Yuumaru half leaned on the dressing table before he could steady himself.
The woman stood a few steps away. Her loose nightgown hung loosely over her thin shoulders as if it would fall off at any time. Like Yuumaru, she took a light breath and stared unblinkingly at the dark and gradually opening door of the dressing room.
Anyone could see that it was not an ordinary darkness.
The warm orange light in the dressing room fell into the gap of the door, but it could not penetrate the darkness. Instead, it seemed to be illuminating a dark balloon, faintly reflecting light.
Unknowingly, the dark "balloon" had slowly expanded and slowly pushed open the door.
No matter what it was, it did not seem to be in a hurry to come in.
It blocked the only exit, and the two people in the room could only stare at it, not daring to look away. For a moment, only the two people in the dressing room were left gasping for breath.
"You see, I did not lie to you."
Yuumaru stared at the darkness. He turned back and searched the table a few times. He found a wrinkled pack of cigarettes and a box of matches next to it. He took out a cigarette and put it in his mouth. He struck a match and a spark appeared between his fingers.
He inhaled a mouthful of smoke mixed with the smell of blood.
As he lit the second match, the spark drew a parabola and fell into the darkness in the gap of the door. When the two collided, there was a very subtle movement. It was like a lightning strike in the silent dressing room, and the two people clearly saw it.
The match sank into the darkness and did not fall to the ground for a long time.
The darkness just rolled slightly, and the match disappeared without a trace.
"What was that?" she asked in a low voice. It seemed that she had finally begun to realize that something was wrong.
Sonoru Onamaru had never heard a woman's voice before. It was as thick as blood, sticky, slippery, and it would flow down his ears … He looked down. Her earring was still deeply embedded in the wound on his leg. A teardrop-like diamond shone brightly in the bloody mess.
"It should be the thing that killed your subordinate in the second carriage," he said.
Perhaps it was because he had lost a lot of blood, but at the moment, he felt dizzy as if he had drunk alcohol.
So what if there was an unknown danger in front of him?
The Free Cities were too big, and there was no shortage of strange and inexplicable things. No matter what this darkness was, Yuumaru only saw a future in it: a future in which he would personally press this woman into the darkness.
Only when she died would the blood of Xiao Long and the others that she had devoured flow out of her body.
He was waiting for Darkness to come into the room.
As for what he would do — Hinomaru never considered the consequences of his actions. At that time, he would find a way out of her ruins.
If he couldn't find it, then forget it.
"What do you plan to do?"
He seemed to have nothing to do with it, and even said with a hoarse smile, "Darkness has come, and your subordinates on the second train have all disappeared … What should I do? You are the only one left. "
Before he could finish his sentence, an indescribable sound made both of them shudder. When they looked up, they saw a hand reaching out from the crack of the door and holding on to the doorknob.
"Mother?" A man's voice said. It seemed like he hadn't spoken for a long time, and his tongue wasn't very agile. "Are … are you here?"
The honorific for her — f * ck.
Yuumaru cursed his luck in his heart, and his muscles tensed up. Just as he was mentally prepared for another fierce battle, his train of thought came to a halt.
An unfamiliar face slowly emerged from the darkness behind the door; it was like a corpse floating up from the depths of an ink-black pool. For a moment, only a particularly pale face and a hand could be seen clearly.
The eyes on the face turned and stopped at the woman. "… Mother, we are ready to go. The second train has been arranged …"
A series of sudden bursts of fire tore through the air, and bullets hit the face one after another. The dazzling white light flickered in the surrounding darkness.
Yuumaru turned his head abruptly, and saw his Scorpion submachine gun in her raised right hand.
Amidst the loud and deafening gunshots, the man's "Mother" was shaky and intermittent, and it was quickly drowned out.
When all the bullets in the gun were finally emptied, Yuumaru happened to catch a glimpse of the scene: the face seemed to be washed away by the ink, and it poured down like a waterfall. Before it hit the ground, it had already turned back into darkness, and completely melted into the door, disappearing without a trace along with so many bullets.
… But his hand was still on the doorknob.
What the hell is this?
None of the urban legends in the Free Cities could match the scene in front of him. Yuumaru looked around and found that he couldn't find a weapon at hand. Even if there was a weapon, he didn't know what it could do.
"What's going on …?"
"He is one of the people I sent to clean up the mess," the woman said as she quickly picked up the small pistol on the ground. "What he said was the announcement he made to me forty minutes ago."
The ambush on the second train, could it be that … they have all been drawn into the darkness?
The small pistol was raised halfway, and then it stopped. She seemed to have realized that shooting would only be a waste of bullets, and probably wouldn't be of much use.
It seemed that the room had been shaken by the gunfire for a while, and the darkness was still rolling around the half-opened door.
Yuumaru threw the cigarette butt into the blood-soaked carpet, and the sparks went out after a few breaths.
