would have to go in with my [Hide the Crime!] ability, of course, but that would be later.

  I watched my Hunters work, and I realised it was a sign of my growing disconnection from my old human self. When I first started, such a massacre would be shocking, but now it was all standard procedure. Roberson was wounded, but he was soon able to use his arm and was normal. A day or two in his lair and he would be completely healed.

  Rodriuez was not talkative about why he stayed out of the ambush.

  I decided not to press him, but allowed him his reasons, as long as it wasn't to become a regular thing.

  This led to a bloody period in New Midian. The recent stock market panic has led to more local mines closing. They were already operating on thin profit margins, and the loss of markets due to the economic shock was now taking its toll.

  The first group of three desperate former miners came looking for an easy score, found Blackstone instead. He asked to face them alone, and the result was that I could not even generically call it a fight. A massacre was the best description. He and his hammer left a bloody trail through them.

  [A Hunter has made a Kill.]

  [A Hunter has made a Kill.]

  [A Hunter has made a Kill.]

  He buried the dead and took the horses to Herbert.

  A few days later, another group arrived: four men. All were desperate, hoping the stories of hidden wealth were true, but from their conversation, I overheard that grave-robbing was the most likely outcome.

  What was with all the grave robbing?

  I knew it happened, but this was getting ridiculous. I would have to ask Rigger about this, as he was a former grave robber himself.

  Roberson and Rodriguez went after them together. Each was assigned the gates' hunting grounds and came at them from opposite directions. Another short and bloody battle broke out as the four men died grizzly deaths. Each Hunter claimed two each. Rodriguez did not come out unscathed as he was shot in the shoulder by one of the intruders.

  [A Hunter has made a Kill.]

  [A Hunter has made a Kill.]

  [A Hunter has made a Kill.]

  [A Hunter has made a Kill.]

  I left them clean up before I stepped in with [Hide the Crime!] to remove the blood. The horses were sent to Herbert, and the loot was split.

  I was slowly building up a small reserve of dollars. It wasn't much, but having it made me feel better when dealing with unexpected problems.

  New clothes started to arrive for the Hunters at this time as well. Amy and her daughter were making them for the Hunters according to their measurements. Herbert told me that his daughter had a talent for tailoring, which Amy supported. Most shrugged and accepted them. Harrington sought to have them altered and made with more expensive materials. I said he could, but he would need to help fund them, as my resources were not unlimited. He grumbled but let it go for now.

  Soon, another pair arrived.

  "Is there no end to them?"

  I asked myself as I watched them walking along the northern path.

  McGregor ambushed them, slicing the legs of one, crippling him and left him screaming on the ground in pain.

  The second fled in terror further into the graveyard. McGregor gave chase but was forced to stop as the fleeing man ran into the Hateful Spirit. The pair had arrived later in the day, and the sun was setting by the time they crossed the gates. Soon, two new screams were added to the night as McGregor doubled back and took his time killing the crippled man.

  [A Hunter has made a Kill.]

  [A Hunter has made a Kill.]

  After this pair, things slowed down again.

  My conversation with Rigger about grave robbers was somewhat enlightening. I had spoken to him about this before, but I wanted to know more now.

  I asked him about grave robbers, and it turns out it is very common in this timeline. Herbert confirmed it, saying it was a problem at the town's graveyard as well. I found that odd and went back through the local paper issues looking for evidence. I found numerous cases of men being charged with "disturbing hallowed ground." This was the polite way of saying grave robbing. I found that fascinating. I knew grave robbers existed, but not to the extent that it seemed that it was happening locally, at least.

  That explained so much. Many graveyards had dedicated watchmen to stop vandals and robbers from plundering the graves. New Midian, being unguarded, must seem like an easy prize for them.

  I was thinking about this at the top of my spatial bubble when I spotted movement in the trees.

  Due to the time of year, the foliage allowed the single rider to get close before I spotted them. The traffic on the road was heavy, and it could be anyone.

  The deaths of many of these men had been brutal at best. Yet I didn't flinch or feel anything at them. I didn't know whether it was through constant exposure to such violence or the fact that my age as a Dungeon Core could very well be greater than my human life. I came to realise that when I was the life of the human I died somewhere in my early or mid-40s. I had only rough memories of this time, and nothing else. Everything was tied to the media I consumed and the games I played; if I had a family or loved ones, it was all a blank to me.

  So ended May.

  June means summer.

  My Hunters were primarily active at night this time of year. This was for two reasons: first, to help remain hidden, and second, hunting was better in the forest.

  Technically, there was a third who was growing uncomfortable in the sunlight.

  I had noticed this more as the Hunters levelled. Rigger was the most obvious example of this, but Rodriguez was starting down the same path. Was this a side effect of their change or a direct result of it? I suspected it would come down to what they were changing into. Roberson was happily wandering around all hours, while McGregor was venturing out less on sunny days.

  They were also getting more testy in each other's presence. That was becoming more apparent as they were now burying bodies further apart so as not to interact with each other. They were only willing to come together to kill or split loot.

  My group talks did not count as they had little choice but to attend those. I kept them brief and to the point, which I think they appreciated.

  I had been thinking about this as I watched Rodriguez more.

  He seemed to be changing in a way I could not fathom right now.

  He was becoming more nocturnal but active at odd times. Sometimes he was never seen, and at other times he was almost bouncing off the walls with barely suppressed energy. This was not a sudden change; it had begun with his last level-up, but it was growing more noticeable.

  He had not crossed any lines yet, but I was watching just in case.

  Blackstone was still the Hunter they all interacted with the most, as he made things for them.

  Some of the orders were...unusual.

  Harrington had a reading table, a chair, and several bookcases built—all things I expected. The chest, with several sections and small holes, was not. What purpose such a chest held, I did not know.

  I thought about asking, but I respected his privacy.

  McGregor had what seemed to be a medieval torture rack made, and Roberson expanded his butchery setup in his lair with a more elaborate table. I know this because he happily told me all about it.

  Rigger had the least interaction with Blackstone, as he seemed to focus on making things with his own crafting skills. Again, I did not know, but he hinted in several conversations that his "wives" were tired and that he was looking for new ones.

  I told him we would see what the future would bring.

  Life went on around me as the forest was filled with life. The road alongside it was well travelled, and the farmers' fields across the river bore a new crop of corn.

  This was the time of year for Challengers as they had the best chance of success.