Walking out the door with a kitchen knife to hack it out with Amos was neither practical nor secure.
Annan had never favored such aggressive tactics.
Though he had now lost half of his emotions, Annan believed he should be a cautious person who preferred to grow and develop.
Being cautious ant not taking the risk to overextend and kill.
Because overextending could lead to being killed in return.
The correct approach was to eliminate the opponent before they entered the range of their defense tower.
As one could imagine, this was both a very rational and cautious strategy.
Following this philosophy, Annan did not carry the kitchen knife directly in his hand.
He specifically chose a rather thick coat and wore a sweater underneath. While such clothing could be warm, it was bearable. Because it enabled Annan to hang several kitchen knives at the back, chest and armpits of the coat.
He slid the knives through the sweater first, and then through the coat, securing the blades to his body much like toothpicks used to hold together bacon rolls. These were positions from which Annan could easily retrieve the knives.
Unfortunately, this could only accommodate the smaller kitchen knives.
The largest one—the one Annan had very smoothly thrown—couldn’t be managed so easily.
Annan hid it in Elle’s piano room, near the door.
Yes, Elle had a piano room of her own, which housed... a piano.
Although Annan didn’t know who had invented the piano in this world or when it had co into existence, he was well aware that it was definitely not cheap.
This was probably the reason Elle ntioned wanting "to go to a concert" in her diary.
Regrettably, Annan did not know how to play the piano. Fortunately, Amos was not shaless enough to co over with a façade of wanting "a little serenade for daddy," so the secret was unlikely to be exposed anyti soon.
Annan’s intuition told him that this piano might be related to either a high-difficulty or low-difficulty instance.
The death flags on the third floor were currently quite rare. As long as players didn’t wander off and mind their own business, they would just have enough ti to finish reading those three books in the study.
Had Annan not cautiously brought the kitchen knife into the study, when Amos returned ho and the painting scread, Annan would definitely have fainted inside, only to be discovered by Amos... or it was possible that he could have been killed by the howling.
After all, when he threw the knife, Annan clearly saw so change in the light and shadow effects inside the study. It was only his quick response that likely prevented more creatures from spawning.
After all, "the guardian spirit could move freely through all the paintings made with this kind of pignt by this artist."
In a sense, the first half of this instance was a sort of ti-sensitive challenge with stealth and investigative chanics—emphasizing that hesitation could lead to defeat, and there was no ti to waste.
What about the second half?
Was the cake poisoned? Would eating it cause hallucinations?
Or was it that consuming the cake purchased by Amos or drinking the tea he brewed would result in falling unconscious?
Whatever the chanism, Annan did not plan to discover it with his own body.
He decided...
"Amos, co here quickly!"
Annan forcefully shut the door of the piano room and then let out a sowhat panicked scream, "It’s... it’s not right, it looks like soone has tampered with it!"
He didn’t specifically ntion the piano because he was not sure what the instrunt was called in this world and was afraid of using the wrong na.
Annan was very cautious.
Another reason was...
He knew that if he said this, then Amos would not be able to stay calm.
In his study, there were secrets that could not see the light of day. Whether it was a thief or a revenant that touched the piano, he could not call the police.
"What?!"
Amos was instantly shocked.
His first instinct was indeed to check the study. But with Annan’s repeated, sobbing urgings, he hurried over instead.
However, Annan soon felt grateful for having called Amos over and not having gone to see Elle’s father with the kitchen knife he had temporarily nad "Frost’s Sorrow" —
Because Annan clearly saw Amos pull a revolver from behind his back. And it seed it was no ordinary gun... The barrel was inscribed with a line of shiny, silver text that Annan couldn’t understand. The caliber was frighteningly large.
At least, Annan was sure that for Elle, a normal person like himself, the power of this gun was certainly lethal.
"...Is there soone inside?"
Amos asked in a low voice.
"I didn’t get a clear look," Annan replied in a voice just as low, full of fear, "but I saw... the curtain just moved a little, as if there’s soone!"
Amos looked at the tightly closed music room door, which Annan was holding firmly, and quickly pulled Annan behind him, lifting the muzzle of the gun with his right hand, his index finger lightly resting on the trigger: "Stand behind , Elle... No, stay further back."
"Be careful yourself, Amos."
Annan whispered back, his left hand on Amos’s back trembling slightly, fully revealing its owner’s fear and helplessness.
Amos then crouched and violently pushed open the door.
He squinted his eyes, holding the door with his left hand, and randomly aid around the room. But, as expected, he saw no one else.
As he slowly stepped in, he first checked behind the door—no one there.
So Amos called out, "Co out, friend!
"I see you!" he said, advancing slowly towards the thick curtain at the far end of the room, holding the gun, and shouting, "Elle, hide behind the door!"
"Okay..."
There was still so fear in Annan’s voice, slightly trembling. But clearly, the arrival of his father had emboldened "Elle"...
anwhile, Annan’s nimble right hand drew a kitchen knife from inside his coat. And his left hand slowly took out the knife from where he had hidden it before.
Then Annan aid for a mont and quickly threw the two knives one after the other at Mr. Amos!
The larger knife was heavier and chopped into Amos’s right shoulder. He couldn’t help but let out a cry of pain and, in response to the pain, his gun dropped to the floor.
The smaller knife was originally intended to strike the back of Amos’s head. But because he moved due to the pain, the sharp knife only slid into Mr. Amos’s left neck, opening a deep, bleeding wound.
At that mont, Annan drew the remaining two kitchen knives from his coat, one in each hand, and hesitated no more as he pounced.
He chopped one knife at Amos’s neck and sliced off the right hand Amos had used to block the knife, then stabbed the other knife into his eye socket.
Whether by coincidence or sothing else... Annan’s stab landed right in Amos’s left eye.
The very spot of the scorch mark on Elle’s portrait!
Seizing the opportunity, Annan tackled Amos to the ground, climbed on top of him, slit his throat, and plunged the knives into his eyes, ears, and temples. But Amos still struggled, as if he would never die, crimson paint oozing from him, oozing... profusely oozing.
It dripped onto the floor, spreading a bright red. Then it surged, like a collapsing dam, the red liquid gushed from the cracks in the screaming Amos, quickly flooding the entire room.
Annan felt as though he was subrged in an ocean, a strong sensation of suffocation overpowering him. The whole world seed to be nothing but this gurgling red ocean...
He struggled in this red sea, gradually losing consciousness.
When Annan woke up again, he was still floating in the sea of blood. But he no longer felt that intense sense of suffocation, instead breathing normally, with nurous system prompts flashing before his eyes.
Only then did Annan belatedly realize...
Could it be... he had cleared the level?
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