The Hunter Genesis

By Jasveer Singh Dangi

When Nasir-ud-Din Muḥammad Shah, a weak Mughal king, discovers the whereabouts of powerful weapons used in the worst battle mankind had ever seen, he is ready to go to any lengths to acquire them. His mighty empire is at its weakest, with threats of imminent attack from outside and enemies within India consolidating more control. With desperation, Shah hatches a plan and there is only one man who can help him – THE HUNTER.

The Hunter is a finder of rare antiquities and is highly reputed for his impeccable skills. Though he mysteriously remembers nothing of his past, he has powers that make him invincible. But it all changes one day, when he gets forced to embark to Kanika Dwar, to retrieve weapons the power-hungry king desires.

Tackling difficult mountainous terrains, thick jungles, dangerous bandits and rough waters, The Hunter races against time to find what’s been hidden away for centuries and save a loved one from the clutches of the king. But he knows handing over the Godly weapons can only bring destruction in epic proportions.

Will he relent under pressure? Or find a way to save the world from unthinkable damage? Find out in Book I of The Hunter Genesis, where the legends from our ancient world collide with the madness of the 18th century.

• Language: English
• Publisher: One Point Six Technologies Pvt Ltd
• Release date: Jan 18, 2023
• ISBN: 9789356671959

Jasveer Singh Dangi

Jasveer is an author, podcast host, behavioural trainer, and award-winning health and safety professional based in Canada. He started writing in 2018 with his childhood memoir, Version One and a Half (Version 1 1⁄2). Since then, he has published a total of eight books and co-authored two.Though he calls himself an accidental author, his books have been well-received and he too has received many accolades for his writings.1. Author of the Year in Fiction and Non-Fiction category by Ukiyoto Publishing for Ensemble – A collection of short stories and essays.2. Rated as one of the 10 Indian Authors Redefining Modern Literature by Kathmandu Tribune in January, 2020.3. Recognized by Ne8X with Sahitya Kosh Samman Award in Literature.4. In 2018, he was awarded by IISSM for his contributions towards the Health and Safety Training domain.5. In 2019, Literature Light recognized him as one of the top 100 debut authors for his debut book, Version One and a Half (Version 1 1⁄2).6. He was named as the 'Author of the Fest' at the Writing Wizards Fest 2020 for his book, Double One Zero (110) - Out of the shadows. The Writing Wizards Fest is an initiative by The Twilight of Poem (www.twilightofpoem.in).Jasveer loves the outdoors and is a big movie buff, which is quite evident given the use of quotes and songs from movies at strategic places in all his books. He is an avid observer of his surroundings and uses characters and instances from everyday situations for his stories.His works include:- The Essence of Ganga – The Story of Mandakini- Ensemble – A collection of short stories and essays,- The Incredible Mr Sweets – A coming-of-age story of an ex-con who finds his calling in life through music,- Shahenshah – The story of Shrenik Shah, the cancer conqueror,- The Metro-Maniac Chronicles - Through the eyes of an Obsessive-Compulsive Metro-Maniac,- Double One Zero (110) – Out of the Shadows,- Diary from Heaven - Confessions of an Eternal Junkie,- Version One and a Half (Version 1 1⁄2) - A glimpse of India in the ‘80s,- Concealed Words (Co-Author), and- Life – A culmination of stories (Co-Author).He also shares his thoughts on www.storymirror.com, www.medium.com, www.merrative.com, www.theceylonvoice.com, #jasveersinghdangi (Instagram account and his Facebook page). He also hosts a podcast, interviewing authors and other professionals on his website www.jasveersinghdangi.com.

Book preview

Chapter-1

Bharat, or India, as the Greeks named it, has a rich history that dates back many thousand years. It is one of the most ancient civilizations still in existence. Thanks to its nickname, the Golden Bird, many invaders from across the world have attacked its borders, countless times, to loot the riches. The Mughal Empire was an Islamic early-modern empire that controlled much of South Asia between the sixteenth and nineteenth centuries. The Mughal Empire was founded in 1526 by Babur, a warrior chieftain from what is called Uzbekistan now. Using aid from the neighbouring Safavid and Ottoman empires, he amassed a huge army that defeated the Sultan of Delhi, Ibrahim Lodhi, in the first battle of Panipat, and swept down the plains of Upper India. The Mughal empire stretched from the outer fringes of the Indus river basin in the west, northern Afghanistan in the northwest, and Kashmir in the north, to the highlands of present-day Assam and Bangladesh in the east, and the uplands of the Deccan Plateau in South India. They ruled across the major parts of South Asia with an iron fist for over two hundred years, but just like any other powerful empire, they too saw a decline towards the first half of the eighteenth century.

