Bologue disappeared.
For a gunman, his target suddenly vanishing from sight is definitely not good news.
Even with his rich experience, Ferguson didn’t panic. Instead, he cautiously retracted his alchemy firearms and quickly relocated.
As a Prayer Believer, besides honing his Secret Energy, Ferguson devoted all his energy to Ethereal Skills. He excelled in Ethereal Concealnt and Ethereal Perception; the forr could hide him from enemy sight, while the latter could expose enemies to his eyes.
Ferguson’s attacks usually launched from beyond visual range. Although this distance protected him from being discovered by enemies, it also made it difficult for him to promptly observe enemy movents. The alchemy firearms’ scope had many limitations as well.
When Bologue disappeared, Ferguson fully deployed his Ethereal Perception, searching for the ethereal remnants of Bologue, like a hound tracking blood.
Ferguson had great confidence in tonight’s operation. As an avid fan of Bologue, they had ticulously researched all of Bologue’s information beforehand. Whether it was Bologue’s Undying Body or his peculiar personality, Ferguson knew it all sowhat.
Besides that, even Bologue’s private life was well known to Ferguson. He knew Bologue’s favorite movies, his music taste, and the food he frequently ate.
Ferguson’s breathing grew heavy. His nerves beca more excited, but soon this joy began to quickly withdraw, as if a monster in Ferguson’s heart fed on emotions, devouring his joy, anger, sadness, leaving only an emotional void.
The sheer emptiness tortured Ferguson endlessly, urging him on like Bulimia Nervosa.
Gulping the air, Ferguson’s expression was both excited and pained. Suddenly, he drew a short knife and slashed along his wrist, leaving shallow cuts, pressing the wounds hard with his fingers, making himself bloodied. In the intense pain, a new wave of joy surged from within.
The emptiness vanished, Ferguson felt joyful again, eyes filled with fanaticism, moving forward once more.
"Bologue... Bologue Lazarus!"
Ferguson cheered Bologue’s na. Bologue was his idol, his savior, the rope to pull them from the abyss of nothingness.
It was Ferguson’s opportunity to redeem everything.
Under the night, several figures moved among the buildings, close to the world but infinitely distant.
Ferguson wasn’t worried Bologue would flee back to the Order Bureau. He knew Bologue too well, even though it was Ferguson’s first ti seeing Bologue.
Bologue was an arrogant guy, who wouldn’t choose to escape because of such setbacks. Though Bologue seed to hide, Ferguson knew, Bologue was only gathering strength, waiting for the mont to counterattack.
Bologue wouldn’t escape. He was devising a plan to kill Ferguson and end tonight’s conflict.
Thinking of the possible approaching death, Ferguson murmured, "Amazing..."
Bologue wasn’t adept at Ethereal Concealnt. Ferguson approached the last location where Bologue disappeared, confident that his keen ethereal perception would detect Bologue’s residual traces. Besides, he wasn’t alone in hunting Bologue tonight. He had nothing to worry about.
Ferguson whispered to the darkness, "Have you found him?"
Ferguson paused not far from Bologue’s last known location, using the scope to survey the area.
"Not yet."
A similarly low voice responded from the darkness,
"I sensed his ether. He should be moving eastward."
Soon, a response from the darkness arrived, and Ferguson imdiately changed direction, swiftly closing in on Bologue’s location, trying to encircle him again.
While moving at high speed, Ferguson detected another ether reaction—Brow. In this dark environnt, he could shuttle through shadows, moving faster than Ferguson.
Ferguson found a nearby vantage point, set up his alchemy firearms, and the scope scanned the surrounding area.
The alchemy firearms in his hands began to unfold further driven by ether, ether pouring into the chamber, enhancing the next shot.
Ferguson gently caressed the gun’s body. This alchemy firearm nad "Silent Fang" was his beloved.
Silent Fang itself wasn’t particularly powerful. It ca with multiple alchemical matrices, achieving various effects, sacrificing deception for comprehensive adaptability.
