Chaser and the Chum: Splatoon 3

Remnant Chaser

Third - unless you need to check your water, snack on something, or need to take a breather, I suggest you keep moving. Trust me, I know it sounds stupid, but there are things in the desert you want to avoid at all costs. I'm a professional Remnant Chaser who refuses to call it anything else. By staying on the move, the sun won't sap your energy and leave you all dried up. It's important to stay active but also important to move carefully so you don't hurt yourself.

I've had my fair share of close calls. It's better to be cautious than careless. The scar across my left eye and on my tentacles can attest to that.

After I finished preparing, I headed out into the bright, sunny day. The streets were already littered with cephalopods this early in the morning. Most were going about their business, but some stopped to talk, asking about my plans. I told them the same thing I always do.

"I'm going out to see what I can find."

They all know what that means. I'm going remnant chasing.

I wave goodbye and head to the station. The sun was barely up and beating down on everyone and everything.

It was horrible, but listen, this was normal. Surviving in the Splatlands is hailed as a right of passage. Unless you can beat the sun and its harsh environment, you're gonna have a bad time. If you wanna rock with the city of chaos, you have to brave its storms.

I boarded the train to the outskirts. The only Chaser on board was me. I assume some are already active in the desert, which was both good and bad for me. On one hand, I have allies out in the field to help with any large creatures that may spring up, but on the opposite side, rivals are contending for the treasures. It's a first come first serve basis. The best thing to do is mark your findings with your ink. It's meant to deter people, but it's not a guaranteed method. Cephalopods have broken out in fights over small treasures.

Was it petty? Yes.

Did we care? Not really.

That's just how we did things. It's the Splatlands, baby!

~Chaser and the Chum~

The journey was uneventful, just a quiet ride that served to gather my thoughts, but I could feel something was off. The suction cups on my tentacles were tingling, and a cold chill ran down my nonexistent spine.

I couldn't put my finger on it. Then again, the vast desert is always playing tricks on the mind. It's easy to get lost in your thoughts out here.

"I have a bad feeling about this," I muttered to myself.

My stop came soon, and I was the only one to get off. Upon stepping on the desert grounds, I was immediately assaulted by a gust of wind. It was strong enough to knock me off my feet, and I had to brace myself against a nearby pillar to keep from being blown away.

'The guys didn't say anything about a sandstorm!'

I put my goggles on and steeled myself. Sandstorms are a rare occurrence. The hazard levels became a real high-risk and high-reward situation.

It did not deter me though. My plundering spirit wouldn't allow me to turn back and wait it out. As crazy as it was, that's just how we liked it.

Before I headed into the storm, I called up a friend while I had the signal.

"Hey, it's me. ... No, I'm not injured yet. I just got off the train and stepped up to a sandstorm. ... Of course I'm going in! Are you insane? ... I need you on standby. We might have something big here. ... Thanks, man. I'll see you on the other side."