Chapter 912: The Hooked
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 912: The Hooked
"A flaw..."
The priest caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye. He tilted his head slightly, putting on a show of intense focus, as if desperate to hear the answer to the riddle that had plagued him before he died.
However...
"And that flaw is—wait."
Sister Elinde’s explanation cut off abruptly. She gave a sudden sniff and looked down at Krit’s corpse.
"Strange. This scent of blood... why is it so faint?"
Something wasn't right.
She had slit Krit’s throat herself, yet the metallic tang in the air was no stronger than that of a superficial scratch.
Sister Elinde had seen her fair share of horrors to reach her current position; she was keenly sensitive to the density of the scent of blood.
But Krit...
"It’s because of the rain," the priest replied, his expression indifferent. "Why fret over such trifles, Sister? Please, continue where you left off... what is the truth behind these corpses?"
"Is that so?"
"Of course. What other possibility is there?"
"It seems there isn't one. However... you seem to be in quite a hurry, Father." Sister Elinde arched an eyebrow, her tone heavy with implication.
"In a hurry?" the priest asked. "Well, naturally. I am about to die, after all. It’s only right to be anxious."
"And yet, I don't feel that your haste stems from your impending death."
Sister Elinde leaned in close, her forehead nearly touching his, staring intently into the priest's eyes. "I see no fear in your eyes. That is not the gaze of a coward who fears death... On the contrary, I feel a fire burning deep within. What is it? Have you spent decades as a gravekeeper here only to harbor some lingering obsession? Or does this flame mean something else?"
"...Sister, you are being overly cautious."
The priest fell silent for a moment. "I am merely a cripple, a failure cast out by the Church. Fire? Such a thing has nothing to do with me."
"Stop lying. My intuition has always been sharp."
A pale, smooth, yet deathly cold palm brushed against the priest's neck like a venomous snake, ready to snuffed out his life at any moment. "How many people do you think I’ve given psychological counseling to? I can tell exactly what your gaze represents with a single look."
"It seems your vision is indeed keen."
"Naturally," Sister Elinde said with a hint of pride.
"But if that’s the case, why didn't you notice someone standing so close to you?" the priest asked, his face full of feigned confusion.
"What?"
"Sigh."
With a heavy sigh, the priest turned his head to the side, looking toward an empty patch of air as if speaking to someone invisible. "I have to say, kid, your style really doesn't suit a cold-blooded mobster. If you hadn't saved that Saint’s Eye brat, I would have already tricked the answer out of her."
"Can you really blame me? This Saint’s Eye fellow seems like a good guy. I couldn't just sacrifice a good man for the sake of our plan, could I?"
Krit’s corpse on the ground suddenly vanished like a shimmering phantom.
In its place, another figure appeared within the cemetery.
A Slav in a long black trench coat stood beneath a tree, shrugging helplessly at the priest.
"To tell you the truth, I’m actually a very good person."
"Is that so..."
With trembling fingers, the priest fished out a cigarette, lit it, and took a long drag. He exhaled a cloud of smoke directly into Adeline’s face.
"Then, Mr. Good Person, could you perhaps save this old man first? The Sister’s hands are quite chilly. At my age, it’s easy to catch a cold."
"Sure thing."
Muen smiled.
"Coming right up."
Buzz—
Sister Elinde’s pupils constricted.
Before she could even fathom how this stranger had hidden under her nose without her noticing, a violent astral wind swept toward her, stinging her skin.
Holy Light surged, coalescing into a barrier.
But... it was too late.
Before the Holy Light could fully solidify, a hand thrust through the air in front of her.
That hand—and its owner—seemed to appear out of thin air, moving faster than she could construct her defenses.
The Holy Light barrier was utterly useless, as the hand had already reached inside the perimeter.
His fingers curled slightly, like the claws of a beast.
"Thunder Roar."
Sister Elinde heard the man’s whisper, followed immediately by a deafening explosion of thunder.
A terrifying vibration erupted from the center of his palm, expanding like a thunderclap in an instant. The barrier, a beat too slow, failed to provide any protection; instead, it became a springboard for the shockwave to ricochet.
In that split second, Sister Elinde felt as if she had been transformed into a bolt of lightning herself, hurtling through the misty, rainy night to be slammed into the earth.
Literally... slammed.
Boom!
Dust and debris filled the air.
Looking at the cracked ground, Muen flexed his wrist and sighed. "It’s been a while since I used this move purely on its own. I’m a bit rusty; it’s hard to control the strength."
"You brat!"
The priest’s cheek twitched. "My cemetery is very important! If you ruin it, I’ll definitely make trouble for you!"
"Huh? I just saved your life, old man, and I don't even get a thank you?"
"Hmph. Who do you think risked his life to act as bait for you?"
"Fair point..."
Muen scratched his head, took off his hat, and gave a slight bow.
"Then, my thanks."
"No need for thanks. That answer was something I wanted to know as well."
The priest stood up, tucked the scripture back into his coat, and limped over to the old tree where Muen had been standing. He dragged up the heavily injured and unconscious Krit, beginning the arduous trek toward the distant wooden shack.
"I’ll leave the rest to you. A Head Nun of the Church isn't that easy to deal with."
"Yeah, I know. I’ll find you for a drink later, old man."
"Drinking is fine, but bring your own booze."
Though he looked like he was struggling, the priest moved surprisingly fast and soon vanished from sight.
"Stingy."
Muen shook his head, returning his attention to the present.
Under the steady drizzle, the dust settled quickly. Sister Elinde, covered in mud and filth, rose unsteadily to her feet.
She looked disheveled, but her eyes remained calm. She placed a hand over her abdomen, using Holy Light to knit her wounds back together.
"I’m curious. How did you hide?" Sister Elinde asked.
"Just two small tricks working together to become one decent trick. Nothing worth mentioning." Muen smiled as the inconspicuous specks of light and electrical arcs around him finally dissipated.
"An ultimate move you're unwilling to disclose? I see."
Adeline nodded solemnly, looking as though she accepted her loss.
"No... it really was just a small trick."
Muen spread his hands helplessly. He was being sincere, yet people never seemed to believe him.
"We’ve already come this far, why bother being secretive? Ah, but of course... for someone like you who wears a mask, secrecy is the norm."
Sister Elinde straightened her back, the wound on her abdomen completely healed.
"I was careless. I never expected that after a lifetime of fishing, I’d end up having my face slapped by a fish’s tail."
"Fish?"
"Yes, fish. You are all fish, trapped in a pond, blissfully unaware of your approaching end. Pitiful and pathetic."
"Well now, Sister," Muen tilted his head, a strange expression on his face. "You’re talking in riddles like a real prick, but... since you're the one who got hooked, how can I be the fish?"