The crowd was terrified, blood and rainwater mixed into a dark red turbid stream rushing forth, with piercing screams blending with the sound of the rain, becoming the prelude to chaos. Lorenzo stood on this cold stage, gripping the folding blade in his hand.
In the curtain of rain, he couldn't find Moriarty's figure. Logically, Moriarty wouldn't let Lorenzo detect his whereabouts either. This was a dangerous man who had set his eyes on Lorenzo long ago, devising a series of "gas" to capture him.
Lorenzo gently stroked the back of his neck where Moriarty had just attacked. He never imagined Moriarty would dare to appear before him in person. Reality mixed with falsity; even Lorenzo, a master of deception, had been fooled.
Yet Moriarty still gave him the feeling of playing a ga, never viewing any of this as a slaughter, a war. Actually, the ga had ended at that mont. Had Moriarty swung a blade, that strike might have decapitated Lorenzo, but he didn't.
He was proving himself, taking terrifying risks to prove his ability to harm him. But doing so would be too uninteresting for Moriarty; he relished the ga, this damned ga.
The corpses were washed by the water flow, the iron whistles of mounted police faintly echoed, and the sound of hooves rang out—they were coming.
There was no ti to ponder right or wrong. Lorenzo had killed many demons and many ordinary people—not that he lacked a sense of remorse, but he felt such things were best left until death.
The ga had begun, and Moriarty must have more ans in store. Lorenzo couldn't sit idly by. Without a hint of hesitation, he sprinted through the puddles, quickly fleeing the scene.
He had a steadfast heart that could withstand all nightmares, but before that, Lorenzo needed weapons.
Returning to 121A Cork Street, Lorenzo wasted no ti, dashing straight into his room, grabbing all the weapons he had prepared in advance.
Winchester was blown apart completely, and the nail sword Lorenzo took from the Evangelical Church was nearly worn out, so he recently relied on the standard weapons provided by the Purification chanism. Because of frequent replacents, quite a few had accumulated under Lorenzo's bed, like a small arsenal.
Shotgun, hook gun, folding blade... Lorenzo ard himself as much as possible without compromising his agility. For a mont, looking at the cold weapons on him, he almost felt like shouting holy words and heading for a crusade.
Unfortunately, the crusades were events of hundreds of years ago, and the old Order burned to ashes on the Night of the Holy Arrival. Lorenzo was now alone, fully ard, and exuding a murderous aura.
Yet after doing all this, Lorenzo didn't take any further action. Instead, he rested, sitting on the bed, listening to the monotonous sound of the rain outside the window.
He had no intention of fleeing. Heracles was Lorenzo's covert piece, his communication network. This unusual Rat King had no real combat power, and if Lorenzo tried to find him, it might expose him as well. As for Oscar... the ga had just begun, Lorenzo hadn't lost yet, so there was no need to initiate the escape route now.
It's as if everything returned to before. Rarely did Lorenzo use his brain instead of directly charging in with the nail sword. After all, his enemies now were no longer those demons driven by instinct but Moriarty, who was far more cunning than them.
The street massacre couldn't be hidden from the Purification chanism. They must have already gotten the news, heading for Cork Street. Lorenzo pondered intensely; he was a detective and a criminal, adept at switching between the two, just as when he worked for Bola. Now, he needed to think about what Moriarty would do next.
His rash actions would only increase the Purification chanism's suspicions of him, which was exactly what Moriarty wanted. Lorenzo's alliance with the Purification chanism was the biggest obstacle to the new Order recovering the Pseudo Holy Grail. They needed to make the Purification chanism abandon him.
If that's the case, the thod is simple, just make himself uncontrollable even by the Purification chanism. But how would they do it?
Expanding the slaughter? He was misled by Moriarty's illusion. Moriarty could mislead him once, but never again. Moriarty must know this too, so what would he do?
No...
Lorenzo suddenly awoke with a start. He couldn't focus all his attention on Moriarty and the new Order. There was also that damned letter... Lawrence's remnants were lurking in Old Dunling. Both he and the Purification chanism were distracted by the new Order, ignoring them.
Lawrence's remnants posed the real threat. They possessed the "Revelation" and the ability to manufacture Secret Blood. Lorenzo had previously tracked down substandard Secret Blood still circulating.
Lorenzo's gaze lowered, tightly gripping the folding blade in his hand until footsteps sounded from the staircase. Perhaps it was Mrs. Van Rudd, or maybe Hig. Lorenzo should have been used to this, but today he felt a bit uneasy.
This ti, he didn't theatrically flick the folding blade open. Instead, he pinched the blade, quietly extending it as he silently stood up, watching his room door.
User Comments
0 comments from readers