Jack Rungo examined his new Zone and smiled to no one, happy with the work he had done alongside the Fronkilas. He took a cigar out of his coat, also took out a lighter, and lit it.
He walked inside the palace of the king he had defeated, and the state was like the palace of the Zone Z kingdom, in ruins. He saw the throne and gazed at it while smoking calmly.
The entire population was outside, and only the Fronkilas were inside the palace, though in other rooms. A group was organizing the people to stay there for a few days before a mission.
Suddenly, his cell phone started ringing. He answered and activated the hologram, which presented a tall, muscular black man with a shiny bald head and a thick beard.
"Go ahead, Zangongo," said Jack Rungo and remained still for a moment, watching the hologram flicker in front of him.
"Jack, we have a problem."
Jack tilted his head slightly.
"If it's a problem, it's an expensive one, Zangongo." He leaned back in the throne, his fingers drumming on the armrest. "And you know I don’t work cheap."
Zangongo grunted, a rough and heavy sound.
"Don’t give me that, Jack. I always pay well. But this time, maybe even money won’t be enough to convince you."
Jack raised an eyebrow. Few things in the world could make him hesitate, and even fewer could convince him without a pile of money involved.
The hologram flickered for a moment, then the image changed. A three-dimensional map appeared, marked with flashing red dots. Five in total.
"Kronkilas." The word escaped Jack's lips like poison.
Zangongo nodded slowly.
"The clones went wrong."
Jack held his breath for a moment, remembering the origin of the Kronkilas.
The underground laboratory hummed with chaotic energy. Scientists ran from one side to the other, their white coats stained with sweat and adrenaline. In the center of the room, immersed in amber-colored tubes, were they, the first Kronkilas.
Created from the DNA of the most formidable hunters in history, they were more than clones; they were living weapons. The PHOBYLONG project was meant to ensure that Moamba would never again be held hostage by untamable hunters. If hunters hunted monsters, the Kronkilas would hunt the hunters.
But there was a problem.
They were strong. Too strong.
The first tests showed that the Kronkilas not only replicated the abilities of the original hunters, but amplified them. Faster reflexes, overwhelming brute strength, resistance beyond human logic. But above all, they had no loyalty.
On the ninth day after their activation, they freed themselves. And began the hunt.
First, they killed the scientists. Then, the soldiers who tried to contain them. Finally, they disappeared into the world, like beasts without masters, leaving a trail of bodies behind.
Jack had never faced a Kronkila before. But now it seemed that was about to change.
Jack sighed and rubbed his chin.
"How many got away?"
"Five."
"And the government can't handle them?"
Zangongo let out a humorless laugh.
"You think if I could solve this myself, I'd be calling you?"
Jack squinted, staring at the points on the map. Five Kronkilas, each carrying the lethal skills of hunters he respected... and whom he had hunted himself.
"And how much is each head worth?"
Zangongo's silence lasted a second longer than it should have.
"Ten million mambas. Each."
Jack whistled, impressed.
"Five clones, fifty million. You are really desperate, huh?"
"They’re wiping everything in their path. If it continues like this, Moamba could collapse. I don’t want your name just because of your strength, Jack. I want it because you're the only hunter who’s never lost a hunt."
Jack smiled, but it wasn't a pleasant smile.
"So, I'm the government's last resort?"
Zangongo tilted his head, his gray eyes fixed on Jack’s.
"You've always been, Jack. From day one."
Soon after the words, Jack Rungo had a flashback.
The young Jack Rungo, still without scars, without the weight of countless deaths in his eyes, walked through the golden hall of the Moamba Palace. In front of him, sitting on a black metal throne, was Zangongo, already a respected and feared leader.
"Jack Rungo, the greatest hunter in Moamba. You have two options."
Jack remained silent, waiting.
"Either you work for me and hunt your own kind... or you become the government's hunt."
The choice was obvious.
And thus, the hunter of hunters was born.
Jack returned to the present and took a deep breath. He felt that this mission wouldn’t be like the others. The Kronkilas were different from the Fronkilas.
But fifty million was hard to ignore.
"Send the coordinates. I'll start tomorrow," said Rungo.
Zangongo nodded.
"Good luck, Jack."
The hologram dissipated, leaving Jack alone in his Zone, surrounded by Kronkilas, the automatons who worked for him. He closed his eyes for a moment, allowing himself to feel the calm before the mission.
To be continued...
Glossary: Fronkilas - Hunters who hunt other hunters
Kronkilas - Clone hunters of hunters