Gun of Ashes

The stone was her dagger, everything she could grasp to shatter those shackles.

”But now, don’t even mention a stone, even a sword can’t kill you, right?”

Selyu said unceremoniously, now Lorenzo was her shackle.

”Can’t help it, we do have a life-and-death bond, right? Borrowing your little life for a bit isn’t too much.”

Their relationship was somewhat distorted; clearly, it was a criminal and a hostage, yet under that bizarre trust, it was like friends on a joyful journey, reminiscing about the past, talking nonsense, and then happily walking towards death.

Selyu suddenly understood why Lorenzo got along well with Oscar; someone who could write such damn stories must understand Lorenzo’s mindset too.

The boy needed a red rose to win over the girl’s heart. With the help of a big tree, the Little Nightingale stained the fresh flower with blood for the boy’s wish, but the girl didn’t like the flower. The boy cursed love, and in the end, the flower became meaningless, vanishing into the wind.

Poor Little Nightingale died just for a little brat, but no one remembered its sacrifice.

”I suddenly feel... I am that Little Nightingale.”

Selyu looked into that darkness, but the firelight had already gone out.

”For your damned idea, I am to stain myself into a red rose with blood, not knowing if you, you little brat, will praise me.”

”Of course, I’d praise you. If I ever have a child, how about I name them after you?”

”Do you deserve it?”

”Ah ha ha ha, it’s not easy to take advantage of the Stuart family!”

Weird joy filled the dim carriage.

It’s actually a trap here, luring Dean Lawrence’s arrival.

”But don’t say that, Selyu, I hate little brats.”

The Demon Hunter’s voice echoed in the dark.

”If I had to have a role in the story, I would be that big tree.”

”The big tree?”

Selyu was somewhat puzzled. In the story, the big tree suggested the Little Nightingale make that self-sacrifice and forever lost this friend amid its melodious singing.

But Lorenzo gave him no response, lowering his eyes in the dark, gently rubbing the dial with his fingers, watching time slowly slip away.

”I am beginning to understand you, Lorenzo,”

she said.

No one can guess the heart of a Demon Hunter trying to disguise himself. He survived that fiery night and to this day still cherishes his friends.

Lorenzo lifted his head somewhat confusedly, looking at the darkness where Selyu was, clenching his fist, and each inch of the metal pocket watch was deeply imprinted into the flesh, feeling every bump and dent.

”Yeah, a person’s world does have limits. Back then, my world was that small town, but you opened a bigger door for me... Your former friends were also your world, right? Those people knew you, understood you, yet one day they all died, and there’s no one left in this world who knows your past.”

The voice was light, like a melody slowly being played.

”That Lawrence destroyed your world. If it were me, I’d kill him by any means necessary.”

”But Lorenzo, isn’t the meaning of your life too pitiful?”

Lorenzo was puzzled, ”Pitiful?”

The great detective Lorenzo Holmes, former Demon Hunter of the Medanzo branch of the Order, chatting freely with the underworld boss Bola, calling secret agency head Arthur his brother, able to slay Demons with a raise of his hand, catching mistresses with a drop.

Lorenzo’s stormy first half of life was anything but pitiful, and if told to Oscar, might result in a long novel spanning millions of words... Yet he didn’t know how to refute Selyu at the moment, as if he had been hit with the truth, making any rebuttal seem powerless.

”You are really pitiful; everyone has many meanings of existence; some for family, for children, for ideals, for a better tomorrow, even just for a delicious breakfast... In short, many things drive people to live on.”

Selyu’s voice echoed.

”But you are different, Lorenzo. The meaning of your existence is merely for revenge, killing those who took away your past. You killed Lawrence, you will continue to kill Demons, until every Demon is dead.”

”Your life, although fulfilling, with lessons attended everywhere, being a detective, in reality, is just your disguise. A lunatic can’t integrate into this society; you need to disguise yourself as more like a person.”

”But you’re not like a person. You are a weapon called Lorenzo Holmes.

Your real life is entirely filled with violence and anger. Look at how excited you are when slaying Demons; only then do you feel truly alive, only then can you return to long ago, back to the days when the Demon Hunting Order still existed, pretending your friends are still here as everyone happily slays Demons.”

Selyu summarized, also marveling at her conclusion.

”Your life is so damnable! It’s a tear-jerker for anyone who hears it!”

The voice was light and conversational like friends chatting, yet it felt so heavy.

Suddenly, something arrived, and before Lorenzo could prepare a response, he looked up sharply, and immediately cold metal pressed against his forehead, relying on a Demon Hunter’s eyesight to distinguish the person before him in the dark.

”Lorenzo, you are planning something, aren’t you?”

Selyu pressed an aluminothermic rifle against Lorenzo’s head, not knowing exactly what this thing was, but judging from its appearance, Selyu knew it was a weapon.