Attack

"An abandoned dock? It really was a nice place."

Leonard smiled.

"Why do you say that?"

Luther asked curiously.

The ritual had ended, and they were cleaning up the scene, making sure everything was restored to its original state. Otherwise, if Mr. Pound noticed anything unusual when he came to work the next day, he would become wary.

"Think about it. No one would normally go there, so you could do whatever you wanted without worry. And the atmosphere is great too, with boats gently rocking on the water... Doesn't that set the mood?"

Leonard explained, swinging the gas lantern in his hand back and forth as though imitating a boat on the water. The light surrounded him, making his shadow sway along with it. Those of the Sleepless Pathway had excellent night vision, so the lantern was mainly for Luther.

Your imagination really is something else...

Luther had no response to that. He put away the bloodstained map and got to his feet.

As he put away the bloodied map, he subconsciously rubbed his fingers together, but no pain came from them—the wounds on his fingers had already healed. The same thing had happened when he performed the ritual for Old Neil. For some reason, his wounds always healed remarkably quickly.

According to internal Nighthawks records, those of the High Sequence of the Secrets Suppliant Pathway possessed authority over Flesh. Was that why?

Whatever. It was better than not healing.

Luther set the matter aside for now and asked Leonard, "So what do we do next? Retreat, or go take a look over there?"

"Of course we go take a look. They aren't like us—they don't know how to clean up a scene." Leonard said. "We might even find direct physical evidence there..."

"Ugh, then I'd rather not see it."

Luther said with some disgust as he pulled open the door ahead of them.

Whoosh!

A flash of dazzling white light suddenly shot out from the shadows beyond the door.

An icy sensation immediately filled his chest.

"Pfft."

A soft sound of flesh being pierced rang out.

Only then did Luther lower his head and see a dagger driven through the front of his chest. The arm gripping the dagger was still thrusting forward from the remaining momentum, driving the blade and its force into him and sending him falling backward.

Bang!

As his body slammed into the floor, he heard Leonard roar in shock and fury.

"Luther!"

Leonard's eyes were about to split with rage. One moment ago, the two had been laughing and chatting; the next, Luther ahead of him had fallen victim to a vicious attack. He saw the assailant clearly. The man was rather thin, his entire body concealed beneath a hood and cloak. He had taken advantage of the moment they opened the door to drive his dagger forward with all his strength.

The attack had been so swift and fierce that Leonard had not even had time to react!

At the very instant Luther was stabbed and fell, Leonard charged forward and lashed out with a kick. In the night, his strength had been greatly enhanced, and the kick even produced a howling gust of wind.

But the hooded Assassin nimbly retreated, dodging Leonard's attack as lightly as a feather in the wind. He looked at the fallen Luther, then at the furious Leonard, and turned to flee without the slightest hesitation.

"The stars burn with my fury, and the night wind sings my elegy..."

Leonard's voice came from behind the Assassin. His magnetic voice seemed to carry endless tranquility and sorrow, echoing through the dark corridor and clouding the listener's mind.

The fleeing Assassin came to a stop. His body began to sway, and his head drooped as though he were about to sink into a beautiful dream. Then, he suddenly raised his dagger and viciously stabbed himself in the arm!

"Urgh!"

He let out a muffled cry of pain, but it brought him back to his senses. He then raced toward the end of the corridor even faster.

"Dammit!"

Leonard immediately drew his revolver and fired at the fleeing figure.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The gunshots rang out, muzzle flashes flaring with each shot.

The Assassin kept running without slowing down. Reaching the end of the corridor, he smashed through the glass and leaped down.

Leonard chased after him and saw the man effortlessly jump from the three-story building, vanishing swiftly into the lightless darkness. Leonard gritted his teeth but did not pursue him. Instead, he turned and ran back to the manager's office. Luther's condition was still unknown—he needed help immediately!

Luther lay flat on his back on the manager's office floor, breathing deeply.

He could feel the searing pain from the wound in his chest. The pain rose and fell with every breath. But besides the pain, another sensation was feeding back into his mind.

—He could feel his Flesh squirming, as though every muscle and every piece of tissue had developed a mind of its own and wanted to repair itself. Amid the faint, dense sounds of Flesh writhing, the blood stopped pouring out, his internal organs fused back together, his muscles stretched and connected, and his tissues drew together and healed...

"Luther! Luther!"

He heard Leonard's anxious cries. Footsteps sent vibrations through the floor as the Midnight Poet rushed back to his side, then abruptly stopped. The cries cut off as well. There was no need to say it—Leonard must have witnessed the astonishing sight of his Flesh healing.

Enduring the pain, Luther forced himself upright and looked over. Sure enough, Leonard was staring at him with wide eyes, his face filled with disbelief.

"What are you..."

"Stop talking and give me a hand."

Luther held out his hand for Leonard to pull him up. "You should thank me. If I hadn't opened the door first, you'd have been the one stabbed by that dagger."

Leonard hesitated as he looked at the outstretched hand, but he still reached out, clasped it, and pulled Luther to his feet.

"Fuck, that hurts..."

The movement of getting up had been too great. Luther bared his teeth in pain, and the muscles around his wound trembled and twitched, making for a grotesque sight that sent a shiver through Leonard.

"Luther, are... are you okay?"

"Oh, I'm fine."

Luther lowered his head to inspect the wound. His internal organs had already healed, leaving only the muscles, blood vessels, and the like slowly repairing themselves. Unfortunately, his shirt was torn and stained with blood. "Did you catch that bastard?"

"No."

Leonard looked a little embarrassed. "I thought I had to come back and save you, so I only fired at him to drive him away..."

If he had chased after the enemy, never mind whether he could have caught him—his teammate would certainly have been beyond saving. There had been nothing wrong with his choice.

Luther nodded, then said, "That guy was no ordinary fighter, right?"

To exchange blows with a Sequence 8 Midnight Poet and escape successfully, the man was almost certainly a Beyonder!

"Very strong. He was a Beyonder." Leonard came to the same realization. "He was specifically targeting us, because we entered the manager's office!"

That made things strange. Was it really necessary to arrange for a Beyonder guard just to prevent an affair from being discovered?

Of course not. There had to be some hidden reason behind this.

"Quick, we have to go to that abandoned dock right away! There must be some shameful secret there!"

The two broke into a run. When they reached the corridor, Luther spotted a patch of blood on the floor. It should have been left when Leonard's bullets grazed the hooded man. An idea struck him, and he crouched down to collect the blood in a small vial.

That bastard dared stab me with a dagger. I'm definitely going to kill him!