Gun of Ashes

Watson let out a soft chuckle, then dissolved into the air like ink. Lorenzo stared at the spot where he disappeared, hesitated for a moment before showing a familiar smile to Mrs. Van Rudd, and then walked into the door.

Human emotions are always disjointed, even his own. He didn't want to show that angry expression to Mrs. Van Rudd.

Walking into the warm house, Lorenzo found that the living room had greatly changed. The fire in the fireplace blazed vigorously, and many decorations stored in the cabinet had been taken out and hung in various places, giving the place a cozy family atmosphere, as if a festival was approaching.

Lorenzo looked at these and said somewhat helplessly.

"Mrs. Van Rudd, it's just the start of winter in Old Dunling. There's still quite some time until Divine Birthday; there's no need to decorate so early, is there?"

Divine Birthday is a holiday of the Evangelical Church. According to the records in the "Gospel", that elusive God appeared in the mortal world on this day, so people documented all this and marked this day as the celebratory Divine Birthday.

A few hundred years ago, this festival was merely a traditional holiday of the Holy Evangelical Pope Kingdom. But as the Evangelical Church's influence rose and belief invaded other nations, this holiday spread to other countries along with the believers.

Thus, this festival is celebrated in many countries, and some people who aren't even believers just want an excuse to celebrate something. Sometimes, Lorenzo thinks Mrs. Van Rudd is just that kind of person.

She has always had a passion for Divine Birthday. It is only during this time of year that Mrs. Van Rudd becomes surprisingly amiable, occasionally even making free breakfast for Lorenzo. At those times, Lorenzo felt truly pampered; the feeling was akin to a doctor happily telling you they've named a new disease after you.

Lorenzo nervously finished the meal, fearful that just after wiping his mouth, the old lady would point a gun at his head and demand he pack up and leave within five minutes.

"Who do you think you are to question me? Don't want to live here anymore, is that it?"

Mrs. Van Rudd side-eyed Lorenzo, making him shut his mouth.

Looking at the time, there were still a few hours until dawn. Lorenzo hadn't expected to lose so much time in the Broken Dome; he initially thought it would be daylight by the time he emerged.

However, turning to Mrs. Van Rudd, Lorenzo was somewhat puzzled. Had this old lady not slept at all during the night, or had she just woken up?

But it didn't really matter; Lorenzo stopped thinking about it, climbed the stairs, and decided to get a good night's sleep before hunting demons. After all, as an experienced Hunter, pre-hunt preparation is essential.

On the second floor, Hig's room door was slightly ajar, but there was no one inside. Lorenzo seemed to have figured out why Mrs. Van Rudd was still awake; she was probably waiting for Hig to return.

Hig was the first tenant of 121A, and Lorenzo was a later occupant. From their conversations, it seemed Hig had lived there since he was young. Mrs. Van Rudd was more of a stepmother to him, a sharp-tongued but soft-hearted one.

Lorenzo's interactions with Hig were limited. Because of the demons, to ordinary people, Lorenzo was like a plague; prolonged contact with him often led to some demon-related incidents.

He didn't want others to suffer misfortune because of him. Lorenzo had lived rather lonely in Old Dunling for the past six years, with no real friends.

Lying on the somewhat chilly bed, Lorenzo gazed at the ceiling plastered with seaside posters and flyers. In the deep quiet of the night, he would ponder these thoughts, but he could always convince himself.

The road to the goal is fragile ice. Lorenzo knew he had to abandon some things to keep moving forward, and he had no regrets.

He closed his eyes heavily, awaiting the arrival of a new day.

...

In this silent night, some people slept, while others wailed.

A man raced down the narrow alleyway, face twisted in fear, his whole body exuding the scent of terror.

This shouldn't be happening; what on earth was going on?

As he ran for his life, he asked himself. As a gang member of Lower City District, Hughes had done quite alright. He made his start with smuggling; though not large in scale, he managed to carve out a bit of a reputation in that chaotic area. But clearly, this man from Reindona Port wasn't satisfied with just that.

Previously, Lower City District had suffered an attack from Suyalan Hall. The gang entitled Green Shark was the target, and it's said that its mysterious owner, Sabo, died that night. Everyone in Lower City District was terrified, as if Old Dunling truly intended to take action against them.

People scrambled to move their wealth, trying to mitigate impending losses. But Hughes didn't do that. He naturally bore a ruthless and reckless demeanor.

At that critical moment, he didn't back down but instead annexed Green Shark's businesses, further expanding his own during the chaos. It was apparent he made the right gamble; the anticipated purge from Old Dunling never came, and he emerged victorious with everything.

That boy who wrestled on fishing boats finally became a man wielding power, but now that damned power couldn't save him.

After all, whether it was blades or authority, these were concepts created for human contexts. To the monster lurking in the darkness, these were all insignificant.

All he could hear were the low growls of the monster, which didn't seem to be in a hurry to kill him, much like a Hunter toying with its prey.

Usually, Hughes wouldn't tolerate such things; even if it meant dying, he would fight back desperately. But that was only true when facing people; now, he didn't even have the courage to confront the monster.

His guards didn't last even a minute against the monster before being torn into pulp, and during that time, he fired several shots at the beast. Even in the dim light, Hughes was certain he hit it in the head several times, but it didn't even manage to wound the creature.

Suddenly, the sound of whistling wind reached his ears, and Hughes' mind went blank. But immediately, he felt an uncontrollable pain, and he started howling in agony.

He collapsed at the grimy end of the alley, blood staining the sewage. From his torso downwards, it was a clean slice, and his severed limbs were long gone.

It seemed like a survival instinct kicked in, and Hughes clawed at the ground, crawling desperately, leaving a trail of blood behind him.

But soon sharp claws pierced his thigh, pinning him firmly to the ground. He let out a feeble wail, as the fate of death was now unavoidable.

The monster didn't seem eager to end him, as if it were a merciless execution, only wishing for Hughes to endure enough pain before dying.

"So, you do feel pain..."

The monster uttered a garbled voice, which, to Hughes, sounded chillingly familiar. The howling of pain ceased, and his face turned blank, seemingly realizing who the owner of that voice was.

"This... this can't be..."

He repeated, then his head was lifted by a distorted hand. With the faint light, he saw a face covered in scars and malice.

"How... could it be you?"

Hughes couldn't believe what he was seeing, even afraid to move his gaze away, to glimpse the rest of the horrific visage.

"No, no, this has nothing to do with me. It was him who made me do it. You know, although I'm a gang leader, I too need those nobles to provide protection!"

But the monster seemed indifferent to all this, its voice hoarse with grievance.

"This is the price you must pay, Hughes."

With that, the claws gently sliced off a small piece of flesh, and Hughes let out a scream of unbearable agony. Though shrill, in the monster's ears, it was a melody as sweet as a fine song.

"But don't be sad; I will kill all involved participants. Everyone will face a fair end."

In the painful slaughter, the monster spoke thus.

The night was still long, and it had plenty of time to render Hughes' suffering perfect.