The Western District Subjugation - 9
Ellyse continued her attempts to determine why Inspector Ellyna was not a demon. She rubbed a silver knife, the natural enemy of demons, against Ellyna’s skin. She whispered hymns she had learned at the old cathedral into her ear. She checked whether horns or a tail—key demonic features—had sprouted from her head or backside. She examined Ellyna’s body from every possible angle and eventually convinced herself that the inspector was human.
So Senior is right after all.
Relieved at last, Ellyse broke into a bright smile. Ellyna Bastard, who had willingly accepted her touch, wore a sly expression as she groped at her own chest and muttered,
The absurd remark made Ellyse Bertman freeze for a moment before she burst into another wide smile. The sheer joy of knowing her senior had survived was overwhelming, and the mental fortitude she had forged through countless hardships was now strong enough to brush off such vulgar teasing. Still, the discomfort was unavoidable; the corners of her mouth twitched intermittently.
Ellyna watched her with a satisfied gaze for a while, then wiped the blood from her face and flashed the same bright smile. She pointed behind her—toward the direction Slain had fled. The entrance door had been completely torn away by Ellyse, leaving a gaping hole.
Inspector Ellyna spoke calmly.
Ellyse stared blankly. She was right. In the rush of shock and relief, she had momentarily forgotten, but she still had an unfinished duty. The final period of this operation. She had to capture Slain Pavlov, the mad scientist who had conducted large-scale human experiments.
Of course, Ellyse knew her body was in no condition to continue. The moment the mission ended, she would need to be hospitalized. Yet too much was at stake. She had to see it through no matter what.
“If it gets too hard, leave it to me and rest,” Ellyna said, winking.
Inspector Ellyse let out a small laugh and replied, “I’m the one who’s going to catch him.”
The inspector willingly accepted her calling. Her blade had snapped in half and her gun was out of ammunition, so she borrowed a pistol from Ellyna. Since Ellyna mainly used knives, there was no concern about reduced firepower, and thanks to that, the magazine was quite full.
Just as they finished preparing to leave the laboratory, Ellyse Bertman remembered another obligation. Ellyna watched quietly as her junior suddenly turned and hurried back with quick steps.
Ellyse Bertman swiftly passed through the laboratory where the fierce battle had taken place moments earlier. Ignoring Thomas’s burst skull, she reached her fallen colleague. Unlike Thomas, who had died instantly, Aidan’s body—half-submerged in a pool of blood—still stared wide-eyed at the ceiling, perhaps because he had suffered until the very end.
With a complicated expression, Ellyse looked down at the final moments of the man who had once looked for a chance to betray her. But in the end, thanks to him she had survived, and he had been her colleague until the last. She bent down and gently closed his eyes.
The inspector offered a short eulogy.
“……Haa…… haa!”
Slain Pavlov gasped harshly as he staggered forward. His usually brilliant mind was dulled by pain today. With every difficult step, blood gushed from the severed stump where his arm had been torn from the shoulder. He clung to life through sheer obsession and superhuman willpower, but at this rate he would either die from shock or bleed out.
……Me? Die?
Slain Pavlov—the great scientist, the guide who would lead humanity into a new era? That would be a catastrophe for the entire human race, beyond any single nation. It was something that must never happen.
……I must survive no matter what.
Slain gritted his teeth, bracing himself against the wall as he crossed the deserted corridor.
……A way to save my body. A way to escape. Whether by mobilizing the on-duty researchers or calling in a specialist surgeon, I need an operation……
After pondering for a long time with a foggy mind, he reached the control room of the east wing. Click. The blood-smeared fingerprint scanner opened the door slowly. Yet Slain did not enter. He simply stood there, staring blankly inside.
The control room was supposed to be permanently staffed by at least one guard, even if the researchers were temporarily absent.
“……What the hell.”
There was no one inside. Only the ceiling lights and the CCTV camera on one wall were still functioning. Every person had vanished without any sign of struggle or reason.
Slain belatedly recalled the empty corridors of the research wing. He had personally informed them he was heading to the laboratory, yet with the sirens blaring and things breaking everywhere, was it even possible that no one had woken up?
