Total Annihilation

Winster never understood, even in death, why Sean's magic could reflect bullets.

As a former mercenary, he didn't fear death. For those in his profession, dying was only a matter of time.

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If you want to kill, you must be prepared to be killed.

He didn't resent Sean, just felt incredibly unwilling.

As an outstanding Witch Hunter, he had killed over a hundred Wizards. Winster had seen every kind of low-level magic: fireballs, ice spikes, earth walls, wind vortexes, even soul strikes. He had experience dealing with them all. Only what Sean displayed—a golden ring formed by formulas—was beyond his comprehension.

If he had known Sean's magic was so bizarre, he would never have ordered his men to open fire.

--Actually, he hadn't ordered the shot. It was that orderly from Holkodo.

That's why Winster felt unwilling.

Unfortunately, there was no medicine for regret in this world, and he had no chance to start over.

Faced with the armor-piercing rounds his companion had specifically ordered his men to switch to, Winster didn't have time to make any move. He was directly turned into a sieve, blood pouring from the holes in his body like water, dyeing him a bloody mess.

His legs gave out and he knelt, gazing at the indifferent expression of the writer he had mistaken for frail, not far away. The shock and unwillingness in his eyes lingered until his consciousness blurred. Only then did his head finally droop, his broken body toppling forward, hitting the ground with a "thud."

Only his phone, luckily untouched by the bullets in his pocket, buzzed.

Meanwhile.

In an office.

A man sat before his desk, holding a handset, his brow furrowed.

Ten minutes ago, he had received a call from his superior, demanding he immediately contact Winster and order the Witch Hunter team in the Black Berry Rainforest to cease operations.

The Spring of Enlightenment in the Black Berry Rainforest was a primary supply channel for their trading company, and a significant portion of their performance came from it. He didn't quite understand why his superior wanted to terminate the operation, but he still followed instructions and called Winster.

The result was that he couldn't get through.

He tried several times. At first, no one answered. Then, the phone was simply turned off. If he hadn't known Winster was on a mission in the Black Berry Rainforest, he would have suspected the guy was out drinking at some bar and his phone had been stolen.

He didn't understand what Winster was up to. He tried calling again, but it was still off. He had no choice but to report the situation truthfully to his superior.

When his superior heard that Winster couldn't be reached, he called his own superior.

Thus, the Flame Crow Girl, who had been patiently waiting for a response, received the call.

"What do you mean you can't reach him?"

"No answer, and now the phone is turned off."

"?"

It's over.

A bad premonition instantly arose in the girl's heart.

Not answering the phone, then turning it off—many thieves did this. Therefore, it had also become a common tactic for some Witch Hunters to refuse orders, blaming the thief later.

She didn't have the time to investigate whether it was the former or the latter. Because no matter which possibility it was, it meant she could no longer stop the Witch Hunter operation in the Black Berry Rainforest, which in turn meant the target who drank from the Spring of Enlightenment was destined for a tragic end.

Seeing the girl remain silent, the person on the other end hesitantly asked, "Should I send a team over to check the situation? If he's still alive, I'll find a way to get him back."

The girl was silent for a moment before speaking, "It's too late."

Given Sean's previous demeanor, he wasn't someone who would surrender easily. The only outcome of resistance was immediate execution. The most effective weapon against a low-level Wizard was a gun. Experienced Witch Hunters wouldn't even let their target get within ten meters, no matter how fierce the prey was, they wouldn't have a chance to fight back.

Sean was dead.

Or rather, he should be dead by now.

The girl closed her eyes, dispelling the complex emotions within her. When she opened them again, her voice had regained its cold edge, "Have your people go."

The person on the other end clearly paused. "Didn't you say it was too late?"

"It's too late to save him, but..." A fierce glint flashed in the girl's eyes, "we can kill."

Refusing an organization's call was a matter that could be big or small. If they were serious, severe punishment could be meted out according to the internal rules of the Witch Hunters. This was a good opportunity to prune the wings of her enemies, and she wouldn't let it pass.

It was also a way to avenge Sean.

"Have your people rush over as fast as possible, with as much fanfare as possible. They should appear anxious, so those people know they've messed up something big," the girl instructed. She wanted to put on a complete show, letting those Witch Hunters die "knowingly."

