Asahi did not go out; he patiently listened to the entire conversation between the two drug traffickers. Only after they both left did he finally step out. His entire body was flushed red from the hot water, with steam rising from the droplets clinging to his skin.
Asahi behaved as usual, yet he secretly monitored every movement of the two men.
No longer in a soundproof room, the two spoke not a single word to each other. They silently entered their room and remained still.
"Innkeeper, is this room vacant? I'd like to switch to this one."
After paying a bit extra, Asahi moved into the room adjacent to the drug traffickers. The coachman remained in the old room, with Asahi covering all the expenses. Furthermore, he didn't want to involve the man in this. He could intervene in other matters, but the prerequisite was that he would bear the consequences alone, without involving innocent bystanders.
At midnight, the entire inn was plunged into silence. While everyone else was asleep, a room door creaked open ever so slightly, and the two traffickers stepped out. They silently left the inn, certain they hadn't attracted anyone's attention. Little did they know that not far away, two eyes gleamed in a dark corner, tracking their every move.
Asahi had changed into a suit of armor that covered his entire body. He did not reveal his position, his silhouette weaving through the dark corners.
His caution was justified. Not long after, a group of people—identical in manner to the two traffickers—emerged from other inns. They did not gather in one spot but instead exchanged subtle glances. The formation split into groups of two, three, and five. By Asahi's precise count, there were 26 of them in total.
They were not only equipped with guns but were also alert for one another. If he had followed the two men using normal tailing methods, he would have certainly been detected.
"Once you all gather together, I can take you all out at once," Asahi thought. With his specialized armor, even if they had guns, he wasn't afraid. As for offensive power, his fists would be enough.
The Empire was a very strange place; its technology was advanced enough to rival Asahi's world from decades ago. They could manufacture guns, military hardware, and electric lights, yet the majority of the population still lived as if in the medieval era. Like these men—they carried oil lamps in their hands as they gathered outside the town.
Two carriages were parked near the wilderness, shielded by thickets. They didn't dare bring the carriages into town for fear of being inspected by the guards; they could only hide them here.
"The drugs must be inside."
A man holding an oil lamp at the very back hadn't even had time to breathe a sigh of relief when, from behind him, two pitch-black arms reached out and tightly covered his mouth.
It happened so fast he didn't even have time to cry for help before his vision went dark. The sound of the oil lamp shattering made those in front turn around; the light from the flame was gone, and the man had been swallowed by the darkness.
"What the—"
One man fearfully drew a pistol, and the others followed suit.
"Is it a monster?"
"Doesn't seem like it! Monsters always roar before they attack!"
One perceptive man sensed a green silhouette moving in the darkness. He hurriedly opened fire while shouting loudly.
"We're under attack! Over there!"
Regrettably, the warning came too late. Another man was snatched away, and his oil lamp was smashed to pieces, creating fragments that scattered across the ground.
"He's targeting the lamp bearers!"
There were 26 traffickers; five held lamps. Two were down, and the remaining three lamp bearers were now strictly guarded by the rest of the members. They relied on the light from the oil lamps to observe their surroundings.
Everyone gripped their guns tightly, cold sweat pouring down. But after ten seconds of agonizing tension, nothing happened.
"Maybe it's gone?"
The moment they relaxed, a black shadow lunged forward and snatched another trafficker. He clamped the man's mouth shut so no sound could escape and vanished as fast as a gust of wind.
"Damn it!"
They fired repeatedly at the spot where the shadow had appeared, showing no regard for their comrade's life. Naturally, nothing happened afterward. No silhouette, no blood spilled, no typical screams—only a terrifying silence.
In a desolate wilderness like this, what makes people truly afraid? The murky darkness? Or something hidden within it?
Thud!
Yet another man was taken. His massive strength was useless even though the man had tried to resist. That resistance only bought him an extra half-second to cast a desperate look for help.
"Everyone, aim for the green spots! Those are the monster's eyes!!"
A man who appeared to be the leader shouted, informing his subordinates while trying to bolster their morale.
One man saw a black shadow moving toward him and, knowing the leader was telling the truth, fired directly at that spot.
"It's real! It's real! It's attacking me!!"
He felt the bullet hit something. But before he could celebrate, the "monster" increased its speed. The bullet seemed incapable of causing any damage. It moved so fast they couldn't even make out its shape.
The gunman only had time for one wretched scream before becoming the next victim to be snatched away. He left behind a gun that still had bullets and two handprints dragging across the ground—a truly gruesome sight.
"Damn it!!! You monster! If you're so brave, come out and show yourself!!"
They screamed into the night, trying to reclaim a shred of courage. But the darkness remained eternally silent, slowly swallowing them all.
Without realizing it, the group had huddled together. When the leader tried to spread out the formation for better mobility, that cold black shadow appeared again. It no longer hid in the darkness; it lunged out and immediately knocked several people down at once.
The light of an oil lamp shone down, revealing it wasn't a demon or a monster. It was a person wearing black armor from head to toe, with a dark windbreaker over it and a helmet covering the head.
"This thing is a human!!! Fire!!!"
A bullet was fired from the barrel. At such close range, the gunman was confident the bullet would hit the horrifying figure. But no—Asahi simply tilted his head slightly, and the bullet grazed past his face into the void.
Someone had once taught him that when facing a gun, one must always watch the barrel. The speed of a bullet is fast and difficult to dodge, but the speed at which a person moves the barrel is not nearly as fast. As long as he could avoid the direction the barrel was pointed, he could avoid the bullet.
Asahi approached a man, immediately snapped his wrist, followed by an upper-cut to the jaw and a direct kick to the stomach—fluid and decisive. He easily eliminated one person from the fight.
One by one, agonized screams rang out. Asahi moved incessantly, gliding through the night like a ghost. Wherever he passed, someone fell. The sound of steel hitting flesh and bones breaking further terrorized the remaining men. They were scattered and slumped across the ground. Only the leader remained standing, his body turned to jelly, his legs trembling like a newborn fawn.
"Answer my question."
Asahi stepped in front of him, a terrifying aura radiating from him. His current appearance, combined with the leader's fragile state of mind, created quite the effect. The man collapsed, kneeling on the ground.