Gun of Ashes

"Who is that?"

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about today." 042 seemed hesitant, unsure of how to start.

"I've been... chosen."

"Chosen?"

"Yes," he said, "They say I'm some sort of Qualified, and I will be assigned to another place."

"You mean to his place?" 047 gestured towards the old man, but 042 quickly stopped him. That man was an esteemed Cardinal, wielding power as a Cardinal, and any disrespect could be labeled as blasphemy, resulting in hanging. 042 had seen too many such cases.

"Who is he?"

"Lorenzo... Lorenzo de' Medici."

042 replied softly.

047's expression shifted slightly, though he had never met this person, he was too aware of his identity.

The Medici Clan, historically several Popes had emerged from this family, and now it is the largest financial aristocracy in the Holy Evangelical Pope Kingdom, involved in various industries besides banking, controlling vast wealth, serving various Popes, managing the financial flow of the Evangelical Church. Under the operations of this fearsome family, wealth snowballs, continuously lending to one small country after another, burning contracts, in exchange for land.

The old man before them was the most outstanding of the Medici through generations, Lorenzo de' Medici, during his youth, under his leadership, the Medici Clan's power reached its peak, at one time his power was even greater than the Pope's, becoming the true ruler of all Florence.

Yet even someone like him would grow old. He stood not far away, apart from the bright red robe, he looked no different than any ordinary elderly man.

"042!"

The priests called impatiently as they walked toward them.

"Seems like I have to go, 047."

Looking at his old friend, 042 spoke with some reluctance.

"As long as we're alive, we'll meet again, 042." 047 didn't seem too upset, knowing that going to that old man was better than staying here, "Though you know I hate this number."

His departing steps paused slightly as 042 turned back, the devout lamb finally grew restless, softly bidding farewell.

"Well then... Goodbye, Mr. Holmes, we will meet again.

...

Slowly opening his eyes, he was greeted not by any bizarre ceiling, but by broad strokes of sunlight shining through the large floor-to-ceiling window onto the man's face.

"Ah..."

Lorenzo let out a strange groan, then adjusted his position on the sofa, finding a more comfortable angle and snuggling back again.

Holding the blanket tightly, everything was warm and cozy.

But it seemed someone didn't want him to be comfortable and intentionally made loud noise, though it still couldn't wake Lorenzo, making the person a bit intolerant, coming forward and yanking the blanket off, shouting in the process.

"Stop lying down! Lorenzo! You'll rot away if you keep lying there!"

Red Falcon screeched, and as he yanked Lorenzo up, they both screeched like two crowing roosters.

Lorenzo was thrown onto the ground, lying completely flat on the carpet, apparently still tormented by sleepiness, his eyes bleary.

However, Red Falcon seemed unable to tolerate this guy anymore, forcibly dragging him up, but regardless of how much strength Red Falcon used, the great detective's stubborn demeanor remained unmoved, unaffected by any weapon or tool.

Eventually, Red Falcon ended up sweaty and plopped down on the sofa where Lorenzo had been nesting, staring resentfully at Lorenzo wriggling on the floor like a plump caterpillar.

His whole body felt as if undergoing some interrogation, Red Falcon's face twisted grimly.

How many days had it been? Even Red Falcon couldn't quite remember; he had witnessed Lorenzo deteriorating from an imposing Demon Hunter into a societal wastrel. He wanted this about-to-rot fellow to get moving, but... he couldn't even beat this societal scum.

The sound of footsteps echoed softly, devout believers murmured prayers, though subtle, it buzzed inside Red Falcon's head.

"Bluebird, stop chanting! Help get him moving!"

Red Falcon shouted, somewhat frantically.

But Bluebird clearly didn't want to pay attention, glancing at Red Falcon and then at Lorenzo on the floor, he continued his peculiar prayers and disappeared into the staircase.

"Then Joey! You help! If he keeps sleeping like this, Lorenzo will truly become a total wreck!"

Red Falcon screamed, but just like Bluebird, Joey who was passing by clearly didn't want to deal with this, looking with disgust at Lorenzo's slobber-covered face, he resolutely shook his head.

"You know I'm a bit of a germaphobe."

"So what! Didn't see you feel disgusted when slaying demons! Or do you think Lorenzo is more disgusting than a demon!"

Red Falcon was driven to madness.

As if some strange corrosion, influenced by Lorenzo, Red Falcon began fluctuating towards some bizarre direction, while Lorenzo himself was indifferent, as if engaging in some strange human observation, tormenting Red Falcon these days brought him much joy.

Yet now there's nothing left to amuse him from Red Falcon, like a child who lost his toy; the great detective felt somewhat melancholic.

Perhaps he had slept enough, propping up his hand, supporting his head as he gazed at the snowy scene outside the floor-to-ceiling window, reaching with his other hand to grab randomly, finally pulling down a plate of snacks from the low table and eating casually.

Ignoring Red Falcon's lament behind him, as if seeing through worldly matters, he sighed leisurely.

"Life is wonderful..."

Having lived for so many years, having slain countless demons, Lorenzo Holmes seemed to surrender to his mission and praise the goodness of life.

As if having traversed some fascinating parallel world, here there were no demons, no cursed church, these unfortunates were roommates living under the same roof, warming themselves in the cold winter, bantering.

This is madness.

Even Lorenzo couldn't quite believe such a life really existed and came upon him, though unfortunately his housemates are all burly men, he wished he had some female roommates.

But perhaps thinking of some peculiar things, a sting from his mind made him even more alert, seemingly unable to sleep anymore, thus the nap ended here, Lorenzo staggered up, then walked over to the large floor-to-ceiling window.

Gazing at the dusk's afterglow, the whole world was draped in a red curtain, eerily familiar, as if Lorenzo had seen it all once before.

Suddenly, strange images flickered in his mind, it seemed to be a farewell, a long-forgotten goodbye, a voice emerged from the depths of memory, whispering.

"Goodbye... Mr. Holmes, we will meet again."

A strange sting, Lorenzo couldn't help but clutch his forehead.

These bizarre occurrences were happening more frequently, ever since he killed Lawrence, he kept dreaming of these strange things, a boy said goodbye to him, and said they would meet again.

Lorenzo could no longer distinguish if this was a dream or chaotic memory. Sometimes upon careful reflection, he realized his past was like shattered glass, difficult to piece together.

Normally, he wouldn't care about these things, being a monster battling demons, constantly subjected to corrosive pollution, having some mental issues would be normal, but this time it's different.

Lorenzo had a strange premonition, as if some prophecy was about to be fulfilled, he didn't remember the boy's name under that red curtain, nor why they had to meet again.

Yet now that eerie feeling intensified with time, as if he was coming, to reunite with him... from the depths of memory.

As if some terrifying thing was about to be realized.

"We will meet again..."

Lorenzo murmured softly, like talking in his sleep.