Level Up The Colony

Instead, she dove into the driver's seat.

Before he could react, she reached under the steering column and locked all the doors from the central control.

It was a 2014 Corolla, nothing fancy, not automatic, and definitely not fast enough to stop her.

Too bad the car wasn't tinted.

He saw her.

He yelled and pounded on the glass, claiming he had the key.

Helen just smirked.

From her bag, she pulled a hairpin and began picking the ignition lock.

Estimated time? 30 to 45 seconds.

More guys showed up, trying to open the doors or bash in the windows, but they were weaklings.

She ignored them all, her attention drifting for just a second.

Handsome, she thought, catching the driver's eyes through the window.

But not as fine as Timothy.

Her face flushed at the random thought and just like that, the engine roared to life.

The driver's face crumpled in disbelief.

Helen didn't care.

She adjusted the seat, buckled in, and threw the car into reverse.

Her driving instructor would cry if he saw this.

In truth, she'd barely passed her driver's test, with a little help from bribery.

Still, if credit were due, games like Asphalt and GTA probably taught her more than any real-life instructor.

Without hesitation, she reversed into the crowd of thugs still clinging to the car.

NPCs, in her mind.

She hit them without remorse and spun into the main road, swerving sharply to face the direction she needed.

She shifted gears and bolted forward, easily hitting 80 mph.

Bystanders jumped out of the way.

She didn't flinch.

NPCs would be fine, they always were.

The good news? She made it to school on time.

The bad news? She may have traumatized her salamander.

No one saw her exit the car.

At full speed, she jumped out, landing skillfully in a bush beside the campus fence.

She landed on her butt on purpose to keep her clothes clean.

As for the car?

She summoned her salamander, gave it one job, held down the gas pedal, and let the vehicle keep going to serve as a decoy.

Just before the car could crash, she unsummoned the poor creature.

The distraction worked; any police who might've given chase were completely thrown off.

By 8:59 AM, Helen was in class, seated and unbothered.

As usual, she looked like nothing had happened.

Moments later, the lecturer walked in, completely unaware a student had just pulled a hit-and-run on a gang and her own Uber driver.

...

Meanwhile, while Helen was busy making her dramatic getaway, another of her colleagues was just arriving home.

Nonso, known for being the furthest from campus, didn't bother rushing.

That would be stupid.

As introverted as he was, he preferred to use his hunter abilities for convenience, not theatrics.

He simply distanced himself from the incident site until daylight, then quietly attached himself to a vehicle heading in his direction.

It was a one-hour journey back to his parents' house, and he didn't have any cash on him.

Not that it mattered.

Even if he did, he hated the idea of standing out, boarding public transport while wearing his assassin's garb and weapons? That would attract unnecessary attention.

And then if he happens to chance upon officials, he'd need to prove that he went for an official raid, which he didn't go for.

Nonso was a shadow assassin, and his ability allowed him to move through shadows, bending light around him to remain nearly invisible, as long as he didn't draw attention.

True stealth.

It made it easy to sneak onto a vehicle undetected, especially one already partially loaded.

His weapons were carefully concealed within his cloak.

At each checkpoint, he had to get creative.

While most buses were filled with mundane humans or low-rank hunters who posed no threat to him, the problem was the law enforcement presence.

On major roads, there was often at least one C-ranked officer hiding among the police.

And although Nonso could fool ordinary people, dealing with peers in his own rank, or worse, seasoned veterans, was a different matter entirely.

People often said the police were obsolete, replaced by the Hunters Association.

Nonso disagreed.

The police might seem weaker, but they were still paramilitary and, ultimately, under direct government control.

The military in this country wasn't some powerless relic, it reported only to the president.

Despite public statements claiming to "serve the people," their allegiance was clear.

It was propaganda, carefully designed to make people underestimate them.

The ones truly fooled were arrogant hunters, those obsessed with fame, money, and attention.

They underestimated the military's strength and often paid the price.

In truth, the military and the Hunters Association were near equals in power.

