Of course!
Fu Qian looked at the revolver on the ground without surprise.
Obviously, Knight had been about to shoot himself, just as he had done to Herom.
Too bad I'm not like that guy.
Fu Qian shook his head.
The finger on the revolver's trigger was still trying to pull it.
But the hand was already so fragile that it snapped in two with the slightest pressure, then continued crumbling into a pile of dust.
It wasn't just the severed hand. The same thing was happening to Knight's body.
The old man who'd just said how nice and warm it was now had flesh and skin constantly sloughing off him.
The contamination from the demigod's remains hadn't simply gone away after being purified.
As a mortal, Knight's body had become a battleground for two opposing forces. It had long since been pushed beyond its limits.
Now it had finally given out and begun to fall apart. That was why his severed arm lay on the ground.
As for why he'd wanted to kill Fu Qian—
"Hmph. You think I can't tell you're Herom's accomplice?"
Knight hadn't even noticed that his arm had fallen to the ground.
"You came snooping around twice, last night and today. Did you notice your accomplice was missing and come to find out what happened?"
"But you're obviously more cunning than Herom. I figured I might as well share a few secrets to put you at ease. It doesn't matter—you'll be dead soon anyway. How did the bullet taste?"
Old man, your bullet's still on the ground.
Fu Qian wore a speechless expression, but given Knight's condition, it was only natural that his mind was muddled.
Obviously, the script in Knight's head this time wasn't about sitting down for a heart-to-heart with his friend. Instead,