Then he started to laugh—high-pitched, broken laughter that echoed through the ruined street. "I knew it! I knew something was wrong with you, but this?! My god. I've truly seen it all now. This whole kingdom's going to hell, and the demons are running around in broad daylight! "
He started pacing, scratching at his scalp like he could claw the truth out of his own skull. "The Dread Hunter was right… he was actually telling the truth…"
Jackie eyed him from across the way, her voice cutting sharp.
"You've finally lost it, haven't you?" she muttered, her words edged with pity and disdain.
Pulling his gun from its holster, he leveled it at Jackie's head.
"Quite the opposite, Ms. O'Hara," Fortier said with a twisted smile. "I see everything clearly now. And you—" he looked her up and down "—you look exhausted. Worn down. I bet even a human like me could kill a demon in that state."
He took a step closer.
"After all, I was top of my class at the academy. Imagine the story I could tell… how I saved this side of Auclair from the Dread Hunters. They might just hand me the keys to the parish."
Jackie raised her revolver—
—but Fortier was faster. He fired a shot, knocking it clean from her grip.
"Don't move!" he snapped.
Then he casually flicked open the cylinder of his revolver, checking the rounds. "Besides, I counted six shots. You're out, aren't you?"
Damn it, he's right, Jackie thought, teeth gritted. Might've been overkill using that many on Goliath. There's no time for mercy when enemies are still lurking, she eye'd Fortier, even if the one lurking is minuscule.
Her body ached. The pain from the glass shard earlier was flaring again, the impact from being launched through the storefront finally catching up with her.
I reinforced myself before I hit… but it's been a while since I've been hit that hard.
"Ms. Jackie O'Hara," Fortier continued, pacing in front of her like a man rehearsing his speech to a crowd. "Daughter of the legendary Jack O'Hara. With a name like that? Oh, this won't just be local. This'll be international."
His eyes widened like a child stumbling into a dream.
"They might even grant me land."
And then, as if struck by inspiration, he hurried toward her, his voice turning giddy.
"Oh! And to really sell the image of a sole survivor… I should be bloodier."
He pressed the barrel of the gun to her forehead.
"How about a close-up for the feature?"
Dang it! I'm actually envying the Dread Hunters right now. A normal bullet could easily be the end of me. Jackie's thoughts raced frantically. I've gotta try something.
Fear gnawed at her, but Jackie's face remained stern, refusing to betray a single hint of weakness to Fortier. She locked her eyes on his—focused, resolute.
Just as Fortier's finger began to tighten on the trigger, a sudden strike across his face threw him off balance. In the same instant, his legs were hauled from under him, and he was slammed onto the ground.
Jackie's heart skipped a beat as she turned to see who had intervened. A blue dot revealed itself in the same place Fortier's gun had been pressed against her forehead. She had concentrated every ounce of her remaining power into a single point, the size of the bullet, praying that her gamble would be enough to stop it at point-blank range.
"Is that… Newbie?" she whispered, her legs trembling as the adrenaline started to ebb.
"You murderer!" Newbie screamed, his voice a raw cry of rage. "You killed them! You're the reason they're dead! Your own men!"
Jackie's breath hitched as Newbie began pummeling Fortier's face, the back of his head knocking into the ground with each blow. She watched, frozen for a moment, as each hit reverberated with the weight of betrayal. "How could you?!" he yelled between blows.
After a beat, Jackie stepped forward, placing a hand firmly on Newbie's shoulder, stopping him just as his fist swung back for another strike. "Hey," she said softly, but firmly, halting him with a quiet intensity. "He's unconscious. You're just hurting yourself now."
Newbie looked down at his hands, staring in disbelief as blood dripped from his knuckles. He'd hit Fortier so many times that the skin on his hands became peeled and raw. There was even a deep cut from one of the teeth he'd knocked loose. The rage hadn't just hurt Fortier; it had torn something in Newbie, too.
Jackie could see it—the frustration, the anger, the ache of not knowing how to cope with it all. She offered him a choice, quiet but clear. "Alive, he can answer for his crimes. But if you kill him now, he gets off the easy way."
Newbie stared at Fortier as though he were nothing more than prey, his body trembling with the weight of his decision. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he spat on Fortier's swollen, bloodied face. Standing up, he asked, "He'll be sent to Purgatory for this, won't he?"
Jackie nodded. "I'll make sure of it."
"Good," Newbie muttered, his voice laced with quiet satisfaction, before he turned and began walking away.
Jackie watched him go for a moment before calling out to him. "Hey, Newbie… What's your name? Your full name."
"John. John Newbie," he replied, his back still turned, his voice almost distant.
Jackie frowned, a confused thought crossing her mind. Wait. People called him Newbie because it was his name and not just because he was the new guy? Hm.
Jackie's gaze flicked over Fortier's battered form before she muttered, almost to herself, "I knew something was off about you, but I never would've guessed it was this bad." She let out a sigh, rubbing her temples. "Taking it easy sucks. Being rusty sucks. This whole situation sucks."