Chapter 162

Chapter 162

Evan crouched beside the corpse of the bearded leader, gently parting the bearded leader’s wide-open eyes with his fingertips. Confirming that the pupils were already fixed and dilated, he slowly stood up. He caught his breath, his chest still rising and falling heavily from the fight. The wound on his arm, grazed by a stray bullet, oozed tiny beads of blood that stuck to his sleeve, bringing a faint sting. His gaze swept over the seven bodies lying haphazardly across the alley—from the hunter to the common thugs, every last one of them was dead. Only then did he breathe a slight sigh of relief, turning to Louis and Ista and saying, "Let’s go. Leave here as soon as possible and notify the academy to handle the aftermath."

Upon hearing this, Louis didn’t move immediately. Instead, he lifted his head, his eyes flicking past the Black Street residents hiding in the shadows of the warehouses, their eyes flickering with unease, and fixed directly on the exit at the other end of the alley. That was a narrower lane, its entrance pitch black, like a silent, hungry mouth that swallowed all the light.

A cold smirk curled at the corner of his mouth as he muttered under his breath, "This Black Street really lives up to its name—not even a single streetlamp. Even if they were installed during the initial planning, they’ve probably long been torn down for scrap or used as firewood."

Despite his words, his eyes sharpened, and his right hand instinctively tightened around the shortsword at his waist—years of training had honed his instincts, telling him that something unusual lurked within that darkness.

Ista and Evan followed Louis’s gaze, their expressions instantly turning grave. The swelling on Ista’s shoulder still throbbed with pain, but she ignored it completely now. The earth-element Supernatural Factors within her surged wildly, pushing her perception to its peak. She could clearly sense that deep within the pitch-black lane, a tremendously powerful presence lay coiled—steady and oppressive, like a slumbering beast. Though deliberately restrained, it still exuded a terrifying force far surpassing the combined strength of the three of them.

Evan’s heart sank as well. He instinctively raised his exorcism pistol, aiming its muzzle at the darkness. The memory of the assassination attempt by Supernaturals in Sheffield flooded back, tightening every nerve in his body. He could feel the crow companion Sara left inside him stirring faintly, also sensing the dangerous presence.

Almost simultaneously, the three moved closer to one another, forming a triangle, backs to each other, ready to cover one another. Evan’s exorcism pistol was ready to fire at any moment, the Light runes on the gun faintly glowing in the dim light; Louis had already drawn his shortsword, the blade pressed against his arm, poised for a sudden strike; Ista held her longsword horizontally in front of her, earth-element energy slowly gathering beneath her feet. At the slightest sign of movement from the opponent, she could instantly summon a stone wall for defense or conjure stone spikes for a counterattack.

The air in the alley seemed to freeze. The Black Street residents, who had been hiding in the shadows, also sensed something amiss, shrinking back further, not daring to breathe. The entrance to the dark lane stayed completely quiet. That powerful presence seemed to merge with the darkness, neither advancing nor retreating, as if silently observing them or waiting for something. Evan, Louis, and Ista gripped their weapons tightly, their eyes locked on the darkness. Sweat trickled down their cheeks, dripping onto the bloodstained ground, yet none dared to look away—they all knew that this hidden powerhouse in the shadows might be far more dangerous than the seven bandits they had just faced.

At the entrance of the dark lane, silence hung like an impenetrable web, enveloping the entire alley. The three’s breathing grew exceptionally light, their gazes fixed on the darkness that devoured the light. Their knuckles were white from gripping too hard, the cold gleam of their weapons flickering faintly in the gloom. Supernatural Factors churned wildly within them: the runes on Evan’s exorcism pistol grew brighter, a faint breeze of wind-element energy swirled around the edge of Louis’s shortsword, and tiny earth-element protrusions formed beneath Ista’s feet. All three were ready for battle at any moment.

Just then, a faint sound of footsteps emerged from the darkness—“Tap, tap, tap”—slow and unhurried, each step landing on the trio’s taut nerves, shattering the dead silence. As the footsteps drew nearer, a slender figure gradually stepped out of the darkness, her silhouette becoming clearer under the faint light.

It was a red-haired woman. She wore a knee-length black trench coat with excellent drape, swaying gently with her steps, revealing a fitted black dress underneath that accentuated her curvaceous figure. Her striking red hair cascaded over her shoulders like a waterfall, the ends slightly curled, standing out vividly in the gloom of Black Street. Her face bore delicate makeup, her eyes slightly upturned at the corners, and her lips, painted a vivid red, curved into a faint, enigmatic smile. Her gaze was languid yet sharp, as if checking out three fun toys instead of three armed guys.

When she fully emerged from the darkness and stood in the center of the alley, an aura far more formidable than before radiated outward—the kind of crushing pressure you only feel from a Sequence 7 powerhouse, crashing down on Evan, Louis, and Ista like an invisible tidal wave. Evan felt his chest tighten, his breathing instantly becoming labored. The wound on his arm throbbed with pain, and his Supernatural Factors seemed to encounter a natural enemy, their circulation slowing abruptly. Louis’s hand trembled as he held his shortsword, the wind element he had gathered dissipating instantly. Years of street instincts urged him to retreat, but the aura locked onto him, making it impossible to move. The earth-element protrusions beneath Ista’s feet shattered in an instant. She gritted her teeth, forcing her supernatural power to resist, but the swelling on her shoulder sent searing pain through her, draining the color from her face.

"Three little ones, not bad—you managed to take out all these scum of Black Street," the red-haired woman spoke, her voice carrying a lazy huskiness yet piercing through the silent alley with clarity. Her gaze slowly swept over the trio, lingering briefly on Evan’s exorcism pistol and Ista’s longsword, her smile deepening. "Students from the Imperial Knight Academy? Young, but ruthless. Interesting."

Evan suppressed the shock and pressure weighing on him, forcing himself to speak. His voice was hoarse from tension: "Who are you? Why are you here?" He could clearly feel that the red-haired woman’s strength far exceeded their imagination. A Sequence 7 powerhouse, even just standing there casually, left them utterly defenseless. The fatigue and minor injuries from the battle moments ago now felt magnified tenfold.