This might hurt a little

Everyone froze in fright. For a moment, the thugs did not know whether to run or shoot-she seemed impervious to bullets, and she moved as fast as a bird in flight.

But Vanessa paid attention to everything around her. She slowly crouched beside the man's corpse, utterly unconcerned as blood soaked the hem of her trench coat.

"I'm a rotten person..." Her voice was unusually calm, as though stating a fact that had nothing to do with her. "Cowardly, hypocritical, selfish... I should have died long ago, many times over."

"But I was lucky. I knew someone truly kind. She saved me and let me live until now."

Vanessa chuckled softly, as though reminiscing.

"You know, you were actually lucky too. She's right here. She should have stepped forward to stop me, gently reasoned with me, taught me what forgiveness was, and saved you just as she saved me."

"But she's dead."

"That left me in a bind. I can't think for myself, and I didn't know what to do."

"So I sent you to meet her, to let her decide whether to forgive your soul."

"Good luck." Vanessa gently patted the man's shattered head, then withdrew her blood-covered hand.

She rambled on, as though chatting with an old friend.

The people around her looked at her as though she were a monster. The thugs had long since lost their nerve and wanted to slip away, only to be forced back by the gathering crowd.

When they saw Vanessa turn her gaze toward them, they immediately screamed in terror, "Monster! Y-you stay away!!"

Vanessa stood. Her hand moved on its own, picking up the shotgun and aiming it at a thug's head.

The will controlling her was about to pull the trigger, but of her own volition, she lowered the muzzle two inches, turning it toward the man's leg.

That will did not fight her for control. Upon sensing her intentions, it relinquished control instead.

"Thank you, my Lord."

Vanessa pulled the trigger.

Click.

It was out of ammunition.

"Looks like you're not very lucky." Vanessa sighed. Gripping the long shotgun in both hands, she gave it a couple of practice swings like a club and nodded in satisfaction.

"This might hurt a little."

"Doctor Norman! Please, come quickly!"

A scrawny man dragged an injured leg as he desperately squeezed through the crowd. He had barely shouted before several people who had volunteered to maintain order stopped him.

"What are you doing?!"

"Don't disturb Mr. Norman while he's operating!"

"If you're hurt, get in line! Plenty of people are worse off than you!"

Without letting him explain, they moved to haul him away.

"Doctor Norman!" The man's voice cracked with urgency as he struggled desperately and shouted, "Your assistant! And Miss Crow! They're fighting the hospital's corpse collection crew! Hurry and save them! It'll be too late if you don't!"

"What?!" Norman jerked his head up, nearly dropping the bandage in his hands. He hurried forward. "What happened?!"

"The thugs with those corpse carts thought we were blocking the road. The nurse and Miss Crow went to reason with them for us... Then the nurse saw her friend on the cart... and... and they started fighting!"

The man's eyes reddened with anxiety. As soon as the people restraining him let go, he fell to his knees. "Please, kind sir, hurry and save them! There are only two of them, and those animals all have guns! They really will shoot!"

Bang!

As if to prove his words, a piercing gunshot rang out nearby!

Frantic, the man turned and ran toward the gunshot as fast as his limp allowed!

Norman went deathly pale and started after him, but after two steps, he abruptly stopped and looked back at the wounded man whose abdomen was still seeping blood, watching him pleadingly.

"Go, Mr. Norman!" the helpers beside him immediately shouted. "He only needs bandaging. We've learned how from watching you! We can do it!"

"All right! I'll be right back!" Norman hesitated no longer. He turned and ran.

Several Wild Dog Gang members nearby exchanged glances, grabbed whatever makeshift weapons they could find-wooden clubs, iron bars, daggers-and sprang to their feet.

"Any pups still breathing! Get over here! Feeding time!"

By the time Doctor Norman anxiously rounded the broken wall at the street corner, a large crowd was following him.

Wild Dog Gang members, Harbor District residents, poor souls who had lost loved ones... Even a few half-grown children clutched slingshots, peeking out from the mouth of an alley.

Doctor Norman also slipped a hand into a hidden pocket in his clothes and gripped a shard of bone.

He looked ahead, only to find the way packed solid with people, with occasional cheers rising from the crowd.

Huh? Cheers?

Norman's heart lurched-Was it already over?!

At the thought of Vanessa giving up the chance to search for Winnie immediately and choosing to stay and help the wounded, Norman felt as though his heart had been viciously squeezed.

He could spare no thought for anything else and desperately pushed his way in.

"Make way! I'm Norman! I'm a doctor!!"

People moved to either side, opening a path.

As Norman pushed through, he shouted himself hoarse. "Stop! Stop right now!! I'm from the hospital! Don't hurt them!!"

"Stop! Stop now!!"

"Quick... huh?"

The view before him suddenly opened up.

Vanessa was swinging the shotgun, its barrel already bent, and smashing it down. Hearing the shouts from outside, she immediately looked up.

"Reinforcements from the hospital?"

She licked her lips and went to meet them, then discovered to her disappointment that it was Doctor Norman.

Norman and the Wild Dog Gang members, who had just arrived so fiercely, all froze in place.

"Vanessa... you're all right?"

Before him lay a scene of utter devastation. The hospital thugs lay on the ground like torn sacks, their limbs bent at grotesque angles, occasionally twitching in pain.

In front of the flatbed wagon, a fat man in a filthy white coat lay in a pool of blood, a gunshot in his skull and red and white matter splattered everywhere.

For a moment, Vanessa did not know how to explain.

"Isn't that Caldwell from the Administration Department?" Norman sucked in a cold breath, pointing at the corpse in shock. "H-how did he die...?"

An awkward silence immediately fell over the scene.

Someone shouted, "His gun just went off by accident!"

"Y-yes! I saw it!"

"He shot himself! I'll testify!"

"It had absolutely nothing to do with the nurse!"

"That's right, we all saw it!"

Everyone began shouting over one another.

Vanessa hurriedly tossed the long-barreled shotgun beside Caldwell's corpse. Quite a bit of blood still clung to its bent barrel.

Norman looked at the shotgun, nearly as tall as a person, then at the short, fat Caldwell. His face twitched, but in the end, he said nothing.

The Wild Dog Gang members asked roughly what had happened, and the way they looked at Vanessa changed. She and Miss Crow had taken out the entire corpse cart escort by themselves?