Chapter 28: [Arsonist] vs. [Evil Spirit Warlock]

A cold, sharp pain pierced his lower back.

Clyde Joshua, who had been roaring with fury, was now struck by a mix of shock and rage. These two men were his closest brothers-in-arms, comrades who had waded through life and death by his side. To think they would actually turn their blades on him now—was it betrayal, or something else?

Stunned and furious, Clyde Joshua had no time to discern the truth. He raised his right hand; crimson flames, like flowing blood, illuminated his fiery pupils, within which dwelled the "Fire Crow." The origins of the [Arsonist] sequence mostly stemmed from the "Fire Crows" inhabiting the [Doomsday Volcano]. Under normal circumstances, the flames dancing upon his palm would stand at least two feet high, but in the pouring rain of this night, they flickered at barely a foot. The [Arsonist] was severely suppressed in the rainy night.

Clyde Joshua could no longer concern himself with such things; he struck out with his palm.

"Crack!"

The chest of the henchman on his left audibly caved in, and the man’s body flew backward, slamming heavily against the wall. A streak of fire, like a venomous snake, rapidly ignited and surged across the sunken chest, threatening to consume him entirely. An [Arsonist] gains "Flame Essence" by releasing flames, accelerating combustion, and harvesting it from the "combustible material." A "living being" is an exquisite fuel, and the "Flame Essence" harvested from one is particularly rich. Faced with his brother's betrayal, he showed no mercy, intending to kill.

Just as Clyde Joshua prepared to finish off the other henchman, a black orb wreathed in blood-red lightning bolts streaked toward him at breakneck speed.

"Damn it, that guy is an Extraordinary!"

Clyde Joshua’s heart hammered with dread. The betrayal of his two men had demanded his full attention, leaving him no spare thought for his opponent—let alone the realization that the man possessed supernatural abilities. Now, caught in a surprise attack, he had no way to resist the direct impact of the supernatural spell.

"Boom!"

The massive explosion and the tearing shockwave sent Clyde Joshua flying like a kite with a snapped string. In a daze, he felt as though he saw the Grim Reaper swinging his scythe at him.

With a heavy thud, he crashed into a wall three or four meters away. As he fell, he pushed off the wall with his arm, struggling to steady himself. His trench coat was violently shredded, hanging in tatters, and there wasn't a single part of him that didn't ache; his hands shook uncontrollably. The torrential rain and the blast of the supernatural spell had blurred his vision. Before, he could have used the dim light from nearby windows to navigate, but now, the world before him was like a shattered, arbitrarily reassembled painting—fragmented and distorted, he could no longer see clearly.

"Run!"

He gritted his teeth, forced his heavy legs to move, and stumbled back in the direction he had come.

Watching the Homer Mafia boss flee, Zorn was slightly taken aback. "He didn't get blown to pieces immediately?"

Two henchmen had betrayed him with a literal stab in the back, followed by Zorn’s preemptive strike with the evil spirit spell "Oblivion Orb"—the power behind such an assault was far from trivial. The destructive force of the Oblivion Orb was truly terrifying.

"He must have some decent defensive measures." Even within the same sequence, individuals differ in the talents and supernatural skills they acquire.

"Still, judging by the way he's running, it’s most likely a death throe."

Zorn quickly gave chase. Sure enough, after stepping over the two corpses—one beaten to death by the Mafia boss, the other killed by his own Oblivion Orb—Zorn reached a wider alleyway. About twenty meters ahead, the Mafia boss, Clyde Joshua, had collapsed to the ground. The flames that had once flowed over his hands were gradually extinguishing in the downpour and the puddles. The relentless rain seemed to be the final straw that snuffed out his life’s fire.

"Hoo... hah..."

Zorn took a deep breath and gently rubbed the bridge of his nose. As a veteran of the highest order, he had killed no fewer than eight hundred, if not a thousand, gang leaders. He knew all too well the "special tricks" these dying Mafia bosses kept up their sleeves: feigning death to lure enemies close for a desperate counterattack, pretending to surrender only to launch a surprise strike, or acting as though they were meeting their end heroically while secretly gathering strength to either flee or retaliate once the opponent lowered their guard. These ruthless, cunning men would not die so easily.

Zorn did not approach. Instead, keeping a safe distance, he slowly unleashed his [Evil Spirit Authority]. The [Evil Spirit Wizard] was a noble master of magic; as long as he maintained a sufficient distance, he could toy with ordinary sequences in the palm of his hand.

