AN: This is the best Ranma crossover I have ever read.
You can't see the eyes of the demon until 'em come
-King Willy, former kingpin
of the Jamaican drug cartel
Before it lay the small blue globe that had been the selected spot of the Hunt for so many years. It's wispy white clouds, the etched lines of brown that surrounded the seven continents strewn upon its surface, the blue-green hue of the immense waters that blanketed the planet's skin, they practically screamed of life. And where there was life, there was the Hunt.
Granted, not just ANY creature was worthy of the Hunt. Sure, for a quick Trophy one could simply land in the middle of a savanna and shoot a sleeping... what were they called here? Lions? Whatever they were called the so-called "hunters" of this world felt that surrounding one of these creatures and emptying their loads of ammunition upon it was some grand act of courage, as though the lion actually had a chance to leap upward and defend itself, to yell back at them defiantly that it was prepared for their challenge. What a joke some of these men are. They do not know the true taste of a Hunt, the way its aura will sting in your mouth, driving you on, knowing that you have the potential to be wiped out by your Prey as well. These men. What fools they are. To call themselves "hunters" is an insult to a title that should be cherished, as though it were your own name.
But somewhere within their little heads DOES in fact lie a precious ability, a commodity one would not expect at first glance from such an awkward species - through their deviousness, their mild cunning, their ruthlessness, therein lies the ability to make fantastic Prey. It is not found within many of them, sadly; the children are feeble, as are their old, and should be allowed to continue on their way. The women, while having some potential, lack for the most part the antagonistic spirit necessary for an enjoyable Hunt. There have been a few, and when hunted they make astoundingly entertaining Prey, but they are a disappointing few. That leaves the males, ranging from early adulthood to middle age. And even from within THAT wide a group comes the restrictions... The requirements of strength, speed, cunning, ingenuity, all these are prerequisite factors, and not many can meet them. But there ARE those few... While not bearing the same animalistic ferocity as the xenomorphs it and its kind have planted on various sport-worlds, or the brutish physical resistance of the armored juggernauts that roam its own world's dusty seas, the games the humans play with the mind, theirs and one's own, make their shining white skulls a coveted ornament.
The usual procedure of the Hunt is to find a certain group of individuals that seem strong, then chop them down until one is left standing. That one may not always be present at the preliminary slaughter, but with enough agitation it will emerge from its hole and present itself, and THAT is when the true Hunt begins, for the last one standing is usually the leader of the pack, the strongest, the most worthy. The groups range anywhere from certain law enforcement agencies to the equivalent of what must be a military to certain groups that operate against the general consensus, called "criminals" by most humans. And there are still other groups : fighters, daredevils, mercenaries, so many to choose from! IF you can find the right qualities...
And it has found a certain group to its liking. A group that may in fact prove worthy of a Hunt. A group located on an island situated alongside a large continent at the edge of the world's largest ocean. A group inhabiting an area south of a moderately- sized city known as Tokyo. A group originating in a little district named Nerima.
You can find interesting Prey in some of the most curious of places...