Outside the church doors, two figures appeared, their shadows slowly stretching into the hall...
But they were not the Black man in sunglasses and King Arthur from before. One was a dark-skinned player from [India], codenamed [Hanuman]; the other was a blonde player from [America], codenamed [Loki].
"Is the target here?" Hanuman asked.
"It can't be wrong. The scent is here." The player codenamed Loki wore a cowboy-style outfit, a leather cowboy hat on his head and a vintage revolver holstered at his waist.
Scraping the spurs on the heels of his cowboy boots, Loki raised his head and twitched his nose. "I smell a familiar scent... There's also a fellow servant of the [Wheel of Fortune] here."
The moment the two stepped inside, they sensed that something was off in the church hall. Strange noises echoed through the air.
Bang—Bang—Bang!!
A piercing series of ruptures suddenly rang out. In the hazy light, they could vaguely make out split-open bellies, sticky intestines and bloody pulp spilling across the floor like excrement.
In an instant, several horrifying sinister auras filled the hall.
"I smell... bad luck." Loki stared at those restless bellies.
Hanuman said calmly, "According to the town's rules, as long as we weren't the ones who cut open their bellies, their hatred won't lock onto us..."
"But we've been plagued by misfortune, which means we've already been targeted."
Loki's nose seemed almost blessed as it wriggled through the air. "Every resident carries the scent of The Pope's servant... This should be the work of that Tarot Card."
"Five cursed fetuses. Two have locked onto me, and three have locked onto you."
"Hanuman, I'll leave my bad luck to you. I'm going to catch that [Devil]."
Just as Hanuman was about to curse, Loki pulled out the revolver at his