The "guy" behind Old Bill died with his eyes wide open.
He clearly couldn't believe that even after taking a hostage, Goethe would still order to open fire, completely disregarding the hostage's safety.
Regret, remorse, and resentment.
These emotions began to surface in his eyes.
He regretted his momentary greed, which led him to sneak into 32 Durian Street.
He was remorseful for his continued greed, choosing to conspire with a tiger.
He was resentful that, despite his bright future, he died just like that.
But even in death...
"You'll join me in hell!"
The hostage-taker, riddled with a dozen bullets, looked at the candle-lit room across the street and used the last of his strength to shout.
Unfortunately, his internal organs churned, and blood clogged his throat, stifling his voice until he could only utter a couple of guttural sounds before expiring completely.
Swart pulled back the curtains on the second floor and stood at the window, looking at the two bodies lying on the street. He waved his hand grandly.
"Surround them!"
The sheriff shouted pompously.
"Another victory without casualties!"
"The great Sheriff Swart is getting closer and closer to the commissioner's chair!"
In his heart, the sheriff was even more pleased with himself.
He was so eager that he couldn't help but imagine the scene when the time came.
A smile unconsciously appeared on the sheriff's face.
However, the next moment, Goethe pinned him to the floor.
At the same time—
Bang! Bang! Bang!
A series of gunshots rang out.
The room where Goethe and Swart were was riddled with bullets.
The police officers on the street were momentarily stunned, then they raised their guns and returned fire at the sudden assailant.
Unfortunately, they didn't hit their target.
The assailant was clever, immediately changing positions after firing.
Taking advantage of the night's cover, the assailant began to retreat.
After all, they were here just "in case"!
Now...
Whoosh!
A slender, dagger-like throwing knife suddenly shot out from the shadows. The assailant, who was running, performed a nimble front flip, landed on a nearby wall, and with a few quick steps, not only dodged the unexpected knife but also put considerable distance between themselves and Mrs. Pence, who had thrown it.
Stepping out of the shadows, Mrs. Pence frowned slightly as she watched the assailant stand on the rooftop.
An 'Extraordinary'!
When Goethe first invited her, Mrs. Pence had some doubts, but now they were gone.
The other person was undoubtedly an extraordinary individual like her.
And...
Their abilities were unknown!
Although the assailant had demonstrated agile skills, they hadn't revealed any supernatural abilities.
This made Mrs. Pence extremely cautious!
Extraordinaries were terrifying.
Unknown Extraordinaries were the most terrifying.
This simple saying was a well-known adage among Extraordinaries and something they remembered well.
Mrs. Pence stared directly at the assailant, keeping three knives close for protection while silently directing two more towards the assailant. The already-revealed knife flew openly towards them.
"Your knives are famous in Lust."
"I don't want to experience them firsthand."
"And…"
"Can you guess why I'm here?"
The assailant's hoarse voice concealed their true tone.
They smashed a sealed vial on the ground.
Bang!
With the sound of shattering glass, a large cloud of smoke enveloped the area, completely obscuring Mrs. Pence's vision.
Mrs. Pence's knives were powerful.
Every Extraordinary in Lust knew that.
But they also knew how to counter them.
Unknown Extraordinaries are the most terrifying!
This saying never fails.
When an Extraordinary loses their "mystique," no matter how powerful, weaknesses appear.
Mrs. Pence frowned but didn't give chase.
Not because she was recognized and had lost her advantage.
But because of the assailant's last words.
Mrs. Pence turned and headed towards 'Old Bill's Clock Shop.'
"There really was another assailant!"
Swart, shaking glass shards from his head, looked terrified, completely losing his previous pompous demeanor.
Although Goethe's attitude had already suggested that something was wrong with this situation, facing it for real still unnerved the sheriff, and a slight wetness in his trousers confirmed his fear.
But that wasn't the most critical thing!
The critical thing was that a shadow appeared on the windowsill.
With the shattered window, the night wind howled in, extinguishing the candle long ago. The shadow's clothes flapped in the breeze.
The backlight of the moon obscured the figure's face, but the crimson glow in their eyes was unmistakably clear as they crouched on the windowsill.
"The monster from this morning!"
Swart's heart sank, and he felt a sudden wave of dread, causing him to wet himself.
The "monster" they encountered this morning was still fresh in his mind. After all, it was the one that had taken dozens of bullets without dying.
He had originally thought there was only one of them.
But now, here was another.
Am I done for? Swart thought, his mind filled with despair.
However, to his relief, the monster only glanced at him before turning its attention to Gawain, who stood beside him, gun in hand.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Gawain pulled the trigger.
Muzzle flashes lit up the room, and the smell of gunpowder filled the air.
Swart scrambled to hide behind Gawain, only daring to peek out after a moment.
What he saw nearly made him cry.
The monster with crimson eyes was still crouched on the windowsill, unmoved despite taking twelve bullets. Not even a hint of weakness showed; the creature's body merely swayed slightly.
"Stronger than the monster from this morning!"
Swart wailed internally.
If Swart could tell, so could Gawain.
After emptying the twelve bullets from both revolvers, the crimson-eyed monster finally moved.
It leaped down from the windowsill into the room.
Bang!
The impact shook the floor, and the monster slowly straightened up.
Only now did Gawain realize just how massive and muscular the creature was. Its head nearly touched the ceiling, and its forearms were as thick as an average person's thighs.
Standing there, it resembled a bear on its hind legs, and though blood oozed from the twelve gunshot wounds, it showed no signs of weakness.
On the contrary, it seemed even more imposing.
The same murderous aura from that morning filled the room.
"Is that all?"
"Got more?" The creature looked down at Gawain, baring its teeth in a ghastly grin.
Swart, who had just started to stand, let out a terrified yelp and collapsed again. But this time, he managed to shove his gun into Gawain's hand.
Swart knew he was a coward.
At this moment, he couldn't even hold his gun steady.
But he also knew that he and Gawain were in this together; neither of them could escape.
If Gawain died, so would he.
More likely, if Gawain survived, Swart might still die.
So, he had to increase Gawain's chances.
Even though he was scared to death, Swart still pushed his revolver into Gawain's hand—it was all he could do.
"You're asking for it!"
The massive attacker roared and swung its arm toward Gawain.
Gawain kicked Swart aside while dodging to the side, firing the revolver in his hand.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Six more bullets.
The creature staggered again, and its reaching hand slowed. But as soon as Gawain's revolver was empty, it lunged forward once more. Gawain quickly evaded, knowing that the size and strength difference meant he had no chance in a direct confrontation.
Relying on his agility was the best choice in this situation!
With his expert hand-to-hand combat skills, Gawain instantly found a way to deal with the threat!
The creature's fist smashed into the wall behind Gawain.
Bang!
The wooden wall splintered, leaving a massive dent as if struck by a sledgehammer. The creature growled and pulled its hand free, swinging again at Gawain.
Bang, bang, bang!
A series of heavy thuds followed as wood chips flew through the room.
Gawain dodged repeatedly, eventually throwing Swart's revolver at the creature.
Smack!
The creature didn't bother dodging, and the revolver harmlessly bounced off its face. The lack of damage only served to infuriate it further. It pressed its advantage, driving Gawain into a corner.
Seeing Gawain cornered, the creature grinned, thinking Gawain was out of options and merely resisting in vain. It sneered.
"Hmph, you know you can't—"
"Aaargh! My eyes!"
But before it could finish, a handful of gray-white powder was flung into its face.
The sneer abruptly turned into a scream of agony.
As the creature opened its mouth to wail, Gawain, who had been waiting for this moment, drew his knife and plunged it straight into the creature's mouth.
(End of Chapter)