Martin's movements stiffened noticeably, but he quickly forced a bitter smile: "There are ladies and children inside the RV. I'm new here and don't want to disturb their rest, and it's not very convenient..."
Daryl frowned, scrutinizing him for a few moments.
Martin's explanation sounded reasonable enough; after all, the RV was cramped, and those inside were everyone's primary concern.
It really wasn't appropriate for someone who had just joined the team and was still under observation to head over there.
He looked at Martin's injured leg, still wrapped in gauze, and finally waved his hand impatiently: "Make it quick, and don't cause any trouble."
"Thank you, thank you!" Martin said as if granted a massive reprieve. He hurriedly and carefully opened the car door, limping toward the public restroom behind the convenience store.
Watching Martin's retreating back, Louis, inside the RV, let out a cold sneer.
He didn't believe a single word.
Doesn't want to disturb? Would someone who barely cared about his companions' tragic deaths care about a little inconvenience?
Besides, even if he were truly considerate, would someone who just survived the destruction of their camp be willing to head into a potentially dangerous place alone in the dark without asking a sentry to accompany him?
Although it could be because he was a newcomer and didn't want to trouble anyone, Louis believed that in such situations, it was better to be safe than sorry.
He hesitated no longer, immediately threw off the covers, and crept toward the RV's back door.
Louis first carefully observed the situation outside, confirming that Daryl had walked away, Glenn and T-Dog were still chatting on the other side, and Dale seemed to be truly asleep.
Then, using the vehicle as cover, he quickly slipped into a blind spot, pulled the invisibility cloak from his backpack, draped it over himself, and vanished completely into the darkness.
Under the cover of night, using the faint light from the gas station canopy and the shadows of the vehicles, he silently followed Martin.
Martin was clearly oblivious as he hurried into the foul-smelling public restroom.
But instead of heading to a stall like a normal person, he went straight to the innermost corner, crouched down, and fumbled for something under a loose floor tile.
Soon, he seemed to have found what he was looking for, pulling out a small black object wrapped in a plastic bag from under the tile—it was a small walkie-talkie!
Just as I thought!
Seeing this, a cold light flashed in Louis's eyes. All his suspicions were confirmed!
Just as Martin picked up the walkie-talkie and seemed ready to press the talk button, Louis moved!
He didn't hesitate for a second; his wand appeared in his palm.
"Wingardium..." He didn't even need to finish the incantation; the powerful magic of Wingardium Leviosa precisely locked onto a stack of tires in the corner outside the restroom!
A second later, just before Martin could press the talk button, a massive tire slammed violently into the back of his head!
"Ugh!" Martin didn't even have time to groan. The walkie-talkie flew from his hand, and his body slumped forward like his bones had been removed, knocking him out cold.
Louis revealed himself and stepped forward, first kicking Martin with his toe to confirm he was truly unconscious and not faking.
Then, he knelt down and picked up the walkie-talkie, his expression icy.
He first walked to the restroom door, listening alertly for any movement outside. After confirming that the dull thud of the tire hadn't alerted anyone, he returned to Martin and began searching him.
After several thorough searches, he finally felt a small booklet hidden in the lining of Martin's boot.
Louis quickly opened it. Inside was a hand-drawn, extremely crude but exceptionally clear regional map, along with notes filled with scrawled handwriting.
By the faint moonlight filtering through the broken restroom window, he quickly flipped through the notebook.
As he turned the pages, Louis's heart sank further and further.
This was nothing less than a "reconnaissance notebook"! It recorded survivor outposts he might encounter along the way and assessed whether they could be "targeted"!
"...Abandoned farm, two men and one woman, dealt with. Supplies: 12 cans, 5 waters, 1 shotgun (to be collected)..."
"...Riverside cabin, elderly couple, dealt with. Supplies: various medicines, half a barrel of oil (to be collected)..."
"...West Side Atlanta nursing home, many people, guarded, suspected firearms, tough nut to crack (tentative)..."
When he encountered something he could handle, he dealt with it himself; when they looked like trouble, he would find a time to report to his companions and wait for an opportunity to coordinate from both inside and out.
When he saw the familiar location of the "Nursing home" and those cold, cruel records, Louis's pupils suddenly constricted, and a wave of icy killing intent instantly swept through his body!
These scumbags!
Louis expressionlessly closed the notebook and stuffed it into his pocket along with the walkie-talkie.
He looked at the unconscious Martin on the ground, the depths of his blue eyes holding nothing but icy indifference.
He had to be eliminated! And quickly!
He pulled out the steel spike that had been hanging at his waist. The cold touch of the metal gradually calmed his chaotic thoughts.
Just one strike... However, the moment the steel spike was about to fall, he seemed to think of something, and his wrist jerked to a stop.
No... he couldn't just kill someone like that.
A second later, Louis retracted the steel spike and raised his wand instead—casting his gaze toward the crumbling concrete ceiling above.
At the breach in the roof, a cracked stone slab immediately lost its support under the control of Louis's magic!
"Crack... Rumble!"
Countless fragments of stone mixed with dust crashed down, completely burying the unconscious figure on the ground.
Louis stared expressionlessly at the rubble, which was beginning to seep dark red liquid, until he was certain there were no signs of life left. Only then did he slowly withdraw his gaze.
He raised his hand and gave himself a light wave: "Scourgify."
Any dust or bloodstains that might have clung to him vanished in an instant.
After all, even friends who haven't killed anyone know that killing is easy, but burying the body is hard.
It wasn't easy for him to handle a body right now, and his methods of attack were quite distinctive. There was no need to leave such clues; it was better to be cautious.
And an accident was the perfect cover.
Although he could have chosen to knock the man out first and then turn the evidence over to Rick and the others.
But there was no need.
The risk was too high; he would have to explain why he was out tracking someone in the middle of the night instead of sleeping.
Besides, he was currently in a hurry to reach the CDC to investigate his own viral condition and would soon be busy improving his magical strength.
He really didn't have time to delay their journey by dealing with a scumbag, which might even spark a debate within the team about "how to handle a captive."
Louis liked kind people, but kindness should only be reserved for those who deserve it.
He looked at the pile of rubble and let out a soft breath.
Although the trouble was dealt with, a faint trace of regret rose deep within him.
He had been so focused on eliminating the threat quickly that he forgot to try out spells like Petrificus Totalus or Obliviate before finishing him off.
What a great practice subject, wasted just like that!
Although these were spells he hadn't learned yet, practicing more would have still provided some experience!
In a moment of impulse, he had sent the man on his way.
"Oh well, he's already dead. I'll just have to be more mindful next time."