With ease, he severed the shadowy humanoid at the waist. The evil spirit let out a despairing wail and completely dissipated into the air, leaving behind only a faint, burnt smell.
The eerie hoarse whispers and bone-chilling cold vanished in an instant.
"That's it?"
Sam lowered his gun and looked at Dean in disbelief, then at the utterly ordinary dagger in his hand.
Dean excitedly inspected the dagger. Its blade was completely undamaged, even seeming slightly brighter than before.
"Lohr, Sam, did you see that? That was so cool! It was like enchanting a knife—it's practically as good as the demon-killing gun, and this thing can be reused over and over."
Wu Heng stepped closer, glanced at where the evil spirit had vanished, and said flatly, "You've only just started adapting. The energy you channeled was still crude. You wasted seventy percent of it. Practice more, and the results will improve."
Despite being told it was "crude," Dean was still beside himself with excitement.
This was the first time he had dealt with an evil spirit so cleanly and decisively using only his own power, without relying on special weapons or incantations, without salt or frantic dodging.
The feeling was unprecedentedly good.
This was what a demon hunter was supposed to be!
What kind of miserable life had they been living before?
While the Winchester Brothers were busy testing their new abilities and tracking clues about the seal, a small-town police station hundreds of miles away received a visitor under cover of night.
She was a little girl of around seven or eight, dressed in a clean little dress, sweet and adorable in appearance.
She walked alone into the station's duty office.
The elderly officer on duty set down his coffee. The moment he saw her, his previously expressionless face