Gun of Ashes-Chapter 504 - 100: The Outside World

The gale carried cold rain, beating against the glass with a drum-like intensity, as if a bunch of damned lunatics were happily knocking on your window to wake you up.

But it was the dead of night, and Lorenzo’s room was on the second floor.

Lorenzo awoke slowly, perhaps because he had returned to a familiar place. After a short rest, the weariness on his body had lessened significantly. He hadn’t drawn the curtains, and the light from the street lamps outside barely illuminated his room. He sat up slowly and, after a moment of absent-mindedness, suddenly felt a ghostly sense of solitude.

Some people often say, don’t nap alone at home; once you oversleep, awakening slowly at dusk and staring at a dim, empty room inevitably brings a sorrowful sadness.

Doctors say that in the process of waking up, not only does the body awaken, but the spirit does too. During those initial moments after awakening, a person’s spirit is numb, fragile, and emotionally weakest. An overwhelming sense of emptiness permeates every fiber of the flesh, prompting one to impulsively push open the window and leap.

— So that’s why you shouldn’t take naps.

Lazily, Lorenzo crawled out of bed. It was merely idle time amidst frantic busyness, those ill-intentioned guys still lurking in the shadows, watching him. He had no time to scrutinize himself, only time to hone his sharp teeth desperately.

Lorenzo didn’t turn on the lights. With the help of the streetlight’s glow and the vision of a Demon Hunter, he could see everything in the room. Silently, he sat in the chair, pulling out the weapons he hadn’t finished modifying and continued to work on them.

Lorenzo never sat in on any mechanics classes, but he had learned enough skills in the Demon Hunting Order, the skills of slaughter.

Many times, due to prolonged high-intensity combat, the Nail Sword that Demon Hunters carried often couldn’t keep up with the high rate of damage, so handcrafted weapon making became something many Demon Hunters needed to master. Like an interesting craft class, though what was produced wasn’t some childish toy, but deadly weapons.

Thanks to these experiences, Lorenzo was able to play with these shotgun ammunitions in so many ways, though they were intended for dealing with Demons, not going against Demon Hunters.

He reached into the darkness, then retrieved a cold bullet head.

Compared to a weapon, it was more fitting to call this thing a piece of art, its surface shimmering with moonlit silver, densely complex Holy Words engraved on it. However, there were some flaws in these inscriptions. It was entirely handcrafted, and evidently, this engraver was still a novice, as many of the characters were crooked.

This novice engraver was, of course, Lorenzo. Although he had long since left the Evangelical Church, he still harbored some expectations for that illusory faith... no, this wasn’t even an expectation, merely a "believing in something when faced with despair" mindset.

Indeed, when crafting this bullet, Lorenzo was confronting Dean Lawrence, confronting despair. The insurmountable gap made him question whether he could kill Lawrence, so he ridiculously engraved the Holy Words on the bullet, in hopes that the God who always observed would do something.

This was a solid bullet made entirely of Holy Silver, a lethal weapon against both Demons and Demon Hunters. Lorenzo had melted all the Holy Silver he brought from the Demon Hunting Order to create two pure Holy Silver solid bullets, intending for these two Death Bullets to consecutively hit Lawrence’s head and heart, killing him completely.

But ultimately, this plan didn’t succeed. Lorenzo only found the opportunity to fire one shot, and that bullet didn’t kill Lawrence. Fortunately, subsequent industrial artillery ended this long-lasting death duel.

Therefore, this Holy Silver Bullet remained, and Lorenzo thought there wouldn’t be another opportunity to use it, but then the New Order came.

Lorenzo carefully put away this bullet. Like Lacquered Antimony, this would be Lorenzo’s trump card, a one-hit-kill weapon.

Suddenly, there was a slight disturbance from outside the door. Lorenzo didn’t act rashly but gently picked up the shotgun and short sword.

It was already late at night. Mrs. Van Rudd should have gone to sleep long ago, and considering Hig’s routine, he too should be lying in bed. Lorenzo didn’t keep any pets, nor did he think anyone else would have such creatures.

He cautiously approached the door, intently staring at the doorknob.

Mrs. Van Rudd and Hig would never enter his room, even if they had something to say, they would knock. If that doorknob started to turn, Lorenzo would throw the short sword without hesitation... As for why not use the shotgun, given how late it was, the gunshot would wake the others, and maintaining quietness was a courtesy of a tenant.

Muscles tensed, a cold glimmer flowed on the short sword.

The sound came again. It was footsteps, stopping briefly by Lorenzo’s door, then heading downstairs.

Lorenzo was puzzled. He slowly opened the door, seeing a familiar silhouette through the gap.

"Hig?"

Lorenzo called softly, though faint, in the still of the night, it was remarkably clear.

Hig turned around, looking at Lorenzo with some surprise.

"You... haven’t slept yet?"

Hig didn’t expect that Lorenzo hadn’t slept at this hour, then he saw the cold glimmer under the door crack, from the sharp short sword.

Seeing this, Lorenzo quickly put the weapon away. His roommate’s mental state was already unsteady, and he didn’t want to exert more pressure on him.