Chapter 175
Gabriel and I stopped by one of the many weapons dealers scattered across Border City.
The shopkeeper, who had been lounging around, sprang to his feet the mont he saw us. Judging by our rough deanor, he must have assud we were serious custors.
"Gabriel, pick one that fits your hand."
I handed the shopkeeper a credit chip and gestured toward Gabriel with my chin.
"You’re really letting pick anything? Where the hell did you find a sponsor? Weren’t you out for twelve years?"
Gabriel asked as he ran his fingers over the firearms mounted on the wall. Despite living like a wreck for years, his hands were still deft when handling guns. It seed he had taken his training as a bodyguard seriously.
"It’s a long story."
I didn’t bother giving a lengthy explanation. Gabriel, too, was more focused on choosing a weapon for now. The fire of vengeance burned fiercely in his eyes.
’He’s got his drive back.’
The lethargic man I had seen before was gone, and the Gabriel I knew had resurfaced—helped along by his clear sense of purpose and the stimulant in his system.
"You really found the bastard who killed Shiren?"
"I’m almost certain. The problem is, he’s not soone you can take down easily."
"Hmm. In that case, there might be retaliation later, so I’ll be the one to carry out the hit. You just guide and stay out of it."
Gabriel spun a shotgun in one hand as he spoke. He locked in the magazine and tested his aim. He still rembered how to check a firearm properly.
"I’ll leave the revenge to you... but if things go south, you won’t be able to handle it alone. You’re not even at full strength yet."
"Even in my current state, I can still take out the kind of scum who prey on won and children."
The shopkeeper, who had been listening in on our conversation, grinned. Rubbing his hands together, he pulled a case out of a cupboard.
"Gentlen, if you’re planning a personal revenge, I’d like to recomnd this. It’s a neurotoxin called ’Virus.’ It only heightens pain receptors, making the victim experience agony like nothing else in this world. You can coat a blade with it or inject it using specialized rounds."
The shopkeeper opened the case. Inside, several ampoules of murky liquid glowed with an ominous green hue.
"Ha, Luka. Did you hear that? This stuff sounds amazing. Virus, huh?"
Gabriel, who had been examining lee weapons, walked over to the shopkeeper.
"That said, it does co at a price. It’s purely a luxury item for revenge. Not very useful for torture, either. The victim won’t last more than thirty minutes before dying from the overdose."
The shopkeeper glanced at .
The man knew how to do business. He had picked up on the words revenge and sponsor from my conversation with Gabriel.
"Don’t worry about the price. Give one."
I didn’t even bother asking how much it cost. I simply placed an extra credit chip on the table and slid it toward the shopkeeper.
"Oh my, thank you very much. As a special service, I’ll throw in the lee weapons the big custor here picked out."
Giving away lee weapons for free... that ant the toxin must be absurdly expensive. I tensed slightly, wondering if Jafa would call about this. Guess that was proof I still had a conscience.
Clack.
Gabriel picked out a pistol and a shotgun. Then he strapped a machete and a dagger to his waist and thigh.
"Much better."
I curled one side of my lips as I looked at the ard Gabriel.
"I actually feel alive again."
Gabriel tested his weapons in the underground shooting range of the gun shop. His movents were sluggish from withdrawal and the aftereffects of his long absence, but he wasn’t completely useless.
"Damn it, this is a ss."
Still, he didn’t seem happy with the way his body was responding.
"It doesn’t matter. You can rehab later. We’ll be pressing the barrel right against his face anyway."
"Can’t argue with that."
We left the gun shop. I glanced at Gabriel. He looked more alive than he had before.
"Gabriel, I’ll ask about what happened to you later. Right now, let’s focus on your revenge."
This was a debt I was letting him owe —just like when I had covered his dical expenses all those years ago.
Once this was over, Gabriel would be more loyal to than anyone. No matter the circumstances, he wouldn’t betray .
"I’ve got a lot of questions for you too. I never imagined I’d find you in Border City. I thought you’d live out the rest of your days in that depressing mansion, stuck in a wheelchair, and then just die there."
"You thought I was dead?"
"Giselle told you were. She said they just hadn’t made an official announcent yet. Your na still carried so weight for the Custoria family."
That made sense. Giselle must have told the people around her that I was dead to smuggle out to Border City.
But looking into the past could wait. There was sothing more urgent in front of .
As we walked, I explained the situation to Gabriel. The data I shared appeared on his terminal screen.
"...His na is Ernest Borel. He’s the grandson of Alex Borel, one of Border City’s founders. He’s a pretty big deal around here."
"A politician’s family, huh? Killing that bastard will cause a huge backlash, won’t it?"
"That’s why we need to kidnap him quietly and take him sowhere else. He works as a secretary under his father. Right now, he’s not an important figure, so security won’t be too tight. And since he needs privacy to satisfy his depraved urges, he probably won’t keep his guards close either."
I sent Gabriel Ernest Borel’s schedule. The ti slots we could target glowed yellow.
Gabriel clenched his teeth as he read through Ernest Borel’s personal details. Then his expression twisted into sothing sorrowful, and his eyes welled up slightly.
"Luka, why does soone born into a good family end up doing things like this? That bastard doesn’t need to kill to survive. Why... why does he kill people? And weaker ones at that. Does he get pleasure from it? What’s so enjoyable about murder? People aren’t supposed to do this. I just... I don’t understand."
Gabriel’s voice wavered toward the end. I stayed silent, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.
