Chapter 2486: It Belongs in a Museum |
Sunny rolled off the bed, cursing his mundane senses.
His reflexes were sharp, and despite the neglect and abuse, his body was in good shape. However, he could not sense the shadows. Even more humiliating, he could not even see in the dark — for the first time in a long while, Sunny was truly blind.
The only light in the room came through a narrow crack between the curtains, and all he could see was a dark shape jumping over the bed.
He could, however, smell wet wool, old sweat, and the stench of alcohol.
'The... the damned drunk!'
He knew it!
Paranoia had never let him down, after all…
Sunny was laying on the floor in an awkward pose, while the attacker was on the bed, a split second away from coming down with the deadly blade in his hand — it was a mundane knife, but here in Mirage City, even a mundane blade had the power to make Sunny bleed.
It had the power to make him die.
And that was his most frightening quality, by far — a strength far more important than his Aspect, Attributes, and Domain had ever been.
Instead of trying to rise, Sunny kicked the cheap bed with all his might. It slid half a meter back, throwing the moving attacker off balance — the dark silhouette swayed and fell, crashing into the floor.
There was the sound of empty bottles breaking, and glass shards were suddenly everywhere.
Grabbing a curtain, Sunny pulled it down while jumping to his feet. The shoddily attached curtain pole snapped, and the cold light of electric street lights poured into the small apartment.
His pale skin, lean muscles, and the coils of the black serpent tattooed across his body were revealed in that light.
The eerie, glassy eyes of the supposed drunk were revealed, too.
Sunny looked at him with a calm, cold gaze of a seasoned killer.
"You have some nerve, coming after a cop. Who sent you?"
Instead of answering, the drunk lunged forward.
The man looked like a drunk and smelled like a drunk… but he moved with the speed and deadly precision of a trained assassin.
'Assassins, huh? That is a new one…'
There weren't any professional assassins left in the real world. There were consummate slayers proficient in killing quietly, sure, but who had time to specialize in assassinating people when there were hordes of Nightmare Creatures roaming both the Dream Realm and Earth? There was no stable employment in that, so even for those who did do such work, it was merely a part-time job.
Sunny had envisioned himself as one such quiet killer once, though, so he felt a little resentful of the man who had entered his apartment to end his life.
Catching the man's wrist, Sunny turned, isolating the enemy's arm between his own and his torso, then slammed the palm of his other hand into the killer's fist. The knife rattled as it fell on the floor, and he immediately spun, tensing his abdominal muscles — and not a second too soon.
The assassin's fist crashed into the steel barrier of his muscles, and at the same time, Sunny's elbow caught the man in the side of the head.
Disoriented, the man staggered toward the window and turned, shielding his head with one arm.
The other reached toward his belt and pulled out a strange contraption. It had a short stubby barrel and a revolving cylinder protruding from the middle of its metal frame, with a ring protecting the assassin's index finger, but not the rest of them.
'That's… an ancient gun.'
An average Awakened might not know a lot about firearms, but Sunny had led mundane soldiers across the frigid expanse of Antarctica.
He had also grown up in the outskirts, so he knew a gun when he saw one, even if it was an archaic relic that belonged in a museum.
Sunny looked at the killer with a dark expression.
'Who brings a gun to a fistfight? That's cheating.'
Before the assassin could raise the gun and point it forward, Sunny raised his leg and delivered a devastating push kick to the middle of the man's sternum.
It was powerful enough to shatter ribs — but more importantly, it was powerful enough to throw the bastard far back.
And behind him… was the window.
The assassin shattered the glass with his back and tumbled over the parapet, letting in the noise of the rain and the chilly wind.
He fell down surrounded by sharp shards, leaving the same way he had come — accompanied by the sound of breaking glass.
'...Which floor do I leave on, again?'
Sunny approached the broken window and looked down.
The body sprawled on the wet asphalt far below was still moving. The man shuddered, then climbed to his feet slowly and staggered away, leaving a trail of blood in his wake.
'That bastard.'
Throwing the curtain over the shattered window to avoid cutting himself, Sunny climbed out, grabbed the slippery drain pipe, and nimbly descended to the ground.
The rain pelted his naked torso, and his wet hair got into his eyes. Worse of all, his black pajama pants were swiftly absorbing water.
Sunny followed the trail of blood to a fence a dozen metres away. A random passerby gasped when noticing his tattoo, then hurried away with a terrified expression on their face.
Passing the fence, Sunny just barely saw the wounded assassin disappearing around the corner. There was someone standing at the side of the road, as well, wearing a torn raincoat and an unassuming cap. They were staring at the blood left in the wake of the failed killer.
'Another chance witness. Why aren't all of these people sleeping?'
In the red neon light of a nearby shop sign, the passerby looked like he was bathed in blood.
Sunny walked barefoot across the puddles, then stopped and looked at the chance witness darkly. He looked at Sunny as well…
And then smiled with amusement.
Sunny could see his pale body reflecting in the ragged man's mirror-like eyes.
"Ah, what a nice surprise. Fancy seeing you here, Detective. Are you out for a nice evening stroll?"
Sunny smiled darkly.
"...Cut the crap. I know who you are."
Mordret — the Prince of Nothing — studied him for a moment, and then chuckled.
"I know who you are, too."
He smiled pleasantly.
"You're the man who killed my father."
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