Chapter 642

A Man in Marvel, Working for the System

The Shapeshifter was at the scene, observing the many faces of humanity and enjoying the pleasure of playing people in the palm of his hand.

He spotted two girls in the crowd: Nancy and Claire.

Where was that man? He remembered shooting him several times last time, yet he had seemed completely unharmed.

He had been here just moments ago.

The Shapeshifter frowned slightly. He excelled at taking on other people's appearances, launching sneak attacks, stirring up conflict, and manipulating human hearts.

As for brute force, he was only mediocre. He could handle two or three ordinary unarmed people at most.

But the Shapeshifter was not too worried.

The last time Geralt had seen through him, he believed it was because he had transformed too hastily and his disguise had not been perfect enough.

Watching Thompson deliver his mournful "speech" at the entrance to the police station, the Shapeshifter began to grow irritated.

—Why hadn't the Mitchell Family shown up yet?

Wasn't their belief an eye for an eye, blood for blood?!

Damn it!

The Shapeshifter reached toward the holster at his waist. If the Mitchell Family did not appear, then he would create chaos himself.

With that thought, the Shapeshifter quietly opened his holster.

His hand was already gripping the gun.

"Found you."

Suddenly.

A voice that made the Shapeshifter's hair stand on end came from behind him. He whipped around and saw Geralt standing there with a glass bottle in hand.

An unknown liquid splashed toward him.

The Shapeshifter was drenched in it.

"Ah!"

As if acid had been poured over him, the Shapeshifter clutched his face and screamed.

Geralt kicked him in the lower back.

The Shapeshifter flew forward and landed in front of the crowd.

The incident happened