"Then there's nothing left to discuss." Viper sheathed his dagger and rose to his feet. "Your Excellency Angel, make yourself at home. But without our help, you'd better be much more careful operating in this area..."
"The Guild has technology, and they have sharp noses. And Bartholomew's lunatics—I hear they've been very active around here lately."
It was a naked threat.
Gadriel left the inn, feeling as though every step sank into a swamp.
They seemed to have fallen into a vicious cycle.
Without dealing with these dark forces and rebels, it was difficult to obtain the resources and crucial intelligence needed for survival. But once they did make deals, they would inevitably be drawn into their crimes, making things easier for them and even becoming accomplices.
And tragedy soon proved it in blood.
A week later, Pine Needle Town in Idaho, a town centered on logging and mining, was raided by a Werewolf tribe on a dark, windy night.
The attack went exceptionally smoothly. For some reason, the town's rudimentary warning formation on its outskirts had failed in advance, while several experienced but nonprofessional locals hired for defense were precisely lured away or assassinated when the attack began.
The Werewolves stormed into town and rampaged through the night, killing thirty-seven people, injuring over a hundred, and looting vast quantities of supplies.
The surviving townspeople tearfully claimed that before the attack, they had seen "faintly glowing figures" moving about on the mountain behind the town.
The same thing happened in a remote ranching community in Montana. Viper's rebel Demon Hunter squad launched a nighttime raid, seizing the food and medicine the community depended on to survive the winter and killing seven residents who tried to resist.
Afterward, residents who had narrowly escaped reported their findings to passing Guild Demon Hunters: