I Possess the SSS Skill: Future Sight-Chapter 29: Some Questions

Two weeks had passed since that suffocating security meeting at the palace of the High Kaiser Dravion.

Two weeks of tension, psychological pressure, and frantic searching for ghosts called "the Six Volders," and for the financiers of human experiments in the depths of Elysium.

In one of the upscale alleys designated for magical intelligence officials in the middle sector, where the insects of the lower sectors dare not cross, the rain was falling in a monotonous gloom.

Raindrops reflected the dim neon lights, washing the clean asphalt.

"Arthur Sterling," a prominent investigator in magical intelligence, walked with confident steps, wearing his luxurious ether-resistant leather coat.

He held a cup of hot coffee in his right hand, while beside him walked his colleague and close friend "Marcus," who was lighting a cigarette and sheltering himself under his black umbrella.

"I don’t understand what Commander Vance is thinking," Arthur said irritably, taking a sip of his coffee as steam rose from the cup and mixed with the cold air.

"Two weeks of blind raids in Lower Sector G, and we haven’t found a single lead pointing us to those responsible for those laboratories. It’s as if the earth split open and swallowed them."

Marcus exhaled a cloud of blue smoke and smirked.

"The high command is tense, Arthur. After Kaiser Dravion humiliated them in his own domain, they’ve started looking for any scapegoat. Haven’t you heard?

Even Valisera’s damned squad is combing the sewers looking for that rat called ’the Black Joker.’"

Arthur let out a rough laugh.

"The Joker? Just a nobody thief who took advantage of the chaos. If he falls into my hands, I’ll make him wish he was never born. I’ll skin him alive and make him confess every coin he sto—"

Arthur didn’t finish his sentence. And he never would.

In a fraction of a second, faster than the blink of an eye, from an impossible angle in absolute darkness... death was unleashed.

There was no gunshot blast. No magical warning. Only the faintest metallic friction sound, followed by a nightmarish penetration.

Thwack! A silent bullet, saturated with pitch-black ether energy like a fragment of cosmic void, pierced through Arthur’s ether protection barrier as if it were wet paper.

The bullet didn’t just pierce his armored coat—it brutally lodged itself into his lower abdomen, tearing through tissues, muscles, and most importantly... shattering his "Ether Core" at the center of his body.

"Ughh...!"

Arthur’s eyes widened in horrific shock.

His body bent forward involuntarily, and the coffee cup slipped from his hand, splattering hot brown liquid onto the asphalt.

Before his mind could process what had happened, he felt a deadly constriction in his throat, and a thick torrent of crimson blood burst from his mouth, splashing violently onto the ground and mixing with the rain.

"Arthur! What the—" Marcus shouted in terror, throwing his cigarette away and reaching for his weapon.

But Marcus’s instincts were slower than the reaper.

Splaash! A wet, grotesque, horrifying explosion echoed through the alley.

A second bullet, fired with the same deadly silence, struck directly into Marcus’s forehead.

Marcus didn’t just fall— the upper half of his skull exploded like a rotten watermelon struck by an iron hammer.

Fragments of white bone, gray brain matter, and hot blood splattered across Arthur’s face as he staggered in agony, painting the alley walls in a surreal, bloody canvas.

Marcus’s headless body collapsed to the ground like a heavy trash bag, sinking into a pool of blood that began to mix with the rainwater.

"Maaaarcuuus!"

Arthur screamed at the top of his lungs, a cry that tore through the stillness of the night.

Terror, shock, and unbearable physical pain fused in his mind, creating a moment of madness.

Blood boiled in his mouth, and his abdomen bled profusely without stopping.

With immense difficulty, he forced himself to stand, swaying like a dying drunk.

He pressed his trembling hand against the gaping wound in his abdomen, trying to summon his ether energy to heal himself or form a magical barrier.

But... nothing. His core was completely shattered. He could feel the cold of death creeping through his veins.

"Who’s there?! Show yourself, you coward!" 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

Arthur shouted as he struggled to pull his golden pistol from his belt, spinning around with hysterical eyes, searching the shadows for a hidden sniper.

From the dense shadows at the end of the alley, where the streetlights could not reach... a figure formed.

Calm, slow, terrifyingly confident footsteps. The sound of heavy tactical boots striking puddles.

The figure stepped into the faint circle of light.

He wore a long black tactical coat, dripping with rain.

In his right hand, he held an ordinary-looking black Glock pistol, but its muzzle exhaled threads of black ether like a burning shadow.

But what froze Arthur’s blood... was his face.

A smooth black mask, painted with a strange sadistic smile, with dark blue lines glowing coldly in the darkness.

The figure stopped a few meters away from Arthur, tilted his head slightly, then spoke in a rough voice, slightly distorted through the mask filters—a voice carrying a morbid, playful tone.

"Hello... Arthur."

Arthur Sterling’s eyes widened, and his heart skipped a beat as he stared at the nightmare before him.

He had read the reports. He had seen the blurry images.

"The Joker...?" Arthur whispered, disbelief coating his trembling voice.

The masked figure let out a low, muffled, infuriating chuckle.

He slowly raised his pistol and rested it casually on his shoulder.

"Oh... it seems I’m quite well-known among many people in this corrupt city," the Joker said theatrically.

"I’m truly flattered, detective."

The pain in Arthur’s abdomen burned through his nerves, but his pride as an intelligence officer and his anger over his friend’s death overpowered it.

"What do you want, you rotten bastard?!" Arthur roared, spitting blood, his voice coming out like the gurgle of a slaughtered animal.

He glanced at his torn abdomen, then at Marcus’s corpse, then back at the Joker with eyes filled with horrifying disbelief.

"And how... how the hell did you hit me?! I’m an A-rank investigator! My coat resists advanced ether! I don’t believe trash like you from G-rank could fire a shot powerful enough to pierce my body and defenses so easily! How did you do it?!"

The Joker fell silent for a moment.

Then... with a slow, provocative, highly theatrical motion... he raised his free left hand and placed his finger—covered by a fingerless black glove—over the mouth of the mask, where his lips should be.

"A secret..." the Joker whispered, his voice dripping with cold darkness.

Arthur didn’t know that the Joker hadn’t shot him directly. With his terrifying new skill [Shadow Rend - Rank S-], the Joker had fired the black ether bullet at Arthur’s "shadow" cast on the alley wall. The bullet pierced the shadow, and the immediate, overwhelming physical damage was reflected onto Arthur’s real body, bypassing all physical and magical defenses. He had been struck from a place no one could defend against.

Rage blinded Arthur’s perception. He roared like a wounded beast and raised his golden pistol, attempting to shoot the Joker.

"I’ll kill you, you insect!"

But he was far too slow. Far too weak.

The bullet that shattered his ether core had made his body heavy like a block of cement.

The Joker didn’t fire. Instead, he vanished from his spot like a phantom, leaving behind a trail of black smoke.

Before Arthur could realize where his opponent had gone, the Joker appeared right beside him.

With a fluid yet brutal motion, the Joker delivered a savage side kick with his heavy tactical boot directly into Arthur’s open abdominal wound.

"AAAAAAGH!"

Arthur’s scream echoed through the alley as he was sent flying two meters, crashing violently into metal trash containers and collapsing into the mud.

He crumpled on the ground, vomiting blood and stomach fluid, his body convulsing in involuntary spasms from pain no human mind could endure.

The Joker approached with calm steps and stood over the collapsed investigator, looking down at him like a sovereign observing a crushed insect.

"Don’t worry, Arthur," the Joker said in a calm, friendly, yet deeply terrifying voice.

"I won’t kill you immediately. I just have a few simple questions... a little chat between you and me."