I Own A Sharingan - Chapter 9
“Agh!”
He felt great pain for a moment, then moved his right arm with pain.
He took his backpack off his back and put it on the ground, then he saw the scratch mark on the bag and the pockets ripped.
He took his bottle of water, took a few sips and then took inventory of his equipment.
“I’ve lost most of my food, I now have three cans left.”
But suddenly he noticed that the most important object he owned was missing.
“Shit! My hunter license ! !”
A Hunter License is a type of card given exclusively to Hunters after they pass the Hunter Exam which proves the status of the owner and has multiple benefits.
It provides free access to most of the public services and permission to go almost anywhere in the world without a visa. It also grants the ability to kill without facing major legal consequences, although there are exceptions.
But most important was the fact that you can only receive one license in your life, no matter what the circumstances, for some hunters, their license is more important than their life.
“Calm down, think…”
He then tried to remember the previous events and remembered that several objects fell into the void after being attacked by one of the birds.
“The hunter license is quite heavy, the wind couldn’t have blown it away, it must have fallen off.”
Finally, he could only sigh and temporarily abandoned the idea of going to get his license back and looked at the blue flowers further on.
“I never thought I’d reach my goal so quickly.”
He took his medical kit from his bag and disinfected the wound in his right arm and left hand before bandaging them.
After resting for an hour and eating his fill, he put the kit back in his backpack.
He rummaged inside the backpack and soon after retrieved a pruning shears, a filtered air mask and a cylindrical glass box filled with water.
He removed his turbant which he tied around his left hand, then opened the box and put the mask on his face before approaching the blue plants.
He used the turbant to hold the pruning shears and cut one of the plants which he put inside the cylinder before closing it carefully, then he put the cylindrical box in his backpack with the mask and the pruning shears.
He looked at his turbant for a moment and put it in his bag.
“This plant is too poisonous. If my gloves hadn’t fallen off, I never would have used my turbant.”
He lay down inside and then slowly fell asleep pensively.
. . . . .
He woke up the next day and put his things in his backpack and started his descent down the mountain.
Thanks to his previous experience, he descended the rock face at high speed.
Compared to climbing, the descent was easier but just as risky, he couldn’t even count the number of times the grips had broken between his fingers, almost making him fall into the void.
He stopped in time to evaluate his previous route before continuing down, about six hours later he arrived at his previous camp and there he saw several cans crushed on the ground, but the most interesting was the red and white card that was under one of the crushed cans.
But he was not happy because he had seen two bird carcasses crushed on the ground, but that was not what bothered him, but rather the six raven-like birds that were eating the carcasses of the two birds.
He immediately erased his presence and silently descended the rocky wall.
He came to get his license in silence and prepared to descend, but one of the birds stopped eating, raised its head and, as if it smelled something, sniffed the air before turning its head towards Raigo.
Birds had a bad sense of smell in general but this species called fog raven had a powerful sense of smell and extremely sharp claws, add to that the size of their bodies, they were formidable hunters in this area.
Normally, even a fog crow would not be able to smell it in an environment with so much olfactory information, but its birds are known to remember for days the smell of the prey they have already hunted.
The raven gave a loud cry and flew towards Raigo, then the other five stopped eating and flew away too.