He straightened up, dragged his injured leg, and faced the darkness, step by step, and walked towards the door.
"What are you doing?" She immediately asked in a low voice.
It was strange that the sound of gunfire was much louder than the sound of talking. Both of them dared to shoot, but they were unwilling to speak loudly.
Yuumaru silently pointed to the front. The chair that the two of them had used to fight for their lives was now in the middle of the room, not far from the door.
He stared at the hand that stretched out from the darkness, getting closer and closer to it. When he was still a few steps away, he could touch the darkness, and the darkness could also touch him. He bent down and picked up the chair as quietly as he could.
Before he could do anything, he heard the woman suddenly order, "Squat down."
Yuumaru's head was cut by a bullet before the word "squat" had even fallen to the ground.
She didn't even have the intention to confirm whether Yuumaru heard her or not. She fired as soon as she said that. If he hadn't knelt on the ground immediately, there would have been a hole in his temple.
Yuumaru was pressed down by the sharp whistle of the airflow above his head and the deafening gunshot. He narrowed his eyes and quickly glanced at the door.
Juan's face was floating a few inches above his head. Before one of the eyeballs was engulfed by the bullet, the black eyeball turned down and met his gaze.
Even Yuumaru Minoru was stunned for a moment.
The power of the pistol was far less than that of the Scorpion submachine gun. Juan's face was like the surface of a lake that had been hit by the rain, undulating and flickering uneasily. It was obvious that it had lost its shape, but it still managed to float above the darkness. It was just that with every gunshot, his face seemed to retreat a little.
As soon as the gunshots stopped, Yuumaru immediately stood up with his uninjured leg. At the same time, he swung his right hand in an arc in the air. The make-up chair smashed into the door, and with a loud bang, the chair shattered into pieces. The door finally closed slowly and slowly. Even with such a heavy force, it seemed that the door was barely closed.
The sound of the rack on the door closing was especially soft, as if the door would slide open again if he pushed it with the tip of his fingernail.
"Hold the door down," the woman seemed to treat him as a subordinate, ordering one after another. "Buy me some time."
Yuumaru panted as he approached the door. He obediently put his hand on the door. He looked at the dark gap under the door. It was only a few centimeters away from his toes.
Reach in if you can, he thought to himself. Let me see what you are.
"What are you doing?" He turned around and asked.
She was crouching on the ground, looking for something on the ground that looked like a ruin. Her long dress had spread into a pool of blood.
"Just wait," she said. Obviously, she did not have the habit of explaining things to people.
Yukaru Sonomaru suddenly laughed. He did not know where the laughter came from, but the current situation really made him want to laugh. The two people who had been fighting for life and death just a minute or two ago had now stopped talking about it at the same time. It was as if a director had shouted for them to stop, and they took the opportunity to move on to the next scene.
Even if tonight might be the last night of this false life, he still felt that it was funny.
The woman raised her head, and her face was reflected in the make-up mirror. He had seen many beautiful women, but there was no face like hers that could let him see a world that was sinking into darkness. It was really suitable for tonight.
She looked at Yuumaru in the mirror and seemed to feel the same absurdity. She also laughed.
"Constantine," she murmured hoarsely.
Constantine, Constantine.
Between his teeth and tongue, her name was silently bitten on his lips.
"Yuumaru."
She slowly licked her lips that were broken. The dried blood was licked away, and fresh blood oozed out.
It was as if his name was swallowed along with her blood.
"What do you think is outside the door?" Yuumaru glanced at the gap under the door and asked.
"I don't care." Constantine straightened up, and there was something in his hand. It was the mobile phone that she was looking at when he entered the door.
Yuumaru was not surprised. He thought for a moment and shrugged.
He did not care. After seeing the darkness in the carriage, he still followed the plan and calmly killed Juan.
They were people who lived in darkness. One day, this darkness changed to another darkness. It made no difference to them.
"The pianist," Constantine noticed his gaze and explained, "I told him to wait downstairs."
"The club may be filled with darkness …"
"Let him blow it up," Constantine said, holding up the mobile phone. "Didn't you try it once?"
Blowing up half a carriage or half a building — there was not much difference.
Constantine was not a good match for something like a mobile phone. He watched as the phone pressed against her cheek. In the silent room, he heard the faint sound of a call from inside the phone.
Then, a clear ringtone sounded outside the door.
I really regret it. If I could travel back to July 26th, I would definitely grab myself by the collar and try to stop me from writing this story … I'm too stuck. I've been writing this chapter for almost two days. Should I speed up and finish this story quickly …?
By the way, you can search for the "King's Glory Magic Pen Plan" on Qidian. On August 19th, it will be my turn to write Milady. Let's discuss the price first. How much is the price for an awkward flattery?
(End of Chapter)
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