Arthur picked up Pendragon, placed the whisker into the test tube from earlier, then packed it all into the [Athos Box]. He said with a smile,
"What a wonderful day!"
A wonderful day?
Maltz offered no comment.
Looking at the corpses strewn everywhere, Scott could not help scratching his head.
Andy had exhausted himself and fallen asleep with his long flintlock in his arms.
Dico was grimacing in pain, but his greatest worry was whether the scar on his face would frighten his daughter.
Of the six patrol officers, Rooney and Simon were still alive.
Like Simon, Rooney was injured, and he was now leaning against a wall, groaning.
Simon was much luckier. As Andy's loader, he had suffered only a few scrapes.
Naturally, the task of contacting the police station fell to Simon.
Before Simon set off, however, Maltz stopped him-
"Hey, catch."
It was a longsword.
The meaning was obvious. With the downpour upon them, flintlocks were useless, and visibility for shooting arrows was obscured as well. A longsword was the best choice.
"Understood!"
Simon caught the longsword and hurried out.
"Is there any alcohol, gauze, or medicine to stop bleeding in the villa?"
Scott questioned the middle-aged butler. Feeling that he had contributed nothing to the battle, the young reporter wanted to do his part now-he had a short flintlock and had fired it, but missed. Instead, he had hit his target by throwing the weapon.
"Yes, in the private physician's room on the second floor."
The middle-aged butler pointed to a room upstairs but did not lead the way.
Having survived the disaster, he wanted nothing more than to rest.
He was even considering returning to his hometown the next day. The city was simply too dangerous.
Seeing the servants and attendants, nearly all dead or