"It’s you who killed them all."
Lorenzo’s gaze turned serious as he looked at Sabo, wanting to know what kind of person lay beneath that bull mask.
"Yes, they’re all dead. That’s what the ntor demanded. When they returned, they thought they would be praised. In reality, they did receive complints, good food and drink, as much hallucinogen as they wanted. Afterwards, I sealed off the room and poured oil through the crack in the door. By the ti they died, the hallucinogen had taken effect. They only felt the gentle embrace of the Celestial Kingdom, sleeping eternally within it."
Sabo spoke calmly, seemingly unaffected by the acts of atrocity he committed.
"Why did you kill him..." Lorenzo was about to say sothing but promptly realized everything, his expression changing before he tightened his grip on the Winchester.
"This is why you were willing to tell everything, isn’t it?"
The detective finally recognized all the abnormalities; there was never any naless goodwill—neither for Lorenzo nor for Sabo.
"Yes."
Sabo nodded, his tone devoid of joy or sadness, a deanor Lorenzo had seen before in the Victoria Central Hospital, among those near death. The world no longer disturbed them; no joy nor sorrow, only resignation and calm acceptance of the impending death.
It was a destined fate with no room for alteration.
"That’s sothing mortals can’t touch. Just knowing it exists is a great sin... like staring at the blazing sun, you must pay the price of your eyes burning."
"So, is this their price? Death." Lorenzo spoke.
He did not directly answer Lorenzo, the short figure leapt off the chair, swaying with an indescribable feeling.
"Death is a release, at least much better than being alive. Detective, you don’t understand what that thing truly is."
"So that’s why you’re acting out of such goodwill? Everyone who knows about these things must die, whether it’s the crew of the Silverfish or us at this mont. Everyone here tonight must perish, correct?"
That’s the reason for Sabo’s honesty, Lorenzo’s arrival was just an unexpected blessing, everyone stepping into this wild feast tonight must die, sacrifices for touching the forbidden, only blood and flesh could bring it peace.
The deadly shotgun pointed at Sabo, Lorenzo’s attention entirely on him. As soon as he pulls the trigger, the shotgun would unleash a conical barrage, with his diminutive fra destined not to escape.
"And what about you? You know all this; is your death also tonight?"
Lorenzo questioned, if the Holy Coffin was indeed an unspeakable and untouchable thing, then Sabo should also be among those being reckoned with.
Only for Sabo to answer calmly.
"Yes, I will die tonight too."
From the start, Sabo never intended for anyone to leave alive, the previous gamble was rely the final ga for the dying. A few fingers picked up the Thrusting Sword, a light shake could produce a howl of tearing through the air, followed by the blood stained upon it falling like rain.
"Stop!"
Eve picked up the revolver from the gambling table, with just one bullet in the chamber ready to fire. With two guns now aid at Sabo, they were sure to win.
"Wait, Eve!"
Lorenzo suddenly halted Eve’s action, his cold gaze now a bit muddled, realizing the danger with a fierce look.
"So this was your aim, this is the reason you had ti to play the coin ga with us, right?"
Sabo nodded, the thrusting sword deadly and sharp under the manipulation of several fingers.
"You are Lorenzo Hols. In the Blood River Massacre, you used both gun and sword to kill hundreds of gang mbers. More than a detective, you’re a skilled murderer, and I am a deformity. Face-to-face, I am certainly no match for you. Fortunately, you needed information, which granted the hallucinogen a long ti to take effect."
This was the hallucinogen perating the air, originally not very concentrated, but under Sabo’s deliberate manipulation and stall tactics, Lorenzo had inhaled quite a bit, now seeing hallucinations in his vision.
The bull mask seed to co alive, blood flowed on that strange face. Only then did Lorenzo suddenly realize that the mask was never a bull; it had horns, it was a monster, and it was Lorenzo’s common knowledge that subconsciously made him think it was a bull.
"Get away, Eve!"
Lorenzo roared while pulling the trigger, experiencing hallucinations, unable to determine the reality before him. All he could do was urge Eve to move far away to avoid accidental harm.
But Eve didn’t respond to him. The girl’s eyes carried a hint of terror. It was clear she wanted to calm down, but her hand holding the gun was trembling. She was having hallucinations too.
Under the do, thunder roared.
No ti for Lorenzo to hesitate. The scattered bullets shattered the gambling table but failed to hit Sabo. That small figure was much swifter than Lorenzo imagined. The thrusting sword left a silver-white trail in the air, like a swimming fish, then sharply slashed toward Lorenzo.
