Chapter 66
Since the afternoon, Alfred had been thinking it through carefully; if tonight he was certain he would find clues regarding the whereabouts of those suspected to be roaming around the factory.
Earlier that morning, he had sent two of his guards to sweep the place, and as he had expected, their effort was in vain; they found not even the slightest trace, as if the person they were looking for was like a "cockroach."
Realizing that, Alfred acted recklessly and chose to bring along Mr. Wayne, who, as the head of the Havertson family, possessed combat experience as well as expertise in handling his long-barreled rifle.
Moreover, Alfred was aware and knew that he was no ordinary man, a Receiver of The Coffin, at its first rank, Butcher.
Although the war 500 years ago had connections to the nobility, in truth, Receivers were very rarely known among common people, including the nobles. Only a handful of individuals were aware of them and chose to observe before deciding to control them or perhaps had other intentions behind it all?
A few meters after the two of them left the field area, and after parting ways with those who would patrol the southern part of Tezny on Senggong Street No. 5.
Alfred immediately inserted bullets one by one into the cylinder of his two revolvers slowly, yet steadily.
The cylinder closed. Full. A sign that they were ready to be used.
As he slipped both revolvers into the leather holsters on both sides beneath his waist, he finally spoke to break the silence as they walked toward the cracked ground ahead.
"My apologies if you are following my selfish orders." His expression remained flat as he focused his gaze on the road beneath his steps.
Mr. Wayne pressed his cap down with his left hand before answering in his deep voice:
"Don't think too much of it. Just consider it a warm-up for my body." He touched his neck as a sign for Alfred not to dwell on it further.
Alfred let out a soft sigh.
'I didn't expect the ruler of part of Chapena to be willing to do something like this.' he thought, both surprised and impressed by a noble like him.
After walking for quite some time and conversing to dispel the strange pressure weighing on their shoulders, they finally arrived at the border between Vathaik Street No. 7 and Similar Street No. 8.
An intersection that could hardly be called a road anymore. The stony path rose upward from where they stood, and the foul, burnt stench hanging in the air would make anyone who lingered there for too long vomit instantly.
Even so, they decided to investigate the area, rumored to be the initial point of the demon horse's appearance and attack, which spread through the subsequent streets all the way to Ahiston Street No. 12, despite that area being half-destroyed.
"There really are still remnants of bones, whether from humans or other creatures, as small as fingernails." Alfred nearly stepped on one with the tip of his shoe.
Meanwhile, Mr. Wayne paced back and forth, ignoring Alfred's remark as if searching for something amid the chaotic state of the road.
"Something's off," Wayne muttered doubtfully while touching the grip of his rifle.
'There's an aura of someone's presence behind that building over there,' he added in his mind.
Without asking further, Alfred prepared to draw his revolver and raised it in anticipation of a sudden attack.
The gentle night breeze brushed against their hair, seeping into their pores, making the midnight atmosphere feel tense and silent, yet hiding something within.
Their eyes constantly scanned the surroundings as they stood at the edge of the road at the intersection, where the rocky path rose upward with remnants of solidified lava.
Their gaze fixed forward, precisely at the pile of debris scattered across the road.
'That presence has disappeared! Was it from the person we are all searching for? Or another being following the two of us?' Wayne thought suspiciously, his expression remaining calm despite the confusion clouding his mind.
Finally, he lowered the long-barreled rifle slung over his shoulder.
Click.
Mr. Wayne aimed, narrowing his eyes along the barrel, locking onto a gap within the debris ahead, contemplating firing to satisfy his curiosity.
Beside him, Alfred stood stiff, his breath held, his fingers restless as he gripped his revolver tightly while watching Wayne, who was fully focused.
Without warning...
Bang...
The bullet shot forward, slicing through the air, striking directly into the gap of the old structure.
"AGHR...!"
After the scream echoed, a few seconds later came the sound of debris collapsing one after another.
Wayne and Alfred froze. Their eyes widened, pupils dilated. They had never expected the shot to be answered with a human cry of pain—or perhaps something else?
The rubble before them began to crack, as if something was violently struggling from within.
Before Wayne could raise his rifle again, a square sheet of paper, a sleep talisman with intricate symbols and rough patterns, shot rapidly toward him. Wayne was startled, frozen, with no time to evade.
However, Alfred reacted instantly. He fired two consecutive shots at the talisman.
The bullets pierced through the paper, turning it into gray ash before it could reach them. The fragments that fell onto the ground triggered a chain reaction; the pile of stones above them shook violently and collapsed at once.
"Are you alright, Sir?" Alfred asked, sweat beginning to drench his face as his gaze swept the surroundings.
The road beneath him cracked, becoming a barrier separating them from the rubble blocking their path forward.
