I'll begin by explaining how I got into such a bizarre business. Several years ago, I got involved in the deep-web craze. I would spend hours on TOR, browsing hidden websites, and buying illicit drugs and weapons with bit-coins whenever it suited my fancy.
I was, and continue to be, a person of little moral compass.
I would like to say that I took all of the necessary precautions to remain anonymous, but I did not. All the same, I have so much money now that it doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things. I was lucky, not intelligent. There's a difference. I got out unscathed, and in the green. It's a rare occurrence.
One precaution I didn't skimp on, was staying mobile. I saved up a considerable amount of money selling credit card numbers, and stored it in off-shore accounts. I carried multiple burner phones and sums of cash that would make a normal person feel uncomfortable. I traveled through various private means that I won't go into.
We "collectors" congregated on a heavily encrypted message board where we would share tips and tricks as well as pick up jobs posted by wealthy individuals seeking what we referred to as "pieces." We even had our own software to track the different types and rarities of these pieces, akin to some sort of sick, real-life Pokedex. In the past, other methods were used - but the Internet changed everything.
A "piece" was not a gun, or a portion of fine ass. To us collectors - a piece was pure unadulterated cash. Client's purchased pieces for a few reasons: status symbols, trade or business, and pleasure. Adjusted from bit coin - common pieces started at $10,000 USD. I've heard of ultra-rare pieces fetching upwards of a quarter-million or more though.
None of these pieces could be found in a National Geographic, or anywhere remotely close to the public domain. These creatures are very much alive, and sometimes considerably dangerous. They are not in any known text books, guides, manuals, websites, blogs, or zoos. This was an exclusive club that valued secrecy over anything else. The only way into the club, was an invitation.
One collector on the boards referred to us as Twisted Trophy Hunters. I took a offense to this - as Lion's didn't make a habit of burrowing into people's brains. These creatures were not like traditional pets.
I lurked on the boards for a long time before I accepted my first bounty. A collector's first bounty was monumental. Not only was it a rite of passage in the community, but it established the collector as a reputable agent, giving him or her the clout to attract higher paying clients. The risk was on a spectrum, but it was always present.
Gearing up for my trip to Nepal was exciting, but nerve wracking.
Nepal was a hot-bed for rare pieces. There's a lot of history with the silk road that I won't go into here. Most of the pieces were smuggled into underground markets within a major city that will go unnamed. The smugglers have used roughly the same methods for centuries. The Nepalese government was notoriously bad at staying current with our "activities" so it was considered a good training ground for people like me. In fact, it may have been on purpose.
This "game" was as equally important to the client, as it was to the collector, but it didn't make me look good to ask questions. In order to find what I was looking for, I would need some place to start. Technically the client is supposed to provide the first lead - but it is a rare example of a rule not being enforced often enough.
I was looking for a "Grue." At least that was its common name, it was tagged as #3301 (RR). No surprise the guys that designed the Dex were video game nerds. The Grue was valued at around $27,000 - and it was a double-rare, which meant double commission for me. All in all, I stood to profit around 10 G's. The rest of the coins would go directly to the board.
My client, who remained anonymous, dropped a private message to me shortly after I settled in, insisting I meet with a delegate of theirs. This was not out of the ordinary, but I was already taking enough chances. I declined, and opted to mark my bounty as freelance instead. This provided collectors like me with an opportunity to politely inform the client we preferred to work alone - besides, the community provided enough information on how and where to capture 3301.
I was so sure of myself back then.
In the Dex, community research members would share any helpful tips for collectors to use on the go. It was actually a pretty nice system - and the free market kept most of the data accurate, after all - "whitecoats" earned a percentage of the bounty if the collector marked a tip as helpful - and marking a tip kept the system honest and useful.
3301, in keeping with it's nickname, preferred dark and damp environments.
Here is an example of 3301's Dex entry (some data redacted):
3301 (RR) - "Grue"
Value: 10.10
Caution: Yellow
Habitat: Subterranean
Height: 3 ft. 6 in.
Weight: 220 lbs
Known Captive: (3)
Region(s): Nepal, India, China
Eikllos (4.62) (+31): "Located mine in ███████ province.. bring extra lights/batteries, and soap- trust me comes in handy."
nosytromo11 (4.96) (+29): "Try the █████ monastery in ████████ . Can't go wrong. Go during rainy season and don't forget the soap _"
John3030 (3.99) (+28): "Found in ██████. Much easier to hit a shack but my client wanted a wild one."
[more…]
"Soap" was a term we used to avoid repeatedly typing out the phrase "sexual organs and panic." Soap usually indicated that a collector should bring a female "subject" along on the bounty. You likely know where I am going with this - so I will spare you the details. Just know that if there were a different way - I would still use soap. Every collector knows about soap, because it works - and I don't have to defend myself to you people.
My soap's name was Ramita, at least on this bounty.
Once Ramita was secured in my rental's trunk - I drove to an abandoned parking garage on the outskirts of town. From there - I proceeded to remove Ramita's eyes, and cut her Achilles tendons. I then used one of my favored tools to keep her mouth shut… just for the duration of the drive.
A few hours later, Ramita was high on the tabs I forced down her throat. To be honest, things really could have been worse for her. Her incoherent mumbling soon became incoherent screaming. Being my first time - it was memorable, although at points I wondered if I had given her too much.
It didn't take long for me to settle in, mere minutes. I perched myself on a rock ledge amidst the screaming, overlooking the small cavern Ramita was in. Dragging her down here was a huge pain in the ass, but the drips and drag marks of Ramita's blood didn't hurt my chances. I watched the oil lantern I left near her - flickering off of the damp rock walls.
I took a deep breath, steadied my rifle, and split the wick of the lamp in half, with a barely audible "whiff."
Swiftly, I loaded another dart, and waited. 3301 would arrive any moment.
Ramita was doing a wonderful job… and so was I.