Attached to the barrel was the "Silent One" alchemy matrix, which could silence gunshots. Typically, this alchemy matrix was often used on footwear to conceal assassins’ tracks. The scope had the "Hawkeye" effect, allowing Ferguson’s vision to exceed limits. The firearm itself carried the power of enhanced warheads, firing bullets of varying strength depending on the amount of ether infused.
Ferguson liked this gun. It was perfectly suited to his strength. Using it, Ferguson didn’t know how many heads he had blown off beyond visual range.
"Brow, where are you now?"
"Right near you, otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to talk with you."
A familiar voice ca from the darkness, Ferguson didn’t focus much on the darkness. He knew it was Brow’s Secret Energy.
Ferguson continued to ask, "Has the Dark Erosion Beast found him?"
Brow responded in the darkness, "Don’t rush, don’t rush, controlling it isn’t an easy matter."
Light flickered in Brow’s eyes. Like Ferguson, he hid in a corner. At that mont, Brow’s senses were linked with the Dark Erosion Beast, commanding it as if it were his own body.
Bologue’s ether residues hovered in the air, and the Dark Erosion Beast rapidly advanced following the trail. The closer it got to Bologue, Brow experienced the sa euphoria as Ferguson, the empty heart was gradually filled, bringing a complete sense of fullness.
Ferguson cald down, slowing his breathing. His whole aura rapidly decreased, and within a few seconds, he completely concealed himself. In this state of stasis, Ferguson’s Ethereal Concealnt could reach its limit, becoming like a hibernating creature, devoid of any aura leakage.
The Dark Erosion Beast continually traversed through the shadows. As an ethereal creation, it could switch between an ether energy body and a solid form, a capability similar to the Negative Power Users’ etherealization.
"Brow... I see him."
Ferguson maneuvered his firearm. A few hundred ters away, through the scope, he saw the silver-white figure atop the building.
The cyan Fla of the Cauldron blazed on the armor’s surface. Bologue was vigilantly watching, holding a massive shield that covered half of his body.
"Mr. Lazarus, this won’t be able to stop ."
Ferguson silently loaded the ammunition. The alchemy warheads mixed with regular bullets, and after Silent Fang’s enhancent, so bullets would harm Bologue, while others couldn’t penetrate the armor. The chaotic onslaught would further disturb Bologue’s judgnt.
They were hunting the tiger, so they must adopt a professional hunter’s stance. Ferguson intended to slowly tornt Bologue, gradually sapping his energy and stamina, pulling the fatal trigger the mont Bologue showed signs of weakness.
Ferguson knew Bologue was an Undead. For tonight’s hunting, he had specially prepared anesthetic bullets.
Monts before pulling the trigger, Ferguson suddenly shifted the muzzle slightly, aiming it in a completely different direction.
Pulling the trigger, the warhead flew at high speed through the air. In its rapid rotation, its trajectory didn’t proceed in a straight line but began to subtly deviate, twisting into a nearly right-angle curve, hitting the armor from another direction.
Indistinguishable glimrs flashed in Ferguson’s eyes. He pulled the trigger multiple tis, emptying the ammunition. Several warheads raced through the air, hitting the armor from different angles, denting the shield, making the tall silhouette tremble with each shot, sparks flying everywhere.
Bologue couldn’t locate Ferguson. Under Ferguson’s Command, no one could find his presence based on the trajectory of his shots.
The smile on Ferguson’s face beca increasingly broad, revealing ghastly white teeth. Like a madman, each ti he hit Bologue, he felt ecstasy surging through his nerves.
Again and again.
Suddenly, Ferguson detected another approaching ether reaction. The opponent was fast, far exceeding expectations. Alert, Ferguson rose up, and at the mont of turning his head, he saw the burning Long Spear.
Like a teor tearing the night sky, it struck Ferguson’s vantage point, explosive flas engulfing the rooftop.
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