The corner of Klein's mouth twitched. His feelings were complicated; he clearly hadn't expected this to happen.
This... if I said I wasn't aiming at you at all, and you ran into the shot yourself, would anyone believe me?
But the thought vanished as quickly as it came. Without hesitation, he pulled the trigger again, aiming at the easiest part of his opponent to hit-the torso.
Never mind why that Clown in the tailcoat was so unlucky. Now was the time to kick him while he was down!
Before Klein's gunshot rang out, the two Nighthawks who had already moved back toward the others pulled their triggers even faster, with Lenna following close behind.
Several muffled bangs rang out as silver demon-hunting bullets tore through the air together.
But the bullets never struck the tailcoated Clown on the ground. Before they reached him, a grayish-white mass had filled the "open" doorway, spilling out to engulf his former position.
The demon-hunting bullets pierced straight through the grayish-white mass along their original trajectories, but they neither stopped that "color" from surging outward nor left wounds that leaked fluid.
No, there were wounds after all.
Facing the warehouse entrance, Klein held his breath. He keenly noticed a little thick fluid of the same color dripping to the ground from the edges of the grayish-white mass spilling out of the warehouse. It writhed with a sizzling sound, turning into several plump, milky-white maggots.
However, those pale, fat maggots quickly wriggled back into the mass, leaving no apparent wounds.
Shit, it could heal itself too?
Klein silently cursed it as a "shit monster." Suddenly, he glimpsed some barely discernible scraps of the same color scattered where the maggots had crawled. Some were even drifting through the air.
Were those... scraps of paper?
His gaze didn't