I Just Wanted to Be a Galactic Hunter—Why Am I on the Wanted List? Chapter 5: Taking the Hook

After psyching herself up, Ms. Thia regained her composure once more.

She gently kissed the photograph, then silently placed the fra back on her bedside table.

She rose from the bed and quietly made her way to the kitchen.

After consuming so utterly unnutritious junk food to fill her stomach, she found a pair of not-very-sharp scissors.

Tears streaming down her face, she slowly but resolutely cut off her brown long hair.

Soon, a short-haired Ms. Thia appeared.

Simultaneously, the expression on her face beca determined.

As if with the disappearance of her hair, her weakness and breakdown had also vanished.

"It's ti to go hunting. Only two and a half days left."

She put on her husband's work uniform—the clothes were practical yet worn—and tucked the black-gold revolver into her chest pocket.

She silently pushed open her door.

Stepped into the night.

And slowly walked toward the darkness.

The nights in the slums were both chaotic and silent.

There were no intact lighting facilities here; the sparse streetlights were mostly broken.

The few remaining streetlights could only emit extrely faint light, barely enough to make out a human figure on the road.

Those moving through the night had to rely on dim light and dayti mory to navigate.

Additionally, because Resource Planet 17 had extre temperature differences between day and night.

People venturing out at night wrapped themselves up tightly.

And beneath these thick clothes, it wasn't just for warmth—they also concealed nurous weapons and contraband.

How many of those willing to go out in the slums at night were actually decent folk?

It was in such an environnt that Ms. Thia began her "hunt."

She disguised herself as a fallen woman desperately in need of contraband, staggering along while leaning against walls.

Whenever she encountered soone, she would slur her words and ask:

"Friend, got any Drunkard's Needle? I can pay anything..."

Like soone who had just used contraband and was not fully conscious—a reckless indulger.

Along the way, most people who encountered Ms. Thia, seeing her in this state, avoided her from a distance.

In the slums, being hooked on "Drunkard's Needle" contraband symbolized disease and misfortune.

Such people had no value—contraband would completely destroy their brains, turning them into dazed, reckless indulgers.

Only a very few, chronically single vagrants, upon seeing Ms. Thia in this state, would smirk and lead her into hidden corners.

"Lost little girl, co with , I've got what you need..."

And these vagrants who thought they could take advantage, after leading Ms. Thia into corners.

What followed was a gunshot.

"Bang!"

Then, Ms. Thia would erge from the dark, hidden corner as if nothing had happened.

In the silent nights of the slums, gunshots were a local specialty.

Her gunshots blended right in—not jarring at all, but rather quite harmonious.

After a while, she would resu her previous disguise, waiting for the next prey to take the bait.

The night passed quickly.

Ms. Thia's harvest was plentiful.

"Four people. I can complete Mr. Loren's mission tonight." Ms. Thia murmured to herself as she prepared to return ho.

Through her efforts throughout the night, she had personally ended four vagrants with that revolver.

These unard vagrants, due to long-term malnutrition, had extrely poor physical condition.

She felt sowhat fortunate about her choice—last night she had encountered almost no effective resistance.

Quite easily, she had accomplished her "hunt."

As dawn approached, she contentedly returned to her small, dilapidated ho.

Only after confirming that no one was following her did Ms. Thia cautiously enter her ho.

Once inside.

She wearily removed her husband's work uniform, checked the revolver—two bullets remained.

Then she went to the simple kitchen to make sothing to eat, satisfying her stomach's needs.

After finishing the unappetizing al, she returned to the bedroom, hugged the photo fra, and fell into a deep sleep.

Although last night's hunt had gone well, her ntal state had been tense throughout.

Afraid that sothing unexpected might happen during the hunt...

The nights in the slums were always full of surprises and dangers.

Fortunately, she had been lucky last night...

Evening.

Ms. Thia woke up in bed.

Just awake, still lying in bed, she began recalling last night's "hunt" in her mind.

She started thinking about her shortcomings, areas where she could improve.

"Too passive. If soone who took the bait was a tough character, it could be troubleso."

"Maybe I should be more proactive, choose my own targets..."

Ms. Thia stared blankly at the faded ceiling as she pondered.

After summarizing areas for improvent, she slowly got out of bed.

After placing the photo fra with her and her husband back in its place, she left the bedroom and went to the kitchen.

After casually eating sothing to fill her stomach, Ms. Thia returned to the bedroom and began resting with her eyes closed.

Tonight, she had another hunting operation.

A much more difficult hunting operation than last night.

Without getting injured, using two bullets to take care of three people.

After complete darkness fell.

Ms. Thia, lying in the bedroom, opened her eyes.

She changed into last night's work uniform, tucked the revolver into her pocket, and once again left ho.

In the pitch-black environnt of the slums, foul odors perated everywhere.

A woman in work clothes moved cautiously forward, selecting her targets for the night.

She walked along the street, scanning the dimly lit areas in the darkness.

As she passed under a faint streetlight, soone called out to her.

"Little girl, want so fun?"

Two n selling contraband here—one older, the other younger.

The two were chatting under this streetlight while waiting for custors.

The younger man, seeing Ms. Thia's furtive movents, called out to her in a half-teasing manner.

Ms. Thia stood in the darkness, silently watching the two n under the streetlight.

Her right hand was in her work uniform pocket, conveniently holding that black-gold revolver.

The three of them just silently watched each other.

The atmosphere felt sowhat off.

The two contraband-selling n also realized sothing.

The other man who hadn't spoken yet said politely to Ms. Thia:

"Sorry to bother you, ma'am."

Ms. Thia didn't respond to the middle-aged man's words, remaining silent as if contemplating sothing.

After a long mont.

Ms. Thia, standing in the dark street, regretfully shook her head.

She nodded to the two n, then quietly departed along the street.

She accepted their apology.

"Pity, only two people." Ms. Thia felt sowhat regretful inside.

After Ms. Thia's figure disappeared.

The man who had apologized finally breathed a sigh of relief and said gravely to his companion:

"Rember, kid, all sorts of people co out in the slums at night. We're just here to do business—don't go looking for trouble!"

"And tonight, I saved your life!"

As a "business operator" wandering through the night, he had keenly sensed the danger and tily defused it.