The Multiverse Hunter

The next morning, in a dimly lit room adorned with lavish red silk sheets, a muscular man lay sprawled across the bed, his chest rising and falling in the calm rhythm of sleep. Faint red marks peppered his neck and shoulders—evidence of his indulgent night. Empty bottles and scattered clothes hinted at the debauchery of the evening prior.

Outside the room, muffled voices filtered through the walls.

"He's inside, just like you described, yes?" a woman's voice asked in a low, hushed tone.

The man's eyes snapped open. His instincts screamed danger as he immediately swung his legs off the bed without making a sound. Moving with precision, he reached beneath the bed-frame, his fingers closing around the cold handle of a compact blaster.

Now fully awake, he pressed his bare back against the wall beside the door, steadying his breathing. 'Who could it be?,' he thought, picking up on the faint sounds of approaching footsteps.

STEP. STEP.

The wooden door creaked as it opened, revealing a hulking Trandoshan stepping into the room, his reptilian hand gripping a blaster of his own.

BANG.

The room lit up as a single hot blast ripped through the wooden door, leaving a smouldering hole before burning through the Trandoshan's skull. His lifeless body collapsed to the floor with a dull thud.

"FUCK!" another Trandoshan shouted from outside, his guttural voice laced with rage. The second Trandoshan smashed his fist through the remains of the already damaged door, sending shards of wood flying into the room.

The man ducked just in time, but the splintered debris left shallow cuts along his back and shoulders, thin trails of blood dripping down his skin. He didn't let the pain faze him.

Stepping out from behind the shattered door, the man moved toward the centre of the room, raising his blaster to finish the job.

CLANG.

The Trandoshan's powerful kick whipped the weapon from his hand, sending it skidding across the floor. The man glanced at the blaster, now out of reach, before smirking. 'Fine. Good old-fashioned boxing, then.'

Raising his fists, the man shifted into a southpaw boxing stance, his movements fluid and calculated. His toned body coiled like a spring, his muscles ready to unleash devastating force.

"What's this?!" the Trandoshan snarled, sneering at the unfamiliar stance.

"Take this!" the reptilian brute roared, lunging forward with an overhead right that came down like a hammer.

The man swayed just inches to the side, narrowly avoiding the blow. The Trandoshan's momentum carried him forward, leaving his chin exposed—a very costly mistake with an experienced striker.

CRACK.

A perfectly executed counterpunch landed square on the Trandoshan's jaw, the sheer force reverberating through his entire body. The reptile's eyes rolled back as his entire body folded to the ground like a sack of bricks.

From the hallway outside, a woman in light makeup and a loose nightgown peered into the room. Her wide, terrified eyes took in the scene: the dead Tradoshan, the unconscious Trandoshan, the shattered door, and the bloodied but composed man standing over his opponent.

"Shit!" she exclaimed, spinning on her heels to run.

Before she could escape, three more Trandoshans barrelled into the hallway, their footsteps heavy and loud as they sprinted toward the room.

CLACK. CLACK. CLACK.

All four froze as a small metal ball rolled into the hallway, bouncing slightly before settling at their feet.

"Wait—"

BOOOOOOOOM.

A fiery explosion consumed the hallway in a thick red cloud, obliterating everything in its path. The hotel floor shook violently as debris rained down from the walls and ceiling.

Meanwhile, the man leapt out of the room's window, his movements fluid and practiced. With a large bag slung over his still-naked back, he landed softly in the alley below.

Moments later, fully clothed and with his bag in hand, he strolled out of the alley like nothing had happened. Beneath his shirt, a green amulet pulsed faintly against his chest, its eerie glow hidden from view.

'Pussy so good it'll kill you,' he thought with a wry grin as he disappeared into the bustling streets of Tartek's capital.

An hour later, inside Ali's office at the Empire's headquarters, the atmosphere was tense. Ali sat behind his desk, his imposing red mask concealing his expression as he stared intently at the footage displayed on the screen before him.

Standing on the other side of the desk were Drogath, Lena, and Reka, all silently watching the replay of the hotel's aftermath. On the screen, the same muscular man could be seen exiting the alley, his face clearly captured by the camera.

"I've never seen someone like that. Where is he from?" Reka asked, her voice tinged with curiosity.

"He's a normal human Reka," Lena replied.

Drogath glanced away from the screen, his gaze settling on Ali. The masked apprentice hadn't spoken a word, his focus unwavering as he studied the man's frozen image.

'Jedi, Dathomir Witch, crooked commander, and now a player,' Ali thought, his mind racing. 'He's the worst variable out of all of them. As a player myself, I know his mentality: players don't care about the world they're in. We're here for our own goals, and when it's done, we leave—whether the world survives or burns is irrelevant.'

The silence in the room stretched as the others waited for Ali to speak. Finally, he broke the quiet with a command.

"Lena," he said, his voice cold and authoritative. "Run his face across every camera in the city, but do it yourself. No one outside this office sees his face—not even your father. Delete this footage."

"Yes, sir," Lena said with a sharp nod before quickly leaving the office. Her efficiency and loyalty were unmatched, a result of her father's strict upbringing.

"Reka," Ali said, his tone firm but dismissive, "get out."

The young acolyte hesitated, clearly disappointed at being excluded, but she didn't dare argue. She left without a word.

Once the door clicked shut behind her, Drogath crossed his arms and looked at Ali. "What do you have in mind?"

Ali rose from his seat, his tall frame casting a shadow over the desk as he turned to face the window. The sprawling cityscape of Tartek's capital stretched out before him.

"The corpses—or what was left of them—were Trandoshan," Ali said, his tone serious. "And when it comes to Trandoshan business, there's always one name involved. Their boss. The most influential criminal in Tartek's capital."

"We're going clubbing tonight."

Please donate some of your power stones, it would help my ff massivelv.

Five chapters ahead of webnovel on patreon.com/Rondo312