"Okay," the other side agreed.

The girl hung up the phone.

Sean's image flashed in her mind, and she unconsciously bit her lip.

She and Sean had only met twice. They were mere acquaintances, with no deep feelings between them, not even ordinary friends. The last time Sean had asked for her name, she hadn't even told him. Yet, despite such a shallow, unfamiliar relationship, she still felt sad about Sean's death.

It would have been better if she hadn't known him. Now that she did, she couldn't pretend nothing had happened.

She could never turn a blind eye to the tragedies happening around her.

Undoubtedly, she was not a qualified spectator.

Therefore, she chose to leap from the stands and do her best to end this brutal farce.

"Knock, knock, knock."

Someone knocked on the hotel room door.

The young woman composed herself and said, "Come in."

The visitor was the woman who had appeared beside the young woman after Sean left the Void Arts Space. She had partnered with the young woman for many years and could tell at a glance that she was in a bad mood, easily guessing the outcome.

"Was it too late?"

"Not too late," the young woman replied. "Those Witch Hunters won't leave the Black Berry Rainforest that quickly."

If she couldn't get out before dark today, she would never get out.

The woman heard the implication in her words—Sean was dead. She sighed and comforted her, "It's not your fault, you did your best."

In this terrible world, countless Wizards were imprisoned and slaughtered. No one could protect everyone.

It would have been best to save Sean, but there was no need to blame herself if she couldn't. After all, the same things were happening every moment in places they couldn't see.

"I'm not blaming myself," the young woman said forcefully. "I warned him, but he didn't listen. He deserves to die."

The woman smiled and didn't call her out.

The young woman disliked that look and changed the subject. "Did you need something?"

"No, I just came to remind you not to forget tonight's Dawn Meeting," the woman said.

"Don't worry," the young woman replied. "He's not important enough for me to forget important matters."

"Let's go, have a meal, and then we'll head back to the Void Arts Space."

The Dawn Meeting was held in the Void Arts Space. It was still early, so she didn't need to rush, but she didn't want to stay in the hotel waiting for news. Otherwise, she'd be unable to stop herself from thinking about how miserably the man she found somewhat attractive had died.

Instead of wasting time on an idiot who handed himself over to the enemy, it was better to return to the Void Arts Space and meditate.

At this moment, Sean was, in the young woman's eyes, already a dead man.

But what she never expected was for this "dead man" to "come back to life."

The Void Arts Space had rules similar to memory anchors. When a Wizard returned to reality, they would re-enter the Void Arts Space in the same location. So, after she and the woman had a meal and rested for a while, when they entered the Void Arts Space again, they were greeted by the familiar street.

And a familiar smiling face—

Sean, who should have been riddled with bullet holes, was now intact, looking at her with a smile.

"Good afternoon, Miss Flame Crow. I've been waiting for you."

The young woman: "???"

"Sean?!"

She widened her eyes in disbelief. "You're not dead??"

Sean tilted his head. "Did you want me to die?"

The woman beside the young woman also parted her red lips in shock, thinking she was hallucinating.

How could a Newborn Wizard, who had just learned to meditate and gain Magic from the Spring of Enlightenment, survive an entire squad of Witch Hunters?

"How did you escape?"

Just as Sean was about to quickly fabricate a story, a man suddenly ran over and answered the question for him.

It was the person the young woman had spoken with earlier.

After receiving the young woman's order, he had immediately notified everyone and prepared to personally lead a team to the Black Berry Rainforest.

This kind of matter needed to be handled cleanly; he didn't trust anyone else.

But by the time he had gathered his men and was about to depart, news had already come back from the other side. He called the young woman immediately to tell her, but no one answered. Guessing she had gone to the Void Arts Space, he looked for her there.

"We found out why we couldn't contact you," he said.

Winster hadn't had his phone stolen, nor was he intentionally ignoring calls.

He simply couldn't answer.

The man glanced at Sean. Seeing that the young woman didn't stop him, he took a deep breath, suppressed his shock, and said in a steady voice, "Including the temporary caregivers, a total of 27 people, and 43 Smell Crows... are all dead."

The entire hunting party that entered the Black Berry Rainforest was annihilated. Not a single crow survived.

The two women: "??!"