With adrenaline still flooding his system, Mulan's muscles continued to tremble slightly. He steadied his breathing and looked down at the lifeless Mad Killer on the floor. Only after crouching down and checking repeatedly that the man was truly dead did he finally let out a deep breath of relief.
Mulan had never intended to capture this Mad Killer and bring him to trial. From the start, he had planned to kill him outright. Being targeted by a lunatic like this was simply too dangerous. Plenty of television plots involved men like him being arrested, only to escape from prison and seek revenge.
Mulan reached down and picked up the Ring of Light, checking once more that it still held three bullets. Judging by the killer's reaction before he died, he had been unable to use the gun. It seemed the Ring of Light really did possess a will of its own.
Then Mulan picked up the Sword Cane and returned his gaze to the corpse at his feet. When he concentrated, he could vaguely see a black, smoke-like substance spreading around the body. As he examined the smoke more closely, he had the faint impression that the attic was growing darker.
"Ugh... no... ah..."
A shrill, horrifying voice seemed to rise from somewhere near the corpse, sounding as though it was filled with fear. Strangely, it seemed both close at hand and impossibly distant, and it made his hair stand on end.
Mulan shook his head, and everything dispersed as though it had been an illusion. The corpse was still a corpse, the attic still an attic, and the killer's blood was slowly seeping out.
What had just happened probably hadn't been an illusion. Mulan immediately thought of the Otherworld and Father Evan's warning.
Don't observe the Otherworld. At least, not yet.
Thud, thud, thud, thud...
Footsteps came from the stairs, slowing as they approached the attic. The armed Valentine detective and police officers climbed one careful step at a time, tension written all over their faces.
The attic had gone silent. They had no idea what was happening.
"Mr. Jonester... sir, are you there?"
"Mulan?"
In the attic, Mulan gathered himself and calmed his overstimulated body. Then he slowly stood and addressed the nervous police officers at the stairway in an even voice.
"It's all right now. The criminal has been shot dead. Come on up."
Hearing Mulan's voice, the Valentine police officers, who had come close to the attic but hadn't dared climb the last four or five steps, immediately sighed with relief. The detective led the way up.
Only when they entered the attic and saw the Mad Killer lying in a pool of blood did everyone finally relax completely.
He was a somewhat thin man with prominent cheekbones and stubble on his chin. His fingers were long, with large knuckles, and looked immensely strong. Despite the cold weather, he wore very little.
Even with a large hole blown through his forehead, even in death, the killer's eyes remained open in an unyielding stare. Facing nothing more than his corpse, the officers could still feel that terrifying pressure.
Terrifying, cold, cruel, deranged...
That was everyone's immediate impression, and it was the truth.
The man who had fought this terrifying criminal, whose case could practically serve as a police training lesson, stood just a step beyond the corpse, a pistol in each hand and a silver-handled cane tucked under his arm.
Facing such a powerful enemy had been extremely dangerous, but now that the man was dead, the sight of his corpse hardly stirred Mulan, who had lived through a brutal war. He handed the black pistol to the detective as the latter cautiously entered the attic.
"This is the pistol he used. There should also be a rifle in the house where I was first attacked today. I kicked his knife away. It may have fallen out the window onto the street."
The detective accepted the pistol very carefully, then looked at Mulan again. There were signs of a bullet passing through the clothing at his shoulder, and the cut on his face was still bleeding.
"Mr. Jonester, how bad are your injuries?"
As the adrenaline in his body subsided, the excitement faded and the pain intensified. Mulan's left shoulder burned, but he had already established that the bullet had merely grazed him, leaving a cut. It wasn't serious.
"It's fine. A bandage will do. Hmm, I recommend performing an autopsy on this killer. His physical abilities were ridiculously strong!"
Mulan said this as he thought things over, unaware that the detective beside him had looked from the corpse to Mulan and swallowed, thinking, You're not much different!
If Mulan could have heard the detective's thoughts, he would certainly have explained that his marksmanship had put considerable pressure on the killer, who had also been more seriously wounded. The strain on the two of them had been nothing alike.
But now Mulan didn't want to say anything else. He was exhausted. All he wanted was to go home, eat a dinner prepared by Old Buck, and get some rest.
Rumble...
The rain outside was still heavy, and thunder had begun rolling again. Lightning shone into the dim attic, illuminating the corpse's face and making it look even more hideous.
"All right, I'll leave this to you. I'm going home."
"Uh, Mr. Jonester..."
"I need to go home and treat my wounds. If you have any questions, you can send someone to my house, or we can talk tomorrow."
When the detective raised no objection, Mulan stepped over the corpse and headed downstairs.
There were police officers downstairs too, but they now knew the killer was dead and had relaxed considerably. When Mulan reached the ground floor, the man of the house had yet to wake up, while his wife would never wake again.
Mulan glanced at the woman, whose dress was largely stained red, and briefly closed his eyes. Following the local custom, he murmured a few words.
"May the Holy Light redeem your soul."
As Mulan made his way down, every officer instinctively moved aside, watching him with awe. He stopped at the door and looked at the torrential rain outside, then glanced at his wounded shoulder. Finally, he pulled up his raincoat's hood and stepped into the rain.
The moment he stepped out of the house, the Valentine Daily reporters, who would do anything for a story, also rushed outside with astonishing speed.
The first reporter had already spotted Mulan inside the doorway from a distance. Seeing that he was about to leave, the reporter threw off the rain cover, raised his expensive camera, and took a picture, heedless of the damage the rain might cause.
Snap!
The flash flared amid sulfur-scented smoke, freezing the moment Mulan pulled up his hood and stepped into the rain. Mulan glanced at the reporter and quickly walked away, thinking about his original reason for going out.
Where had those two boys and that woman who might be a Siren gone?
Not long after Mulan left, several police officers went outside to search for the killer's Boning Knife. But standing water covered much of the street, making the search considerably harder.
A man in a gentleman's formal attire appeared on the street, holding a black umbrella. He bent down and reached his white-gloved hand into the standing water. After feeling around briefly, he picked up a sharp, pointed Boning Knife.
"Officers, is this what you're looking for?"
"Looks like it. Hey, is this the knife?"
"It should be!"
The officers weren't entirely certain themselves, but they accepted the knife anyway. Its appearance more or less matched Mulan's description. The man with the umbrella left after handing it over. Apart from that exchange, he seemed to have escaped the officers' notice entirely.
"Mulan Jonester, was it?"
The gentleman murmured to himself, a slight smile appearing on his face.