Although he possessed the ability to resurrect, each revival cost him a portion of his "Evil Wizard Spirituality," and recovering that lost essence took time. Naturally, he could not waste it lightly.

The invisible power of the [Evil Spirit Authority] pierced like a blade into the dying, supernatural spirit. The next moment, the power of [Arsonist] Clyde Joshua’s life-spark flared and surged. He sprang up like a coiled spring. Blazing flames instantly engulfed his body, illuminating the rain-slicked alley and vaporizing the falling rain.

"Argh..."

His face twisted in a hideous grimace, and as he let out a painful howl, two fire-oil bottles the size of fists came flying toward Zorn.

*Bang! Bang!*

The bottles shattered in mid-air.

*Whoosh...*

Fierce flames surged through the narrow alley, too intense for even the heavy rain to quench immediately. Had Zorn been closer, he would have been drenched in burning oil. But Zorn was far enough away. The raging fire formed a wall of flame, separating the two.

With a dark expression, Clyde Joshua stared through the fire at the young man’s calm, cold, devilish face; his heart trembled. He had intended to suppress his life-spark, feign death, and then ambush his opponent when he got close. It was a gamble, but it was his only chance to kill his attacker. Yet, the man was terrifyingly experienced. Not only did he refuse to get close, but he had also "whipped the corpse" from afar.

What a cunning and shameless bastard.

Fortunately, he had consumed that expensive potion purchased from the black market for Extraordinaries. By pretending to be dead, he had managed to stall his injuries and recover a portion of his strength. The price of 120 gold pounds had pained him, but it had proven its worth today.

"Go!"

With the wall of flame as a barrier and a sharp, stinging pain deep within his soul, Clyde Joshua knew this was no place to linger. He turned and sprinted toward the tavern.

Watching Clyde Joshua flee, Zorn smiled coldly, like a reaper in the rain.

"Did you... really think you could escape?"

"You should know... prey wounded by an Evil Spirit Wizard never gets away."

As a world-class boss, the [Evil Spirit Wizard]'s insight into spirituality was unparalleled. He had already pierced Clyde Joshua’s spirit; for some time to come, his spiritual essence would slowly leak away, and those traces would be laid bare before Zorn’s eyes. Besides that, Zorn had plenty of other methods.

He extended his palm and twisted it slightly. His middle finger flicked out, rolling in the water for a moment before a six-foot-long, two-ringed strange snake emerged.

"Absorb the bloodstains over there, and sniff out the location of its master."

"Hiss, hiss~~"

The two-ringed snake flicked its tongue and slithered away rapidly. Zorn walked over to the two corpses. Though they were dead, to Zorn, their "departed souls" were fresh, having not yet fully detached from their bodies. If these gangsters were sent to court, they would face the death penalty anyway. Zorn was only responsible for "sending them off"—forgiveness was God’s business.

He extended one hand, and [Life Drain] was activated. Within Zorn’s field of vision, the "departed souls" tainted with black impurities were slowly pulled from the carcasses. Then, his palm acted like a giant vortex, drawing the two souls inside. Only then did the two dim-witted souls realize something was wrong; they tried to struggle, but Zorn crushed them into nothingness.

The "departed souls" were absorbed and rapidly converted into the "Spirit Essence" Zorn required. One soul provided more "Spirit Essence" than ten mutant gray rats, and it was far purer and more delicious. Different [Sequences] harvested different types of "Essence" through their "conversion objects." The [Arsonist] gained "Flame Essence" by burning humans, houses, merchant ships, or even starting forest fires. The [Evil Spirit Wizard], however, gained "Spirit Essence" by killing humans, through the terror and disaster caused by his slaughter, the painful struggle of the dying, and the final harvest of their "departed souls."

"The taste is not bad at all."

As Zorn stood up, the burning oil had been largely extinguished by the downpour. The two-ringed snake seemed to have caught the scent of its escaping prey and slithered off. Zorn followed quickly.

Approaching the back door of the tavern, the two-ringed snake did not enter but continued straight ahead.

"Not using the tavern as cover? Heading straight for your safehouse?"

Zorn raised an eyebrow, a cruel smile curling his lips. Generally, these Mafia bosses kept a great deal of wealth in their "safehouses." Since his prey was running back to his own lair, Zorn could catch them all in one fell swoop.