The moment he took down Vincent, Ruboo knew instinctively that his opponent wasn't alone. He extinguished the flames at once, swiftly pulling Zoe and Madison along as they dashed towards the direction Quini had departed, using the darkness as cover.
One couldn't possibly leave the other alone in such a perilous place.
Behind them, a group no longer hiding advanced with torches aloft and guns drawn, pursuing them with fervent cries of slogans.
"Bloody rotten luck, stumbling straight into the cult's stronghold."
Ruboo glanced back and spotted the bald-headed petrol station owner, Old John, among them. "Bloody rotten luck," he muttered, his voice thick with foreboding.
Though he had long heard that on this land of liberty, breathing the air of freedom, cults of every stripe abounded.
Yet in his original conception, these groups were akin to China's pyramid schemes preying on elderly folk, or perhaps resembled the financial fraud cults proliferating across South Korea.
Little did he expect that America would be America.
Even its cults exuded an extraordinary wildness.
Judging by their demeanour, they clearly intended to sacrifice him and the others.
Madison, however, remained remarkably composed.
Perhaps it was having seen so many bizarre cults in Hollywood.
After all, those Hollywood stars—uneducated, gullible, moneyed, depraved, and hollow—were prime targets for deception.
She even found the energy to tease Zoe: "Zoe, now is the moment of your awakening. Ruboo needs your protection."
Zoe genuinely took it to heart, looking as though she was itching to get started.
Unexpectedly, his cheap girlfriend proved so bold that Ruboo hastily pinned her down, then shot Madison a fierce glare. "Looking for trouble? Facing dozens of guns, you think you're invincible?"
Even the mightiest witch remains mortal flesh; a single bullet would send her crashing to the ground.
Otherwise, witches would have long since ruled the world instead of hiding in fear of discovery.
However formidable Madison might be at present, she couldn't possibly take out dozens of people at once.
Not yet grown to the stature of a superhuman, Ruboo could not manage it either.
Naturally, retreat was the first order of business.
Once they located Quini, created some distance, and allowed the group to scatter, they could always return to deal a crushing blow.
Ruboo wasn't thinking of running away.
He'd spent over twenty thousand dollars on a car he'd barely driven for a few days, and now it was just sitting here.
...
The moon hung high in the night sky, its radiance bathing the earth and draping the vegetation in a layer of luminous moonlight, a truly beautiful sight.
Alas, none were left to appreciate it.
A hunt, as old as humanity itself, was underway in the dense forest.
Guided by the moonlight, Collinsburg cultists wielding torches pursued Ruboo's group relentlessly under the leadership of the bald-headed boss.
Jonah, the bald-headed leader, was actually rather frustrated.
His original plan had been to pick them off one by one without harming the sacrificial offering – first securing Quini, then dealing with the two women at the camp.
Yet not only did things go awry with Quini, whom they'd secured first, but Ruboo's group proved so alert they fled ahead of schedule, even going so far as to shoot Vincent dead outright.
Were these people really students?
Jonah was perplexed.
Yet the divine revelation he'd received made it clear: the deity's craving for these three women far surpassed any previous offering.
Jonah, whose face contorted into a savage grimace, bellowed:
"Speed up! Speed up! Blood is blood!"
Blood is blood!
The cultists seemed to have been injected with stimulants, accelerating their pace.
Seeing Ruboo and his companions' figures receding into the distance, Jonah called out with a grin: "Gentlemen, the night is unsafe. No more running! Come back—we'll give you a warm welcome!"
Ruboo showed no interest in responding.
Madison, however, turned back with a cold sneer. "Hospitality? To become offerings to that hideous, perverted abomination?"
Jonah's face darkened with fury. "He is the Great Lord of the Swamp, the incarnation of the divine in this world, the greatest miracle! To be chosen as a sacrifice, to bear His noble bloodline, is your supreme honour!"
Madison gasped in astonishment. "Crocodile people can do that? Truly the greatest discovery of the century!"
Zoe looked utterly disgusted. She'd thought these people intended to sacrifice her and the others in a blood ritual, but the true purpose turned out to be this.
Ruboo was equally speechless, never imagining the cult they'd encountered would be such a peculiar lot.
"Hold on tight!"
Ruboo expended 10 containment points, boosting his physique to level 1.6.
With his strength further enhanced, he simply hoisted the slower Zoe and Madison onto his back and charged forward at an accelerated pace.
Her feet off the ground, long hair whipping wildly in the gusts, Zoe gasped, "Ruboo, how did you get so strong?"
"He's bloody brilliant, isn't he!" Madison exclaimed, thrilled she didn't have to run herself. "His physique is visibly getting stronger by the day. Mind you, Ruboo, were your ancestors Behemoths? Is this some kind of awakened bloodline power?"
Ruboo rolled his eyes. "There are no Behemoths in China."
Madison pressed on, her interest piqued: "Then what could it be?"
"Dragons!"
...
Unaware that the prey ahead even had time for idle chatter, Jonah grew increasingly anxious as he watched Ruboo, single-handedly taking on two opponents, accelerate at a pace that seemed almost drug-fuelled.
If he was this frantic, what about the followers?
With the prey nearly out of sight, their heightened emotions caused them to disregard the order not to fire. The crackling of long and short guns soon echoed incessantly through the dense forest.
Yet for all the noise, the effect was negligible.
The darkness ahead, thick foliage, and Ruboo's rapid movement made accurate long-range shots improbable.
At such range, hitting anything accurately would have been unreasonable.
The prize was slipping from view, vanishing from sight.
Suddenly!
A massive black silhouette, trailing a thick tail, flashed past them, pursuing Ruboo and his companions at breakneck speed.
Witnessing this spectacle, as if beholding the Lord's descent to earth, all the cultists—Jonah included—burst into a fervent, almost religious chant of an obscure and eerie "hymn":
"Walk with the gods."
"We save her soul."
"Control her head and hands."
"This is her glory."
"We shall bring her rebirth."
"We shall embrace a better life."
"We are still alive."
"It has always been His will."
"Great Lord!"
"We shall control her torso, head, and limbs."
"How glorious we are!"
"We shall bring life unto Him!"
"We shall forever obey His will!"
"..."
Up ahead.
The cultists were making such a racket that Ruboo and his companions naturally heard them.
"What on earth are they wailing about?" Madison asked, puzzled.
"Sounds like... a prayer to the Dark God," Zoe ventured uncertainly, having attended church before.
Ruboo was about to speak.
Suddenly!
His expression darkened.
"Watch out!"