...Because I do understand Ernest Borel. He can’t feel excitent or joy from anything other than murder. It’s the only thing that makes him feel alive, and to prove his existence, he keeps on killing.
If soone like that were a soldier, a rcenary, or a warrior, it wouldn’t be as much of a problem. In certain professions, that kind of trait can even be an asset. But an ordinary civilian shouldn’t possess that kind of nature.
* * *
Gabriel and I observed Ernest Borel’s residence from an alleyway. It was a building where Border City’s bureaucrats lived in clusters. The reason for that was likely security.
In fact, the area was incredibly well-patrolled. Instead of private security, actual Bellato Federation police officers were making their rounds. Their equipnt was top-tier—full-body combat suits and heavy firearms.
"Luka, are you sure he’ll co out if we wait here? Phew..."
Gabriel inserted a prescribed ampoule into a syringe and injected it into his neck. Only then did he seem to perk up, grinning slightly.
"Based on his murder cycle, he should be out hunting for a victim around this ti. He’ll be moving alone tonight. And once this job is done, you’re cutting off all substances—no drugs, no alcohol. Rehab cos first."
"I know. I’ll do it. But for now, I don’t have a choice."
I narrowed my eyes at him for a mont before shifting my gaze away.
’No matter how corrupt the upper class and high-ranking officials of a nation may be... they don’t openly tolerate thrill-killing.’
Ernest Borel’s serial murders were anything but justifiable. If exposed, they could even end his family’s political career. That ant he would have to hunt alone, wandering the streets in search of prey.
We kept repositioning ourselves, waiting for Ernest Borel to erge.
By dusk, a man in workout clothes stepped out of the building. His hood was pulled low over his face, obscuring his features, but I recognized him instantly—his physique and walking habits were enough.
Ernest Borel exchanged casual greetings with the building’s security and passing patrol officers before jogging off as if he were out for exercise.
"Gabriel, stick to the plan."
"W-What? H-He’s already out? Where?! Where is he?!"
Gabriel’s hands trembled violently as he clutched his pistol. His face twisted into a strange expression, sowhere between laughter and tears.
I frowned.
"If you try to snipe him with your pathetic skills, you’ll lose your only chance for revenge."
"O-Okay, I wasn’t g-gonna shoot him, alright?"
"Move quickly."
I urged Gabriel forward while keeping my eyes on Ernest Borel. If we hesitated, he would soon disappear into the crowd.
"Luka... thanks for e-everything. I-I an it."
Despite his wavering voice, Gabriel still had enough pride left to struggle through a proper thank you.
Without even looking at him, I waved him off. A mont later, Gabriel’s presence vanished.
’Now it begins.’
I quickened my pace, trailing Ernest Borel.
He was a young man, just past his teenage years. His fra was slim but not sickly, and his well-proportioned features gave him an air of intelligence. His academic record was excellent, and his reputation among his peers was just as polished.
’He originally wanted to be an artist.’
I recalled an interview he had given. He had claid that witnessing the chaos and social issues of Border City had inspired him to pursue politics instead of art. A typical piece of PR nonsense.
’Still, the part about wanting to be an artist was probably true.’
Traces of that desire surfaced in his posts. A skilled liar blends truth with deception.
’Ernest isn’t soone trained for combat.’
He ran in short bursts, frequently stopping to catch his breath. That made tailing him easy. I kept my movents subtle, keeping my body hidden whenever necessary.
Ernest entered a busier district. From this point on, the area’s security gradually declined. Leaning against a wall, he scanned the passersby with slow, deliberate eyes.
’He’s looking for prey.’
Ernest’s pupils were moving rapidly. If he wanted to satisfy his urges, he had to target the weak.
Srrrk.
I, too, approached Ernest.
A hunter is at his most vulnerable when he locks onto his prey. That’s because all of his senses beco fixated in that direction.
Thud.
I leaned my back against the wall as I moved beside Ernest. He glanced at before pulling his hood down even further.
Srrrk.
Ernest lifted himself off the wall, trying to leave.
Crack!
I stomped on his foot. Ernest let out a short groan and glared at .
The crowd flowed past us like a stream, brushing against us as they went.
I had grown accustod to Border City. People here didn’t care about others. Unless soone outright stabbed and killed another person, no one would even bother looking.
"Put your back against the wall again before I completely crush that foot."
"You..."
Ernest started to reach into his pocket. I sighed and grabbed his arm.
"Don’t bother with that nonsense. If it cos down to it, I can stab your throat right here and disappear. You won’t even have ti to scream. You wanna leave this world in just one second?"
"What do you want?"
Ernest followed my instructions and leaned back against the wall. His pupils darted anxiously. He was probably thinking a million things at once.
"Well, what reason could a guy like have for targeting a rich kid? I don’t wanna be on the run for the rest of my life because I pissed off so big-shot family. I just wanna grab a few bucks and get out of Border City. Ah-ah, don’t put your hands in your pockets. Keep them out where I can see them and walk slowly, following my lead."
"...You’ve got so guts, ssing with even though you know who I am."
"I’m leaving Border City today anyway. More than that, you should’ve expected sothing like this the mont you set foot in a place like this. What kind of nerve made you co here alone without any guards? Since when was Border City ever known for good security?"
I sneered. Ernest didn’t respond.
’No way he’d admit he was wandering around to satisfy his urge to kill.’
I tapped the tip of my foot against Ernest’s shin, signaling him to move.
Reviews
All reviews (0)