Anvil Town's night was very peaceful. Though beneath it lay a giant cesspit and Biogas Pool, meaning everyone was effectively sleeping atop tens of thousands of tons of TNT, no one knew, so everyone lived quite peacefully.
The population was a little sparse, but the other end of town bordered the highway, and large trucks passed through from time to time. There were quite a few businesses here serving passing drivers.
Bars, supermarkets, motels, streetwalkers, and so on.
The cheap roadside inns existed to serve such people. For ten or twenty US Dollars, they could stay the night. As long as there was a television, hot water, a bed, and a door, that was enough. A three-story building with around a dozen rooms could open for business.
Such motels did not require identification. Or rather, anyone could check in under a fake name, which greatly accommodated married people having affairs, as well as drug dealers or kidnappers waiting for a deal.
That was why all sorts of dark incidents happened there. As long as guests paid enough for their rooms, no one cared even if they died inside.
But that did not mean good people never came here. Today was one such case: two angels had checked in.
One was tall and skinny, the other short and fat. They sat side by side in the room, listening without expression to the men and women next door howling like ghosts, though both their eyes were filled with worry.
"We failed. A vampire was following that priest. We couldn't beat him."
The fat man sat properly on the edge of the bed, his hands resting separately on his knees as he calmly analyzed the reason for their failure.
After dying once, they had not rushed to act again. Instead, they felt they