Orn

It is now the eighteenth century, and the world is fast changing. The Mughal rule in India is dwindling, as the British consolidated their control over more and more Indian territories. The British ruled with their divide-and-rule policy, and many old kingdoms were on the verge of extinction. Anyone friendly with the British was flourishing, while those opposing them would perish. The British army had global exposure, advanced weaponry, and superior military tactics, while the Indian kings and administrators had, at best, the experience of fighting amongst themselves. Amidst all the chaos, a new nobility of Zamindars or landowners loyal to the British emerged across India. The landowners controlled a vast majority of land across the country. It was a win-win situation as the British were entitled to the majority of whatever was produced on their land. In return, the British provided them with arms, and bestowed the landowners with status and titles.

The landowners were wealthy and had an expensive taste in exquisite items, especially antiquities. They paid handsomely for beautiful and antique objects. The Hunter was their point man when it came to acquiring rare and exquisite antiquities. There were other treasure hunters, but none like him. Many regarded him as a hero, while others considered him evil because of his insatiable lust for gold. But everyone knew that he could find things no other could ever find, and he always delivered on his promises; he was the best of the best. It really didn’t matter if he was a hero or a villain; what mattered was that the story of the Hunter and that of his sword was legendary, and well-known across India.

The Hunter was a man with no past and no name, and he was inseparable from his sword. No one knew anything about his background, or about the sword he carried. It was unlike any other sword in that time. The blade emitted a strange aura when dipped in blood. Everyone wanted it, yet no one ever tried to get their hands on it, because it was said to have been made in hell. Many speculated that he was a ghost; an evil spirit that roamed the earth, because he was denied entry into the underworld. The nutjobs even speculated that he came back from the dead with magical powers and that he was, in fact, a Djinn. One of the widely known theories about his past was that he had spent a lot of time in China, learning their fighting styles from none other than the Shaolin monks, while others said that he was a European who had fought many battles and that he had lost his memory due to an injury.

Speculations, myths and stories aside, he was well-known for his skills to find things that no one else could find. No one knew his real story or his real name. In reality, the Hunter himself didn’t know his name. He had woken up twenty years ago in Rishikesh, when some fishermen saved him from drowning in the river Ganges. He’d awoken with amnesia. While the Hunter had no memory, the exceptional skills he possessed helped him become famous as the Hunter over the next few years. Everyone simply called him ‘Hunter’ because of his reputation for finding antiquities and rare objects. The legend of the Hunter and his sword grew with each adventure. He worked for anyone who rewarded him handsomely for his services; he was in huge demand amongst the landowners keen on displaying their newly earned wealth and status. They would pay anything that the Hunter demanded. His services were even utilised by the erstwhile and reigning kings. He had a good reputation all around, and he never took sides. His only condition was that whatever he recovered must stay in the country, and that is why he never worked for the British or the Portuguese.

Since he dealt with everyone: the wealthy landowners, Marathas, Rajputs, Mughals, etc., no one ever touched him. Everyone respected his skills, paid him generously for his services, and he moved freely in all the kingdoms and provinces across India. Whatever the reality about his past, the fact was that he had been untouched; not even the Kings would touch him, but everything was about to change now.

Orn

The man wakes up to a sharp pain at the back of his head. ‘AAAAHHH…Water,’ the man groans in pain. He was thirsty.

When there was no response, he slowly opened his eyes; it was dark. He looked around and was barely able to see anything or anyone. He tried to move his hands to reach his head, but it was as if someone was holding his arms. The man struggled to free his arms, but he couldn’t move them. Seeing his arms stuck sideways, he quickly got back to his senses and turned his head to the side. His arms were tied along the side walls with heavy chains, and he was in a dungeon. He looked around with eyes wide open, and soon his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He was able to see a man sitting in the corner. Though he could not see the mystery man clearly, he could guess that the man was some sort of high-ranking officer, judging by the mystery man’s headgear. The mystery man was sitting comfortably with his arms crossed, well away from where the chained man was tied up. The chained man stopped struggling with his binds; stood up straight and smiled.

‘I intended to raise my hand to salute, but you know…’ the chained man said sarcastically, looking at the chains binding his arms. There was no response from the mystery man sitting in the cell.

Seeing that the mystery man wouldn’t respond, the chained man continued, ‘Where am I?’

The chained man’s desperation brought a smile to the mystery man’s face.

‘The mighty Hunter is finally awake.’ The mystery man chuckled.

‘Why have I been tied up? Let me go.’ The Hunter demanded an explanation. ‘Who is your King?’ The Hunter fired a volley of questions, but the mystery man just sat there staring at him.