Alfred realized his mistake. If he had not shot the talisman, the mysterious figure who had screamed earlier would have been captured, and more importantly, they would have obtained information about its presence here.
"I'm fine," Wayne replied briefly with a relieved smile. "Thank you, Alfred, you've saved me again."
What Wayne meant was that after the noble gathering earlier last year ended, he had stopped by a bar and gambled with someone, ignoring the late hour and unaware of the trouble awaiting him. The wrath of a wife.
Hearing that, Alfred did not expect it; his earlier assumption was wrong. If not for him, that talisman would have targeted them standing side by side.
"It doesn't matter if that person escaped."
"Eh." Alfred couldn't hide his surprise.
"This dust is blocking our vision, so it's better if I use it right away."
Mr. Wayne reached into his black trousers as if searching for something. He took out an object identical to a ring adorned with a shining purple crystal engraved upon it, then casually threw it forward.
There was a purpose behind it. The ring he had obtained from an auction two years ago in Tezny, at the same time an attack had occurred, allegedly carried out by a group of thieves targeting rare items within it.
He realized that trivial detail. Over the past two years—or more—numerous incidents had occurred in Havanuheta, more precisely in Moran City, which had always been their primary target.
The collapse of Eaurealis Castle. The two cathedral bell towers. The explosion of a noble's mansion in Cosdever. Strange disturbances on the streets with unknown causes. And the strangest of all, the bodies of Chalog and humans arranged into ancient letters, whose meaning remains unknown to this day.
And a mysterious group called "Intersection Society" had brought destruction upon the entire city with its terror. Wouldn't it be more profitable to target another city? Yet they chose Moran, one of the remote cities in the Havanuheta province.
That was what troubled Mr. Wayne as he used the ring to mark the coordinates of this location.
A relic capable of tracking a target within a hundred-meter range once activated. Combined with his ability as a middle-aged man highly skilled in shooting, it formed a perfect combination.
As Mr. Wayne took out a different relic and touched its surface with his right hand covered in a black glove, an electric shock ran through it, causing his hand to tremble—a natural reaction from the relic—then he threw it precisely toward the previous relic. When the two relics made contact, the effect leveled the ground within a ten-meter radius.
"That thing is quite useful," Alfred whispered as he observed the relic closely. "Where did you get such a unique relic?" he asked out of curiosity.
"That's not important, but I got it from someone," Wayne replied, his expression turning sour as he glanced aside.
'Yes, from someone—same as stealing, Wayne,' he thought, trying to suppress his laughter.
The relic emitted a reaction as if it had found something, its flickering purple light creating an atmosphere like a children's playground.
Realizing that the relic combination had succeeded and located where the figure he had shot earlier was, he let out a soft breath while stretching his muscles—the hunt was about to begin.
"Let's move now." Without waiting for a response, Wayne moved first, leaving the relic behind, intending to retrieve it after capturing the mysterious figure.
Alfred nodded in response and quickly turned around to follow him from behind.
Some time after the incident, neither of them expected that the mysterious figure they encountered at the intersection would lead them to a building called WaterDocisone—a steam-based factory abandoned due to supernatural disturbances affecting its workers, forcing its owner, a renowned noble from outside the city, to shut it down.
'This is far from what I imagined. Will it begin this soon?' Alfred thought nervously as sweat began to cover his face, his hands trembling upon noticing something at the building's door.
Crash!
A loud impact echoed through the silence. From within the darkness, a pair of glowing red lights—half-lidded eyes—watched from the shadows.
"I've waited far too long for this moment," Wayne muttered, his voice cutting through the tension in the building's yard.
Both of them reacted as the red light began to shift slowly. The figure within the darkness stepped forward with measured movements, as if each motion carried deadly certainty.
As Wayne seemed about to lower his rifle, the figure moved first. Another sleep talisman with intricate symbols shot forth, aiming at the vital points of Wayne and Alfred—an attempt to incapacitate them before a follow-up attack.
"Useless," Wayne retorted. He canceled his intent to sling his weapon. Instead, his right hand moved to press the brim of his cap. "In a situation like this... a butcher is far stronger than you imagine."
"What...!" muttered the figure behind the door, its voice trembling with panic.
"Why? Don't tell me you're trembling just because you've realized that fact?"
Without a blink of time, Wayne had already moved. He now stood towering directly before the figure, staring coldly, as if what stood before him was nothing more than an insignificant insect.
Alfred flinched as he realized Wayne had vanished in an instant. The corner of his lips lifted slightly, forming a peculiar smile as he witnessed that absolute dominance with his own eyes.
Under the shadow of the doorway, the opponent froze. His awareness was too late to realize that death had just knocked on his door.
Snap.
A finger snap echoed. The figure could only exhale in resignation, closing his eyes amid the crushing fear and the lingering pain tormenting his entire body.