Superhunt

Chapter 40: "Idiot"

"Would you like to stay and have dinner with me?" Diema asked. "I ordered fried chicken for lunch, and it's a bit too much for me to eat a whole one by myself. We can share and finish it together. I also ordered stir-fried rice cakes and milk tea."

"No, I really have something to do," Jonathan declined politely. "Maybe next time."

"Alright." Diema reluctantly took a cold can of cola from the fridge and handed it to Jonathan. "It's hot outside; drink something cold to cool down."

"Thanks," Jonathan said as he opened the door. "Remember not to open the door for strangers. I'm leaving now; goodbye."

"I know; I always ask the delivery guy to leave my order outside the door and wait until they leave before picking it up," Diema waved. "Goodbye."

Jonathan turned and walked downstairs. As he reached the corner between the second and first floors, he suddenly saw a man wearing a sun hat, with his face obscured, standing at the stairway entrance.

Having faced life-threatening situations multiple times, his ability to assess and predict danger had become almost instinctive. He had read crime investigation books and learned how to analyze a person's profile.

In just a second, Jonathan instinctively applied the knowledge he had learned to profile the man before him.

The man's arm muscles were well-defined, indicating strength. His walking pace had been slightly hurried and disorganized, but his footsteps were not heavy; in fact, they were light, as if he was excited about something, making his walking posture seem almost buoyant.

Jonathan's temples throbbed as he sensed something was off, and he tried to probe the man, "Are you a resident here? I don't think I've seen you before."

Suppressing a trembling reaction, Semanuick responded, "Is this Building 15?"

Just as a mouse would instinctively feel fear when encountering a cat, Semanuick felt the same way when he came face-to-face with the hunter.

The situation had developed beyond his expectations. The man in front of him seemed to be able to jump out of the timeline, his actions not controlled by fate. According to the predetermined development, the hunter should have come to Diema's house around evening, but now he had arrived early! How could this be?!

"Building 15 is next door, this is Building 14," Jonathan said, eyeing him.

"I'm here to see my father-in-law; it's my first time here, and I'm not familiar with the area, so I got lost," Semanuick faked a natural laugh, doing his best to appear nonchalant. "Thanks for the directions."

Jonathan looked down at him from the stairs, "I'm sorry, I was wrong earlier; Building 15 is not next door."

"Huh?" Semanuick was taken aback.

"There is no Building 15 in this neighborhood," Jonathan said. "Why don't you ask your father-in-law for the correct address? Once you know, I can guide you there."

Semanuick: "..."

He couldn't help but feel his heart race. He suspected the hunter had become suspicious; he hadn't fully grasped the neighborhood layout and didn't know there was no Building 15.

The hunter knew but had deliberately said Building 15 was next door.

"No need..." Semanuick remained calm, "I don't want to trouble you; I'll find it on my own."

Semanuick backed down, unable to confront the hunter head-on because he had exhausted his death loop count, and dying again would mean permanent death.

Semanuick turned and left, doing his best to make his steps look less frantic and hurried. However, Jonathan followed him like a silent ghost, always staying three meters behind him. He sped up, and so did Jonathan. He slowed down, and so did Jonathan.

Jonathan maintained a safe distance of three meters from him, neither too close nor too far, blatantly following him.

Fear, like a festering wound, gradually penetrated deep into Semanuick's heart.

He left the neighborhood, and Jonathan followed him. He went through alleyways and made sharp turns, trying to shake off the hunter, but he caught up with him even faster. Semanuick deliberately went through crowds to try and block Jonathan's line of sight, only to turn around and find, damn it, he was still there! He was always there! Lingering like a ghost!

He was a wolf, a hunter, who would not easily let go of his prey once he had set his sights on it.

The prey's mental defenses gradually crumbled. He felt like a helpless little rabbit, pinned under the wolf's foot, who wouldn't eat him but licked its sharp teeth, salivating.

Jonathan trailed behind him for a minute and quickly confirmed his identity. He was Semanuick, the suspect in the cult murder case.