……Was the Special Affairs Division only in the laboratory?
But if that was the case, why had he not been arrested yet? The control room was empty but otherwise perfectly tidy. Had the guards quietly left following an officer’s instructions? Were they waiting somewhere to capture him as well—together with the officers who had come to arrest them?
……No, that couldn’t be.
Slain glared at the wall where the CCTV camera was active, his eyes bloodshot. He staggered over to the storage cabinet in the middle of the control room and rummaged through it. He had no time to go to another laboratory; he needed to act immediately.
……Hemostatic agent, antibiotics, mental stimulant, and something to give his body the strength to keep moving. He grabbed the military-grade steroids that contained all those functions—something he would never have touched under normal circumstances.
Thud!
Slain Pavlov injected the drug into his empty forearm. The scientist groaned as he felt his brain surge with stimulation. There would be side effects, but for now he had bought himself time.
……CCTV. What happened to the others?
Having regained some composure, Slain Pavlov slowly walked over to the CCTV controller that monitored the entire laboratory. He soon realized that most of the screens showed empty corridors and rooms. One camera, however, was focused on his masterpiece—the one he had named “Giant No. 1.” He also clearly saw the man dressed entirely in black who had turned that masterpiece into pulp.
The ridiculous man in a cape and skintight suit, whom Slain would have mocked if they had met on the street, was soaked head to toe in blood—both green and red. The image of that violent man overlapped with the completely empty laboratory.
Instinctively, Slain realized that bastard was the root of everything.
At that moment, the man on the screen suddenly lifted his head and looked straight at the CCTV. Though it should have been impossible to see through the lens, their eyes met. The scientist unconsciously stepped back. Cold sweat broke out on his forehead from the pain in his severed arm and an unknown fear.
The question of why everything was going so strangely and the instinctive scream that he must run. Slain Pavlov swallowed hard.
It seemed the time had come to make a decision.
In the end, Slain opened his mouth to call for someone, then closed it again. The laboratory was already ruined. Rather than wasting effort on rebuilding here, it was better to maximize his chances of survival. Slain immediately left the control room.
……I have to run.
The scientist sprinted toward a secret passage that only he knew about.
Suddenly sensing something, Demian looked up at the CCTV and spoke into the empty air.
The answer came immediately.
Ellyse Bertman raced down the corridor at high speed and soon noticed something strange. If she had been Slain, she would have sent guards or other monsters to deal with the intruders the moment she fled. Yet the research wing corridors were lit only by white ceiling lights, with no sign of any presence. It was eerily quiet, even considering the late hour.
Did something go wrong?
She also found it suspicious how Inspector Ellyna seemed to know exactly where Slain was heading and was chasing him without the slightest hesitation. Could someone with her level of experience truly master marksmanship, hand-to-hand combat, Mystery, and tracking all at once?
With that question in mind, she casually tossed the inquiry at the back of Ellyna’s head—how exactly she was tracking him. The answer that came back was something incomprehensible: that she was following him through a method closer to “divination” than tracking or searching.
Wait, how does that even work?
Ellyse’s doubts only multiplied. Then she saw Inspector Ellyna suddenly stop in her tracks. Ellyse halted as well and approached her side.
“What’s wrong?”
“There are two people in the laboratory right now, and their paths have completely split.”
“……Ah.”
“Looks like we’ll have to split up and chase them separately.”
What on earth was she looking at? Ellyna Bastard, staring into empty space with an unusual expression, suddenly smirked. With a meaningful smile, she turned to Ellyse.
Go wherever you want.
After a brief moment of thought, Ellyse Bertman made her choice.
Ellyna Bastard watched her junior’s back rapidly disappearing into the distance and stretched.
Time to get to work.
The cold air of early dawn clung to the visitor as if welcoming him. The man looked up at the still-dark sky and continued walking. When he finally reached the location the demon had designated, he sat down on the stairs for a short rest.
Demian Cloud waited.
He waited only for the new visitor to arrive.