And while the Association claimed to be government-affiliated, its operations leaned far more private and independent than most realized.

Nonso wasn't the kind of fool to fall into that trap.

Every time he shifted buses or used shadows to pass through checkpoints, avoid the senses of the veteran hunters or those he deemed dangerous, he was reminded of how dangerous ignorance could be.

Most hunters relied solely on their abilities, but without awareness of how the world worked, those powers only went so far.

Was he exploiting the system? Sure.

But he wasn't alone.

Everyone used what they had, Nonso just happened to be more discreet about it.

He didn't feel guilty.

If anything, the government deserved blame for allowing the country to fall behind in progress while the world evolved and moved forward.

While his power wasn't strong enough to violate people's privacy or break into digital systems, others had abilities that could.

Cyber theft was on the rise, and countries outside Nigeria were responding harshly.

Instead of deporting offenders, they now locked them away in secure facilities.

Once caught, those individuals disappeared with no press, no trials, and no homecoming.

They were simply erased.

It was a warning to all hunters who thought their powers made them untouchable.

There was always someone stronger out there.

"There's always someone better," Nonso muttered under his breath, shifting further into shadow.

Governments didn't request extradition anymore.

Doing so could paint them as complicit or worse, as potential spies.

Nations used these opportunities to exploit each other's weaknesses.

Even when deported, offenders were treated as traitors at home, one step away from execution.

No trust, no second chances.

Once someone was taken, they never existed.

So for hunters who used their powers to exploit corruption, their reach didn't go far.

Most were caught and dealt with internally.

Those who had secrets stayed home.

Those brave enough to leave understood the risks.

And while a hunter could, in theory, commit crimes across continents from the safety of one country, the chances were slim.

For most, it was better to stay invisible and let the system crumble on its own.

Why risk hiding it when an ability like his could easily qualify as an S-rank? They could be labeled a national treasure.

But the reality wasn't that simple.

People often assumed that powerful awakened individuals were treated like royalty.

In truth, there were hidden strings.

Fear of being forced into gates? That didn't happen at least, not to just anyone.

If it did, you were likely the government's last resort and would be guarded more heavily than a head of state.

But that wasn't the real threat.

The real risk was exposure.

Using your ability, especially against mundane humans or without regulation, was practically begging for government eyes on you.

Best-case scenario: you got recruited into the military. Worst case? You became a research subject in some secret facility, dissected by science and tech divisions eager to reverse-engineer your gift.

The country had stopped playing nice a long time ago.

Now it forced compliance with a smile.

You could either volunteer and wear the chain legally or refuse and live as a ghost, hoping never to get caught.

So Nonso kept his head down.

He wasn't about to throw himself on anyone's radar.

By the time he finally reached his parents' house, he didn't go through the front door.

Instead, he slipped through a side window into his bedroom.

Quiet.

Efficient.

He quickly stashed everything that could expose his identity: cloak, weapons, and hunter badge.

No one in his family knew he was awakened.

He wasn't ready to have that conversation.

Maybe he never would be.

Once everything was hidden away, he crept back out and walked casually to the front door, ringing the bell like he'd just arrived.

He was late.

Very late.

How late exactly?

Breakfast was already on the dining table, steam rising from hot plates.

His siblings were seated.

His mother was setting down a pot.

His father was flipping through a newspaper.

Yeah, he'd missed the mark.

He walked in deliberately, letting his footsteps echo on the tiles, a subtle signal of his presence.

Bowing slightly, he greeted his parents, and they acknowledged him with a nod and a soft hum of recognition.

As for his older siblings?

He didn't bother.

There was no point in greeting people who never responded.

Everyone in the house carried their own weight and their own struggles, and silence had become the unspoken norm between them.

"How was the night class?" his mother asked, glancing at him while setting down a jug of juice.

Nonso met her gaze briefly, his expression unreadable.

They all knew he wasn't exactly a social butterfly.

He was still learning how to open up slowly, painfully.