Chapter 32 Holweg
At the entrance of the Alchemy Building stood a carriage bearing a double-headed eagle emblem—the standard transport of the Imperial garrison.
The lock on the building's door was broken, and the door itself was ajar.
Zhou Ning closed his umbrella, stood on the steps, and listened. The distinct sounds of a struggle echoed from the upper floors.
This is definitely the place.
Without hesitating, Zhou Ning pushed the door open.
The thuds of combat intensified. He was about to ascend the stairs when a loud clang and the crack of splintering wood split the air. A figure crashed through the stair railing and tumbled down. Barely catching his balance, the man rolled and landed in a half-kneel directly in front of Zhou Ning, then cautiously drew his pistol and aimed it.
"Who are you?"
Through the dim light, Zhou Ning instantly recognized the familiar deerstalker cap. The man was Sherlock. Zhou Ning raised his hands in a mock surrender and smiled.
"Should I say, 'No need for formalities'? Or should I surrender first?"
Sherlock recognized Zhou Ning at that moment. If I had a negative emotion system, Zhou Ning thought, I'd definitely see a +1000 prompt appear over his head. The detective rolled his eyes and was about to speak when his expression suddenly changed. "Get out of the way!" he shouted.
Bang!
A muffled pop echoed in the hall. A transparent projectile, like a bullet made of compressed air, shot from the empty second-floor landing with a sharp buzz.
Zhou Ning dodged back just as it struck the ground with a soft thwump, leaving a deep hole in the floorboards.
"What's going on?"
Zhou Ning wondered aloud as more invisible air bullets whizzed down from the stairs. He couldn't see them at all, forced to rely on hearing and instinct to dodge. A rush of wind passed by his ear. He instinctively dove left, then began moving erratically, weaving through the entryway like a phantom in the night. A series of new holes appeared in the floor behind him.
"There's an invisible man upstairs," Sherlock explained, his face grim with regret. He didn't stop moving, firing two shots toward the landing as he spoke. "He's the murderer. We underestimated him. He's already killed two of my men."
Wood chips flew from the handrail where his bullets struck, but there was no telling if they'd hit their mark. The entire Alchemy Building fell into a terrifying silence.
"An invisible man?"
Zhou Ning's expression grew serious. Psychic abilities exist in 'Apocalypse,' he recalled. They're activated by certain potions or passed down through other strange means. Some of them are incredibly difficult to deal with. But invisibility? That's on another level.
Suddenly, an overwhelming premonition of danger washed over him, and goosebumps erupted on his back. His face tightened, and he threw himself backward.
Ripples shimmered in the air as a transparent bullet materialized behind him, shooting toward his head. His top hat was torn from his head and fluttered to the ground, a clean, circular hole punched through its center. If Zhou Ning had reacted a fraction of a second slower, his head would have been blown apart like a ripe melon.
On the other side of the room, Sherlock seized the opportunity, tossing a cloud of gray powder into the open space behind Zhou Ning.
"Thunder!"
In an instant, a small, black thundercloud formed in the air, crackling with lightning.
So this is what a Meteorologist can do, Zhou Ning thought. They use various means to change the local weather, creating combat conditions that favor them. They're skilled in fighting, shooting, and spellcasting—a profession built around the weather. They can also accurately predict weather changes in the wild.
As the thundercloud gathered, Zhou Ning heard footsteps jumping away from it. The invisible man was trying to escape the lightning by moving into the open space behind him.
On his skill bar, [Gun Fighting · Deadly Rhythm] began to glow faintly.
Zhou Ning felt his mind enter a strange state—an indescribable feeling, as if everything was suddenly under his complete control.
He arrested his backward momentum, twisted at the waist, and an ivory-handled revolver appeared in his hand, spinning once before he gripped it tightly. He snapped the muzzle toward a corner of the open space and pulled the trigger without hesitation.
His prepped skill activated instantly.
Ripple Shooting!
From his position, Sherlock's eyes went wide with shock. He saw Zhou Ning fire, and a bullet wreathed in flame shot from the muzzle, the very air around it seeming to tear and ripple.
A muffled groan came from the corner, and a spray of blood appeared out of thin air. The faint outline of a young man wearing a monocle shimmered into view, his face a mask of astonishment.
A hit! Sherlock's senses screamed. He rushed to follow up, firing at the young man's silhouette.
Snap!
The figure cracked like glass under the impact of the bullet and then shattered into countless fragments.
A mirror image, Zhou Ning realized.
A moment later, the air in another part of the room began to vibrate, and a volley of air bullets shot toward them. Sherlock cursed and rolled for cover.
Zhou Ning, however, didn't retreat. He charged forward like a cheetah, directly into the path of the attack.
"Be careful!" Sherlock yelled, sensing at least two projectiles in Zhou Ning's path, but he quickly fell silent. Zhou Ning weaved past the invisible bullets as if he could see them, then swung his revolver toward an empty space to his side and fired.
The [Fast Pursuit] icon on his skill bar flashed.
Clang!
A flaming bullet shot out, deflected in mid-air with a screech of metal, as if it had struck something heavy and sent it flying. A dagger clattered to the floor. Zhou Ning took a half-step back, then kicked off the ground, launching himself forward again before he had even fully landed.
Behind him, Sherlock's deep voice chanted a spell in ancient Faric:
"Frost!"
He scattered another burst of gray powder. A thick layer of frost instantly coated the floor, and two distinct footprints appeared in the rime.
Without breaking stride, Zhou Ning raised his right hand and fired at the footprints.
A sharp scream tore through the air. A figure rolled out of invisibility and scrambled across the floor—but it was a monster, covered in gray scales. It had a swollen, ugly head that was only vaguely human, and slime dripped from its body. It clutched a wound on its ribs with its left hand, holding its right hand out pleadingly.
"No, wait!" it rasped in a garbled voice. "I just… I just want to survive…"
Before it could finish, Zhou Ning raised his revolver and coldly pulled the trigger.
The flaming bullet struck the monster squarely in the head, which instantly burst apart. Grayish-white brain matter and green mucus splattered across the floor.
Zhou Ning looked down at the corpse and shook his head. "No, you don't." Monsters like this in the game have no humanity left.
A panel appeared in his vision:
[You killed Holweg Guy. You gained 2800 experience.]
[B-level mission [Alchemy Ghost] completed. Gained 50,000 experience points.]
[You have obtained a rare item: Goethe's Alchemy Manual x1. Claim?]
"No," he muttered. Now was not the time.
After the monster died, Zhou Ning bent down and picked up a thick notebook lying on the ground.
[Ordinary item: Holweg's Diary.]
Zhou Ning opened it. Sherlock, clutching his injured ribs, walked over and stood behind him to read it as well.
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