A forensic discipline called "footprint analysis" analyzed suspects' characteristics and tracked them effectively by observing their walking posture and footprints. Jonathan had read a book on this subject and, with his inherent talent for "fast learning," had mastered the theory. This was his first time applying it in practice.

Jonathan had seen the surveillance footage released by the police this morning, and the walking posture of Semanuick in the video was extremely similar to that of the man before him.

Combined with his previous suspicious behavior, Jonathan was almost certain his real identity was Semanuick.

Driven into a corner, Semanuick's steps became increasingly disordered. Suddenly, he turned around, stood in the middle of the road, and said hoarsely, "You're insane... you're insane!"

"I'm not; you are. How does it feel to kill your wife, children, and parents?" Jonathan stops his feet.

"Ha," Semanuick spread his arms, "You're afraid of revealing your identity, aren't you?"

Every time the hunter went out, he was fully armed. He hadn't had time to disguise himself in his hometown of San Diego, which was why Semanuick had seen his real face.

"You're afraid, too. Our fears are equal," Jonathan said expressionlessly.

They stood beside the busy road three meters apart at that moment. As pedestrians passed by during their conversation, they tacitly remained silent, staring at each other from a distance.

"Do you dare to kill me on the road? So many people are watching," Semanuick growled.

"Do you dare to drag this out with me?" Jonathan sneered, "I am a law-abiding citizen; you are not."

"if you Call the police, I'll yell in the middle of the road that you're a player," Semanuick's eyes were red with rage, "If I die, you won't get off easy either. You're not disguised now!"

"...I'm not disguised now?" Jonathan repeated the sentence, puzzled.

"Now" is an intriguing word. Opposite to "now" are "past" and "future." His facial expression changed from perplexity to subtlety and finally to realization. "I understand, so that's how it is... so that's how it is," Jonathan realized, "This is your super ability."

"Can you predict the future?" he muttered to himself, "No, it doesn't seem that simple. Something's a little off, not quite right... Your ability isn't predicting the future... What could it be then?"

Semanuick took a step back, utterly terrified. It was just a single word he had used incorrectly, and the hunter had grasped the key point.

"I find it quite interesting... how fearless you are. Why did you come to San Diego? Why did you target me?" Jonathan asked, "To be honest, you... are quite mediocre. You have a weak psychological tolerance, and it seems like you don't have much in terms of combat skills. I've only been following you briefly, and you're already terrified... Why are you so confident that you fearlessly came looking for me? If you really can predict the future, shouldn't you be able to predict my abilities? I don't think I'm weak, but you still fearlessly came."

The hunter pondered, "Hmm... could it be that you really aren't afraid of dying?"

Semanuick could no longer maintain his composure. His eyes widened as if he had seen a ghost. When he drowned in the fountain last time, the hunter had also said the same thing - "Could it be that you really aren't afraid of dying?"

He had become sensitive to an inhuman extent!

Jonathan thought momentarily, "It seems we are at a stalemate. Neither of us wants to expose our identities."

"What do you want to do?" Semanuick asked hoarsely.

"How about we let each other go?" Jonathan suggested with a smile, "We don't interfere with each other and part ways from now on."

Semanuick gladly agreed, "Deal!"

This was exactly what he wanted. Once his death cycle reset, no one could do anything to him. He would still be hidden, while the hunter would remain exposed. Wouldn't it be easy for him to do anything he wanted?

Moreover, Semanuick believed he had found Jonathan's weakness - his fear of his identity being exposed.

"Then we've reached an agreement," Jonathan said with a smile, "You can go now."

Semanuick took a step back, then another, and when he saw that Jonathan had no intention of pursuing him, he bolted.

Jonathan stood there, not moving, and as Semanuick rounded a corner, Jonathan muttered, "Idiot."

Semanuick had almost zero tracking skills, while Jonathan was a professional undercover agent, and he was in San Diego, his familiar territory. Plus, he had the super ability to move through shadows. If he truly wanted to track someone, no one could detect him, including that fool, Semanuick.