Under the pitch-black night sky.
Under the smoky night sky.
The brilliant glow flickered once more.
The old knight once again streaked across the heavens.
Standing in front of the office window, Tercon had long since taken off his restricting coat and donned a cloak instead, watching as the old knight, transformed into radiance, approached him, the former mayor’s eyes filled with surprise.
The voice fades away, traceless.
People lifted their heads, gazing into the pitch-black night sky.
There was nothing there.
Yet it felt as though something was present.
And just as everyone looked up at the night sky, a figure leisurely walked into Pea Street, entering Number 10 Pea Street.
All of them turned a blind eye to this person.
Allowing the figure to head towards the underground hall.
Walking on the stairs, the wide cloak trailed on the ground, slipping off with the figure’s descent.
The light-hearted whistling carried the figure’s good mood.
“Night, night, has arrived.”
“The black lamb has started to dance.”
“He’s come, he’s come.”
Instantly, the brightly lit underground hall darkened.
A sense of decay and desolation filled the space.
Though it returned to normal in a flash, Jason, with his senses twice as acute as an ordinary person’s, noticed the change.
He stepped out of the tent.
At a glance, he saw the person standing at the entrance of the hall wearing a wide cloak that completely obscured their face.
The other also saw Jason.
“Very acute perception.”
“Worthy of the ‘Night Watcher’.”
“But sometimes, if the perception is too sensitive, it’s not a good thing, Jason.”
The other person called out Jason’s name directly.
He simply raised the ‘Winchester Brothers’ slightly, pointing the muzzle at the other.
“As crude as your mentor.”
The other glanced at the muzzle, offered this comment, and then took a step closer.
The shotgun’s shell missed.
Or to be precise, the other dodged it.
Jason’s pupils constricted.
Although the threat of firearms for folk from the Mystical Side had decreased, most would just endure the hit, but this was Jason’s first time seeing someone from the Mystical Side who dodged bullets directly.
“Kultz is truly pitiable.”
“If he hadn’t been so bent on revenge, how could he have died by your hand?”
“Jason, I want to ask you a question.”
“Do you think Kultz was right or wrong?”
The other spoke while walking slowly.
This person was Kultz’s teacher!
Jason’s eyes narrowed slightly, not hiding his murderous intent.
“Kultz was neither right nor wrong.”
“You, who arranged all this, deserve to die!”
He said in a low snarl.
“Just like your mentor.”
“And such stubbornness in you surely means that you won’t let me take the ‘spoils of war’ easily, will you?”
The other chuckled lightly.
The body of the old Knight?
Jason immediately tightened his grip on the gun handle.
He shifted his feet slightly, positioning his body fully in the way of the path leading into the tent.
He knew nothing of the people here.
The local customs here.
All he was doing was trying to survive.
Yet, the body of the old Knight, he would not allow the person before him to defile it.
It was very dangerous.
It could even threaten his life.
But, Jason still chose to do so.
Because, some things, if you see them and pretend you don’t…
There’s no point in being alive.