Gelman pushed open the glass door plastered with GG Paper and entered the deserted lobby. After looking around, he walked up to the front desk, which reached about chest height.
A portly middle-aged man sat behind the desk, lazily glancing at Gelman while flipping through a magazine featuring a scantily clad cover model.
"What is it?" the man asked impatiently.
"One night. Single room."
"Six thousand Jenny."
Gelman had no idea whether that was expensive or cheap. He only knew that the more than six thousand Jenny he'd just obtained by chance had vanished in an instant.
He took 6,000 Jenny from his wallet and set it on the desk.
The man snatched up the bills, gave them a quick count, and put them away. Then he opened a drawer, casually grabbed a key with a room number on it, and tossed it in front of Gelman.
"Go upstairs, turn right, and find your room by the number."
He didn't even ask Gelman's name before returning to studying the magazine model's figure.
All kinds of shady characters stayed at this rundown inn. If he looked too closely into every guest, he probably wouldn't have lived this long.
Why bother? As long as they paid, that was enough.
Those who chose to stay here liked his attitude. They both got what they wanted.
Gelman picked up the key. The number "207" on its faded sticker was barely legible. He headed for the stairs and climbed to the second floor, taking the steps without a handrail.
He found the room with the matching number, went inside, and locked the door. Then he walked to the rusted windowsill and stood behind the curtain, looking outside.
Gelman had noticed three people following him earlier. He'd deliberately brushed past them now and then, committing their appearances to memory.
But he didn't know who the fourth person Biscuit had mentioned was. Biscuit had deliberately kept that from him.
Ten minutes later, the two obvious assassins finally crossed the street and entered the inn. Another fifteen minutes passed before the third assassin showed up.
After that, Gelman dragged over a chair and sat beside the window, continuing to watch. He noted everyone who entered the inn, aside from the three assassins.
Gelman thought he might have seen the fourth person without realizing it.
Though Biscuit hadn't told him who the fourth person was, her words had been a hint: the person had to be someone they'd both seen.
But comparing their memories left him disappointed. Not a single person fit.
That meant he had to consider disguises and other possibilities.
The fourth assassin seemed exceptionally cautious. It was even possible they hadn't approached the inn yet.
Gelman couldn't leave a threat like that unattended. For now, he could only wait for them to make the first move.
They'd followed him all this way to find the right moment to strike.
Gelman would have to create that opportunity for them.
He picked up the landline on the wall, keeping his eyes on the street as he dialed the number he'd noted at the front desk. He was calling the innkeeper.
"Hello? What do you want?"
"Bring two cases of beer to room 207. I'll pay you later."
"Two cases of beer? Sure... Just wait a bit."
Some time later, two cases of beer were delivered to Gelman's room. He opened them, set them on the table, and casually picked up a can.
Night fell. Fewer and fewer people walked along the street, and the surroundings grew quiet.
Gelman left the light off, letting the room sink into darkness.
"Pssht." He cracked open a can and slowly poured the beer onto the sheets. Once it was empty, he crushed the can with a series of sharp crunches and tossed it onto the floor.
He repeated this over and over until he had "finished" a case of beer. Then he got up and went into the bathroom.
By then, he'd suppressed most of the aura he'd been projecting.
This was a signal to outsiders, making them think he was gradually letting his guard down.
After his shower, he continued "drinking." When he had two cans left, he finally stopped. He stood up from the chair, kicked aside the can in front of him, and staggered over to the bed.
He collapsed onto it, finally letting his guard down, and "fell asleep."
After an unknown amount of time, a faint sound came from the keyhole. Then came a soft click, and the locked door swung open.
The light from the hallway stabbed into the darkness of the room like a sword.
The two men glanced at the beer cans on the floor, then at the blanket bulging on the bed. Without hesitation, they walked over and raised their Silenced Pistols together, aiming at the covers.
After a few brief "pfft, pfft, pfft" sounds, they realized the shots didn't sound like they'd struck flesh. They sounded more like they'd hit pillows. The two frowned.
They exchanged a glance but didn't approach to check. Instead, they backed toward the door.
From beneath the bed, Gelman raised his Blunderbuss and fired at one of them in the stomach with a BANG.
The man staggered and fell flat on his back. A bloody crater riddled with holes opened in his abdomen, and he stopped moving at once.
The other man glanced over, his eyelids twitching wildly. As he fired beneath the bed, he pressed the Mini Communicator at his collar to his mouth and gave a brief report.
"We've been spotted. One down."
Gelman rolled out from the other side of the bed and sprang to his feet. With a quick swing of his Meat Saw, he deflected the bullets, sending them clanging against the blade amid flashes of sparks.
The assassin with the pistol fled the room.
Gelman went after him.
The dim yellow lights flickered along the hallway. Aside from room 207, not a single door had opened.
The other guests hadn't failed to hear the gunshots. They'd chosen to keep their doors shut and pretend they hadn't heard anything.
Once the fleeing assassin saw that he'd lured Gelman out, he turned and kept shooting until his bullets ran out.
Gelman deflected the bullets with his Meat Saw, but didn't bother pursuing him. Instead, he turned and focused on the assassin who had appeared at the other end of the hallway.
This was the third assassin.
He'd been wearing a black robe, but now he flung it open. Five Nen Balls shot from his chest, some smashing into the walls and leaving small craters, others hitting the light fixtures and sending sparks flying.
There was no doubt about it: he was an Emitter.
The five Nen Balls ricocheted in every direction without any pattern, but the hallway was straight. Sooner or later, they would bounce toward Gelman.
Gelman BANG! BANG! slashed two Nen Balls apart with his Meat Saw, blasted another two with his Blunderbuss, then dodged the last one with a sidestep.
Looking at the shattered light fixtures scattered across the floor, he suddenly got an idea. He raised his Blunderbuss and BANG! blew out a light fixture farther down the hall.
Soon, half the hallway was swallowed by darkness.
The second assassin—the one who had first entered the room—was on that side. The sudden darkness briefly blinded him. By the time his vision cleared, Gelman had vanished.
Nervously, he tossed away his empty pistol and pulled out the Brass Knuckles that made him feel safer, slipping them onto his right hand.
At a suspicious "click," he immediately turned and swung a punch, putting the force of his waist behind it.
BOOM!
His Brass Knuckles and fist smashed a man-sized hole into the wall, revealing terrified guests screaming inside the room.
But Gelman wasn't there.
A gun barrel pressed against his lower back, and a Meat Saw rested against his neck. Gelman's voice sounded beside his ear.
"An Enhancer?"
"You..."
The second assassin's eyes widened in terror, but before he could finish speaking, the Meat Saw slashed his throat. Blood splattered, swallowing every indistinct groan.
The wall was instantly stained black and red.
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