In the crisis, Lorenzo could only draw up his staff to block. The crumbling blade of the thrusting sword was like a saw, slicing open the wooden exterior and then sparking brightly.
"A sword like mine!"
Sabo shouted, then continued to slash along the staff. The wooden shell completely shattered, revealing the bright tallic sheen beneath.
Lorenzo was forced back a few steps by the strike, unable to imagine such force erupting from that body. In the struggle, the Winchester was no longer of much use. Lorenzo hung it behind him and gripped the staff sword tightly.
Sabo was right; this was the sa type of weapon as the thrusting sword, with only a blade and hilt. The sword guard ant for protection was long gone.
The sword guard is the piece on the blade ant to protect the swordsman’s hand from being cut by a sliding blade when two blades are locked together. But now, neither of these weapons had it, just like their owners, who never cared about protecting themselves, confident enough to kill their opponent before being hard.
"You should have been affected by the hallucinogen too, right."
Because of the hallucinogen, the world in Lorenzo’s eyes began to distort and deform. He couldn’t be sure of what he saw. Firearms naturally couldn’t capture enemies, but swords were different, like a blind man’s cane. The sword in his hand touched reality and wouldn’t deceive Lorenzo.
"I’m already used to swinging a sword in illusions; it’s just a habit you get used to. I’m a natural weakling, so my ans are naturally more despicable. I hope you understand."
Sabo cocked his sword. In his view, the world was also distorted, but he’d lived here long enough that it didn’t affect him.
He was inherently deford, couldn’t run fast or jump high, and lost most of his fingers in the gambling ga. He wanted to win, desperately wanted to win. From the day he was born, he was a loser. He had nothing, so he took everything he could plunder.
"I got used to carrying sand in my pocket long ago, to throw in an enemy’s face and slash their throat in the mont."
Sabo said this, swung his other hand behind him, body bending like a bow, and the next second, he rushed forward like an arrow.
The swords clashed together, the sparks flying under the influence of illusions as if igniting a grand fire, beyond which horned monsters ca with ferocity.
Sabo could hardly exert force with those few fingers, the frontal fight was far less powerful than Lorenzo could manage. So the thrusting sword, like a serpent, struck a different angle with the impact force, never lingering like a dragonfly skimming water.
The staff sword followed closely after Sabo, but then Sabo spun in the air, his hand hidden behind him suddenly thrust forward.
Lorenzo had been waiting for this chance. Sabo swung out the sand from his hand, so Lorenzo lifted his coat to cover Sabo’s view. But unexpectedly, what was swung was not sand but dust-like substance.
The narrow battlefield instantly filled with red smoke. Lorenzo inhaled the first breath and realized the danger.
It was a hallucinogen, a large dose hallucinogen.
Holding his breath, Lorenzo rolled out of the smoke cloud, while behind him, Sabo just stood there motionless, breathing steadily, without realizing what he was doing.
Nerves were being invaded. Lorenzo created distance, trembling, retrieving a cigarette from his pocket. It was Lorenzo’s favorite, filled with invigorating herbs. Though unsure how long it would counter the hallucinogen, it was better than nothing.
But before Lorenzo could light the cigarette, hellish illusions swallowed him, the ground beneath beca soft, the skin felt a scorching heat, and then the ceiling’s chandelier flared like a blazing sun.
"Would you see this kind of thing after inhaling... there’s no such thing as a Celestial Kingdom."
Lorenzo hadn’t seen such scenery in a long ti, like an unholy ritual of hell. Beneath the dance floor, bodies of people rotted and broke, bizarre creatures erged from within, joyful moaning turned to endless screaming. Amidst it all, Sabo slowly erged from the smoke, the tallic mask entirely integrated into his skull, steel and flesh becoming one. With his sinister grin, the mask cracked into a dark mouth.
"Isn’t Heaven and Hell relative to everyone? For , this is already Heaven."
Facing this scarlet world, Sabo’s voice was mixed with chaotic noise, hoisting the thrusting sword, the sharp tip pointing directly at Lorenzo.
"Mr. Hols, weren’t you once a priest? Pray for yourself."
The small figure beca sinister. The air, with the transformation, felt even hotter, as if bathed in lava.
Lorenzo knew these were all illusions, but he couldn’t find a way out. His senses were starting to be deceived; he thought he was standing, but he might have already fallen, nor could he trust the sword he held.
As for praying... does anyone really believe in such things?
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