Never had the Hunter ever been in such a situation before. He was indeed stressed.

There was silence for a while, and then the mystery man looked at the soldier standing outside the grated door and said, ‘I don’t see him having any magical powers.’

‘Look at him struggling,’ the mystery man mocked the Hunter, and giggled. The Hunter laughed along for a while. Suddenly, the Hunter stopped laughing and lunged towards the mystery man with all his might, ‘HAAAAAAAA!’

Though the Hunter could hardly move from his place, the mystery man was taken aback. He looked back nervously. The Hunter was still tied up with the chains in the same place.

‘IS HE SECURELY TIED UP?’ The mystery man almost yelled, looking at the soldier nervously. The soldier nodded, trying to control his laughter, seeing the mystery man scared of the Hunter who was tied up in chains.

‘How did you get me?’ the Hunter asked calmly. He tried to look at the mystery man through the strands of hair which were all over his face, blocking his eyes. He shook his head trying to get the hair off his eyes. The drops of sweat trickling down his face didn’t make it any easier for him. It was hot and humid there.

The mystery man sat there looking back. It was as if he was trying to get on the Hunter’s nerves. Getting no response, the Hunter got impatient and yelled, ‘WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?’

The mystery man ignored the Hunter again, and instead looked at the soldier and nodded. The soldier walked up to him. ‘Bring me his bag,’ the mystery man whispered, and the soldier walked out of the dungeon.

After a while, the soldier walked in with a leather bag and bowed in front of the mystery man. The mystery man slowly opened the leather bag while looking at the Hunter; almost mocking him. The Hunter struggled with the chains as he saw the mystery man fiddling with his pack. The mystery man took out a beautiful sword from the bag.

‘I need some light,’ the mystery man said, and the soldier walked in with a torch and lit another torch on the wall near the Hunter. The light from the torch blinded the Hunter for a moment. He then opened his eyes slowly. The Hunter was now able to see the mystery man’s face clearly.

‘Bishop…’ the Hunter said, shaking his head in disbelief.

The Bishop moved the sheath near the torch, and the exquisite diamonds reflected light through the dungeon. The Bishop slid the sword out of the sheath and glided the blade in the air elegantly. The blade seemed to turn green when light reflected off its surface. It was unlike any other sword the Bishop had ever seen, so he was indeed fascinated. ‘That’s mine.’ The Hunter said, desperately trying to reach out.

‘IT BELONGS TO THE KING!’ the Bishop screamed. The Bishop looked at the blade with a crazed look in his eyes.

‘Sir?’ The soldier holding the pack said nervously as he noticed the Bishop continuously staring at the blade. The Bishop looked at the soldier and snapped out of it. He quickly slid the blade back into the sheath.

It does have magical powers, because for a moment I was completely lost, he thought. Though he was wary about holding the sword, he wanted to present a brave face in front of the soldier and the Hunter.

The Bishop then confidently moved the sheath away from the torch. The sheath was still glowing in the dark. It seemed like hundreds of fireflies covered it. It was decorated with precious diamonds, and the craftsmanship on the handle was exquisite. The handle was made out of gold.

‘How did you get me?’ the Hunter asked again as the Bishop admired the artwork on the sheath.

‘The Sword of the East,’ the Bishop said, ecstatic as he examined the sheath. He completely ignored what the Hunter asked and continued, ‘Said to have been created by the greatest warrior in the East, using the metal from a rock from outside this world,’ the Bishop pretended to admire the sword.

The Bishop then stood up and walked towards the Hunter.

‘They say that it can cut through anything, any metal,’ the Bishop said, looking at the Hunter, pulling the sword out of the sheath. The blade slid out with a ‘clint’ sound that echoed through the dungeon. Although the Bishop was taken aback by the sound it made while coming out of the sheath, he pretended to stand like a warrior.

‘Metal and bones as well,’ the Hunter said, tightening his jaw.

‘Is he locked securely?’ the Bishop asked the soldier who’d brought in the bag, again. The soldier was about seven feet tall. He remained quiet and simply nodded again.

‘Do you guys even talk at all?’ the Bishop said sarcastically, looking at the soldier.

The Bishop slashed the sword in the air and moved in style. He played with the blade like an expert swordsman. His movements got faster and faster, and the sound the sword made while it was cutting through the air grew louder and louder.

Yes, I can handle it, he thought ecstatically while moving the sword in the air.

