The Times Have Changed, Sir! Who Still Uses Cold Weapons Without Superpowers?

Edward held Jennifer around the waist, his steps never faltering, the smile on his face remaining as gentle as ever.

As though, after that kiss, he had become immersed in boundless love and happiness, losing all vigilance toward everything around him.

Only he knew that a cold killing intent was slowly rising within him.

Two flies that don't know their place. They really picked their moment. Edward snorted inwardly.

His mental power was like an invisible radar, having already scanned everything inside that black sedan with perfect clarity.

Two people, a man and a woman. Their heart rates, breathing rhythms, and that undisguised malice that was nearly tangible all fed back clearly into his mind.

He was familiar with this feeling. It was not the greed of ordinary criminals driven by money, nor the ruthlessness of gangsters fighting over territory. This was a twisted madness that took pure pleasure in the pain and death of others.

Like... a predator locking onto its prey.

"Master?" Jennifer sensed Edward's body stiffen for an instant. She looked up at him and asked with concern.

"It's nothing, darling." Edward lowered his head and kissed her forehead, speaking casually. "I was just thinking that the moon is so beautiful tonight. It would be a shame to go straight home. How about we take a walk by the river? It's quieter there."

Jennifer did not think much of it. Right now, her eyes and heart were filled entirely with the man beside her, so naturally, whatever he said went.

Seeing the two of them change direction and head toward the more secluded riverside park, Bob let out an excited, suppressed chuckle from inside the black sedan.

"Oh, look at that, look at that! My dear, how cooperative he is! He even chose the stage for us himself!" Bob turned the steering wheel, following them at an unhurried pace like an elegant gentleman.

"He must have sensed it too, sensed our pursuit of 'art.'

"He's taking his companion to the most magnificent feast of death!"

The woman in the passenger seat lightly ran a finger painted with bright red nail polish across her lips, her breathing growing rapid.

"I can't wait, Bob. I can smell the fragrance of youth on them. It will be the most perfect paint for our masterpiece."

"It will, darling. Everything will be perfect." Bob's voice was as gentle as a lover's whisper, yet every word carried bone-chilling coldness.

Edward led Jennifer all the way to the riverbank.

This place was far from the main road. Only a few dim streetlights glowed lonely in the night wind.

The river shimmered beneath the moonlight, and the rushing water masked the distant clamor of the city.

It truly was a fine place for murder and dumping bodies.

Edward stopped walking.

At almost the same moment, the black sedan silently came to a stop by the roadside not far away.

The doors opened, and Bob and his wife stepped out.

Both of them had changed into tight black outfits, and they wore deathly pale masks over their faces.

The masks bore no expression. There were only two enormous hollow hearts painted in black, positioned directly over the eyes.

Through those heart-shaped holes, nothing could be seen but bottomless darkness.

"Good evening, you two." Bob's voice came through the mask, somewhat muffled yet carrying a theatrical lilt. "My apologies for interrupting your date.

"But please believe me, what comes next will be far more 'unforgettable' than anything you have done before."

Jennifer's body instantly tensed.

Only now did she finally understand that Edward had brought her here not to take a walk.

A faint sulfurous scent belonging to a demon began to spread from her body.

"Master..."

"Stand behind me." Edward's voice was not loud, but it carried an unquestionable command. "Two clowns want to put on an extra show for us. We'll leave after we watch."

He gently shielded Jennifer behind him, then stepped forward and studied the two freaks wearing heart-shaped masks with interest.

"Artists?" Edward suddenly asked.

Bob and his wife were visibly taken aback, seemingly not expecting their target to be so calm, much less immediately see through their "identities."

"Oh? So you're no ordinary lamb." Bob's tone was full of delight. "That's right, we are artists. And you two will become our most perfect work—Moonlit Lovers' Death."

"At the moment you are most in love, most happy, we'll use each other's blood to paint an everlasting flower of love beneath this moonlight! How romantic! How magnificent!" The woman spread her arms as though embracing a masterpiece about to be born.

