the hunt

In the underworld, if you don't crush the windpipe, the target breathes. If they breathe, they hunt." Vance was the tip of the spear for "The Hounds," a legendary, ghost-tier black-ops squad that handled the syndicate's dirtiest clean-up operations. They didn't exist on paper, and they didn't leave witnesses. But in a world built on blood money, loyalty has a hard price tag. Betrayed by their own high-ranking handler during a setup at a rain-slicked shipyard, the entire squad was systematically executed. Left for dead in a locked shipping container with broken ribs and a bleeding lung, Vance didn't die. He adapted. Pulling a dark-grey, faceless ballistic cowl over his head, he steps back out into the neon-lit, concrete underbelly of the city with a single, unyielding objective: absolute extermination of the corporate syndicate. There are no flashy superhuman powers here. No magical s