“What are you hunting?” Gregson asked.

“Assholes,” Tom said.

“What kind of license do you need for that?”

“One that you can swipe, or is it wipe?”

“What are the rules?”

“Our prey gets an inferior weapon and a money belt. If we kill them, we get the prize. If they kill us, well… we die.”

“What kind of inferior weapon?”

“A lawyer was allowed to use her pen. She got one of the hunters through the throat. Dubois wrote him off and then wrote her a check. Plus, she got to keep her money-belt.”

“Aren’t you worried that you could end up dead?”

“Naw, that’s not going to happen to us,” Randy said.

“Why are you telling me this?” Gregson asked.

“You’re one of us. Anybody can see that.”

“It’s a dangerous game you’re playing. What’s in it for Dubois?”

“He’s filming a Reality TV show about head hunters. This is the pilot. It goes on the dark web next week. Rumor has it, the actual show will be on an island, and all the previous contestants will get the chance to hunt each other for the ultimate prize. The one who comes out alive, wins 100 million dollars.”

“And you believe Dubois has the money?”

“Of course. He’s wealthier than God.”

“How can I join the hunt?”

“Be a predator or a prey—it pays more to be the hunted though, but it’s less likely, you’ll come out alive.”

Solving a case over casual conversation wasn’t satisfying, Gregson thought. Dubois was obviously insane but then, the PI wondered… What if I won 100 million dollars? I could really retire and write my memoirs.