"Are you done?" Edward picked at his ear, his face full of impatience. "Your lines are long and stink. The main point is that you want to kill us, right? Could you be professional and get on with it? I have an early class tomorrow."

"You...!" The woman was enraged by Edward's flippant attitude.

Bob raised a hand to stop her, then cackled. "Interesting, far too interesting! Resist! Struggle! The more pain you feel, the more soul our masterpiece will have!"

The moment he finished speaking, the two of them simultaneously drew two gleaming daggers from behind their backs, each over a foot long. The daggers were exquisitely designed, with red gemstones embedded in their hilts that glinted with bloodthirsty light beneath the moon.

They stepped forward, one from the left and one from the right, closing in on Edward and Jennifer.

"Master, let me tear them apart!" Jennifer growled. Her nails had already turned sharp and black.

"No, don't dirty your hands." Edward pressed a hand to her shoulder, a teasing smile appearing on his face. "To deal with primitives living in the last century, we need modern methods."

He turned to face the two "artists" advancing step by step and let out a theatrical sigh.

"Tell me, you two, what era do you think this is? You're still playing with knives?"

Bob and the woman paused, unable to understand what he meant.

The next second, they understood.

Edward flicked both hands through the air, and two enormous handguns with exaggerated designs and a sci-fi aesthetic instantly appeared in his hands.

One was pitch-black, its body engraved with intricate golden patterns. The other was ivory-white, its sleek lines elegant and deadly.

Ebony and Ivory!

The two guns had appeared so abruptly, so unreasonably, that they completely exceeded the understanding of the two killers.

The heart-shaped masks on their faces looked incomparably ridiculous at that moment.

The... times have changed? The thought instinctively surfaced in Bob's mind.

"Correct. Too bad there's no prize."

Edward's voice was ice-cold, without a trace of emotion.

Bang! Bang!

Two crisp yet heavy gunshots exploded across the silent riverbank, startling a flock of resting waterfowl.

The bullets pierced straight through the centers of the two heart-shaped masks, their tremendous force blowing away the backs of their heads entirely.

Red and white fluids, mixed with fragments of skull, splattered behind them, forming a truly bloody piece of "performance art."

The two bodies fell stiffly backward, their daggers clattering onto the ground, never to make another sound.

From the moment they drew their daggers to the moment they became corpses, the entire process took less than five seconds.

So-called artists, so-called perfect works—before absolute firepower, they were nothing but a joke.

Jennifer poked her head out from behind Edward and looked at the two corpses lying in pools of blood, her face full of disdain.

"That's it? And you call yourselves artists?" She walked forward and nudged Bob's corpse with the tip of her high heel. "What two hopeless idiots."

Edward returned Ebony and Ivory to the system storage space, walked to Jennifer's side, drew her into his arms, and gently patted her back to soothe the emotions stirred up moments earlier.

"All right, the trash has been cleared and the show is over." He lowered his head and kissed Jennifer's hair. "Let's go home. Aren't you meeting Maria to go shopping tomorrow?"

As though he had merely crushed two ants beneath his foot, his emotions did not waver in the slightest.

The next morning.

The city television station's morning news was broadcasting.

"Police discovered two bodies at the western riverside park early this morning.

"Preliminary identification has confirmed that the deceased are Bob and Cynthia, the couple responsible for multiple recent murders and known to the media as the Valentine's Day Killers.

"According to the initial investigation, both died of gunshot wounds to the head. Two murder weapons, daggers, were found at the scene, but no firearms were discovered.

"Police initially speculate that the pair may have turned on each other over an uneven division of spoils or some other reason, ultimately killing one another.

"The specific details of the case remain under further investigation..."

In the Connor Household dining room, Edward leisurely ate a sandwich Lily had prepared while reading the news alert on his phone.

When he saw the words "Valentine's Day Killers Kill Each Other" in the headline, the corner of his mouth could not help curling upward.

"Brother, what's so funny?" Lily asked curiously as she set a glass of milk in front of him.

Edward put down his phone, picked up the milk, and took a sip. "Nothing. I just saw two clowns put on a terrible comedy."