Gun of Ashes

Yes, hallucination…

Thinking this, the man stopped all his actions, even the pain in his stomach seemed to vanish. He looked at his raised hand and suddenly understood why his handwriting was so scrawled, and as a reporter, how he managed not to hold onto his camera.

His nails turned grayish-white, like some kind of hardened substance, extending several centimeters in length, resembling sharp claws. The back of his hand also showed various abnormalities, with blood vessels becoming enlarged, prominently protruding on the skin, and bones slowly twisting, as if something were about to break through the flesh.

What… is happening?

The man couldn’t understand, he wanted to say something, but found he couldn’t utter a single word, only hoarse sounds, like a howling wind, emerged from his throat.

A flash of light passed by.

The soldier swung the sword, severing the demon’s head, then pierced its heart with another strike.

They remained silent, not even glancing at the corpse, kicking it into the darkness below, along with its notebook, completely consumed by the dark.

In the heights of the furnace, someone was observing all of this, draped in a white robe, crowned with a silver tiara, his face completely hidden beneath a steel cold mask.

In the visage etched by the mask, his eyes were deeply sunken into darkness, with two flickering, ghostly white fires residing in the deepest recesses.

He had stood atop the furnace for a long time, while Liya waited in the nearby gloom. After an indeterminate period, the ghostly fire extinguished, and he slowly straightened and stretched his body.

“They killed Roger Cruz, and also Adren Levien.”

Lawrence said.

“As expected?” Liya asked.

“More or less,” Lawrence replied, with a hint of laughter in his voice, “It seems our plan doesn’t require any changes.”

His voice carried the chill of cold rain, as if Lawrence wasn’t really there, but truly positioned amidst that storm.

Hidden beneath the storm, the assassins included not only Watson but also another vicious predator.

“It’s already somewhat out of control, the massive production of Secret Blood is causing the corrosion to spread.”

Liya glanced at the furnace, referred to by the Plague Doctor as a “Blood Steam Engine,” and then at the demon corpse being handled by the soldiers.

Lately, this kind of occurrence was frequent; a group influenced by corruption, bewitched, approached here, then transformed into bloodthirsty, crazed demons.

“It’s okay, it’ll stop soon,” Lawrence said casually, “Our legion is ready, right?”

“Yes.”

Hearing Liya’s confirmation, Lawrence’s words carried more laughter.

“Then take what’s left of the Secret Blood and destroy this place.”

“Destroy?” Upon hearing this, Liya seemed surprised.

“What’s wrong?”

“But…”

Lawrence seemed to understand her concerns and continued.

“We are about to fight that destined war. If we win, it will no longer be necessary, but if we lose, even if it still exists, what significance does it hold?”

Lawrence clutched the railing with both hands, with such strength that the metal emitted a wailing sound, compressed and shriveled.

“Destroy them all, after all, I’m fighting an extraordinary war.”

His aged voice carried the rolling flames, merely listening caused a burning sting as if scorched by fire.

“A war to eradicate all demons.”