The Hunter closed his eyes and got ready for the inevitable. The Bishop lunged towards the Hunter with great intensity. The Hunter felt the sword moving close to his skin. He slowly opened his eyes, and first, looked at the Bishop standing in front of him, and then at the blade, which was only a nano-centimetre away from his throat. The Bishop might be nervous about handling the sword but he did move like a seasoned warrior. The Hunter laughed hysterically. The Bishop, too, laughed along with him. They laughed for a while, and then the Hunter suddenly stopped laughing and looked at the Bishop. His eyes were boiling with anger. The Bishop was taken aback, and he quickly backed off while pointing the sword toward the Hunter.

‘The food at the merchant’s place was laced with sedatives,’ the Bishop said while looking at the sword. The Hunter visualised sneaking into a merchant’s place for an assignment in Karnal and smiled. ‘How did you know that I would be there?’ he growled at the thought of being snitched.

Only people close to him knew about the meeting, so he was indeed furious. But the Bishop continued to admire the sword with pride while pointing it at the Hunter. Meanwhile, the Hunter pictured everyone who knew about the meeting, in his mind.

Bhiku is a small-time crook, he wouldn’t do it… Uma is like my shadow, she couldn’t possibly betray me… the merchant… He thought and paused for a moment. Naa… Javed’s wife tied rakhi on my wrist, he won’t ever betray me… then who snitched on me? He continued thinking.

Seeing the Bishop not paying attention to him, the Hunter changed the topic. ‘So, you captured me for some work?’ He asked calmly but the Bishop pretended to ignore him. ‘Otherwise, the mighty Bishop would not have ventured into the dungeon.’ The Hunter smiled as the Bishop now looked at him.

The Bishop quickly retreated the sword. ‘Sadly, yes,’ the Bishop replied, feeling disappointed.

‘I wanted to kill you for stealing my best horse,’ he continued, signalling the tall soldier. ‘But the King wants to talk to you,’ the Bishop said, walking away from the Hunter. The Bishop’s eyes were still hooked on the sword. The soldier unshackled the Hunter, and the Hunter rubbed his arms.

The Bishop turned around and looked at the Hunter rubbing his arms and smiled, ‘Nothing personal, I was just following orders.’ The Bishop chuckled. The Hunter was also about to join in, when he suddenly lunged at the Bishop, ‘Yaaaaaaa!’

Anyone looking at the Hunter would’ve thought that he’d flown through the air for a few seconds. The Bishop was taken aback and it was as if his giggles had been shoved back into his throat. He stumbled and almost fell backwards, squealing like a puppy. He lost grip of the sword and crouched behind the chair, covering his face. The sword fell to the floor with a clang. The soldier rushed towards the Hunter with a sword, and the Hunter stopped short of punching the Bishop.

The Hunter laughed out loud, seeing the Bishop shriek like a small child. The soldier too, giggled, seeing the Bishop cower. The Bishop quickly picked up the sword, and before he could point the blade towards the Hunter, the Hunter moved in with lightning speed and hit the Bishop’s arm. ‘Aaaahhhhh!’ the Bishop screamed in pain, dropping the sword.

The Hunter quickly swooped in, snatching the sword mid-air. He placed the sword on the Bishop’s shoulder. The Bishop raised his arms, trembling with fear. The Hunter was almost six feet tall, and when they stood in front of each other, he easily towered over him. The Bishop looked up at the Hunter’s face nervously. The Hunter’s face was covered with hair, and drops of sweat trickled all over his face. For a moment the Bishop felt as if the Hunter had put him under a spell and he wasn’t able to move at all.

‘Let him go; you have no place to run,’ the tall soldier said, pointing his sword at him.

‘How did you get me?’ the Hunter asked.

‘Come with me, and you will know. The King is waiting for us,’ the Bishop cleared his throat. Clearly, he was nervous about answering the question and again deflected.

The Hunter lowered the sword, picked up the sheath, and took a cloth from the leather bag. He carefully cleaned the blade even as the Bishop stood there stunned. He slid the sword back into the sheath and presented it to the Bishop.

‘Boooo!’ the Hunter exclaimed, and the Bishop quickly hid behind the tall soldier. He took a peek from behind the soldier’s shoulder.

‘Take it; it’s a replica. But the diamonds are real,’ the Hunter said, presenting the sword to the Bishop. The Bishop came out from behind the tall soldier and looked at the sword carefully.

‘The real Sword of the East is with a monk in China,’ the Hunter said while looking through the leather bag. He took out a ragged stole and wore it. He also took out a gunpowder bag, belt, and pistol. The Hunter tied the belt along his waist and put the gun in his waistband.

‘The King will have my head when he comes to know that this is fake,’ the Bishop mumbled in fear, looking at the sword.

‘Then don’t tell him the truth,’ the Hunter whispered.

‘You can hear my thoughts? You do have magical powers?’ the Bishop asked, surprised that the Hunter