Gun of Ashes

Chapter 321: Chapter 13: Returning Home

”So fast...”

Lorenzo strolled through the streets of Old Dunling. He had only been away for a few days, yet the city’s appearance had changed drastically. Various lanterns and candlelights lit up the streets, decorations stretched up to the streetlights, and cheerful songs and children’s laughter echoed everywhere. For a moment, this cold city surprisingly held a rare warmth.

”What are you waiting for, Lorenzo?”

Red Falcon walked past Lorenzo, asking the lingering Lorenzo.

”Nothing... just feeling a bit sentimental, I’ve been in Old Dunling for seven years now.” Lorenzo said slowly, ”What about the others?”

Only Red Falcon was left beside him, the others seemed to have disappeared as soon as they got off the train.

”They all went home. Bluebird’s family are all devout followers, although I’ve never met any real Evangelical Church priests, their family places great importance on Divine Birthday, so he had to go home early.”

Red Falcon looked at Lorenzo while speaking. Bluebird used to respect Lorenzo greatly, after all, there weren’t many righteous priests like Lorenzo left. But later, Lorenzo’s misdeeds showed him that there was a lot of pretense in the priest profession.

”Joey’s home is quite far away; he should be on his way back. I don’t know much about Blue Jade; I only know she lives alone.”

Lorenzo’s expression was peculiar.

”Wait, is there anything wrong with me caring about colleagues?”

”That’s detailed enough to be checking household registrations!”

The two went on teasing each other, but soon calmed down. Standing on the street, Lorenzo asked.

”What about you, Red Falcon, where are you heading next?”

”Home, of course. What else?” Red Falcon thought Lorenzo’s question was baffling.

Lorenzo was dumbfounded for a moment. When Red Falcon spoke, he realized the crux of the question and chuckled.

”Previously, I struggled in the Lower City District. Fortunately, the Purification Mechanism assigned accommodations... just like an employee dormitory.”

”Sounds pitiful.”

”The living environment is better than yours, the room is bigger than yours.”

”Then nothing to worry about.”

The two chatted intermittently, neither leaving first, as if waiting for the bus.

Red Falcon casually scanned the street, observing a boy entering a shop and bringing a gift to a girl. The two embraced and vanished into the crowd.

”Jealous?” Lorenzo said untimely.

”Tsk.” Red Falcon clearly stated his stance.

But Lorenzo wasn’t going to stop, he looked at where they disappeared and continued talking.

”Isn’t it great?” he winked at Red Falcon.

”Sweet freedom, yet foolish. Our brains produce such peculiar chemicals just to ensure we miserable souls continue to multiply.”

Red Falcon rolled his eyes at him.

”Lorenzo, I’m different from you; I still yearn for sacred love. People like you are only fit to marry weapons; Arthur can officiate your wedding as you gleefully slaughter all the guests.”

”Why kill the guests?” No one could have expected this would be what Lorenzo fixated on.

”Who but demons would attend such a damned wedding!” Red Falcon yelped.

It’s a damned conversation and people.

After some time, Red Falcon bought a box of cigarettes from a shop on the street and casually tossed it to Lorenzo.

Lorenzo caught the box, somewhat surprised.

”You seem to be missing this. It might be different from what you make, but it should satisfy your craving.” Red Falcon said, ”Your habit of feeling for empty pockets is amusing; I bet with Joey whether you’d do it on the train.”

”The result?” Lorenzo asked.

”Joey paid for the cigarettes.” He replied.

After a brief silence, the two laughed together. Red Falcon had no intention of continuing to wait. He patted Lorenzo’s shoulder before heading straight into the crowd.

”Go back early, Lorenzo. Happy Divine Birthday.”

The voice faded away like the wind.

Red Falcon departed, but Lorenzo remained in place, realizing he had no lighter when he bit into a cigarette, so he packed it away, unsure of what to do.

Lorenzo felt at a loss, standing in a vast corner of the city, unclear of where he should go.

Indeed, everyone is flesh and blood, not just part of the backdrop. After work, they need to return home, even Lorenzo, after joyfully hacking demons, would crawl back to Cork Street and comfortably sleep on his own bed.

But whether it was coming back from the dead or for some other reason, emotion gradually overwhelmed reason, and he was becoming more human.

This was good, Lorenzo was still human. Even though Secret Blood had eroded him and Watson had possessed him, he remained human. Yet, at the same time, he became weaker; he’d feel cowardly, compassionate, and have numerous non-existent troubles.

With a long sigh, Lorenzo blended into the crowd, just like any ordinary person.

Sometimes people are like this; they forge their will like steel, but when they relax, they feel an endless void, as if they’ve lost direction in life.

Lorenzo was such a person. His life was filled with wrath, and when there were no demons to slay, he’d become a door-kicking detective to cut down people.

In short, Lorenzo Holmes cannot stop; he must keep doing something to feel alive.

Like a machine that’s prone to rust, once it stops, death quietly arrives.

Thinking of this, Lorenzo instead recalled Watson and Medanzo. Ever since he rose from the dead, Watson never reappeared. This haunting ghost seemed on holiday, vanishing without a trace, and Lorenzo couldn’t find her back.

Suddenly there was a haunting loneliness; a Demon Hunter cannot integrate into a normal life, nor does they have a normal life. This family-oriented holiday has nothing to do with them.

Even though he idly wished to chat with the Devil, the Devil didn’t bother.

Also, who knows, maybe the Devil has some peculiar company. They need to report performance during the holidays, checking how many unfortunate souls were earned this year.

Being a Devil doesn’t seem easy either!

Thinking this, Lorenzo chuckled. He often laughed out loud to himself, leaving others confused.

No way around it. After all, he was a Demon Hunter, hacking with bizarre demons every day; he had to find ways to amuse himself.

So Lorenzo eventually reached the end of the road. Cork Street 121A’s plaque was hung there, adorned with various cheap yet glamorous decorations that filled the entrance. From the light reflected through the glass, everything looked incredibly warm.

Not having returned home to sleep often, Lorenzo felt unfamiliar with them. He placed his hand on the handle, gently twisting it.

There’s nothing to it; he’s spent many such holidays, nothing’s different about this one, only that he’s changed somewhat.

A fake smile appeared as he anticipated Mrs. Van Rudd’s questioning, something he rehearsed many times on the way. Everything was under Lorenzo’s control.

Then he pushed open the door and stepped in. After a brief moment of astonishment, the detective cried out.

”My goodness!”