Gun of Ashes
Chapter 58 - 43 Extinguished Torch

Chapter 58: Chapter 43 Extinguished Torch

Outer City District, East Yilins District, Cork Street 121A.

A week has passed since that crazy night. During this time, no one has come to visit, and nothing strange has happened. It’s all like a dream, with nothing left once you’ve woken up.

Lorenzo tried to look for Bola, armed with ammunition under his dark coat, ready to slaughter the city. But unfortunately, Bola was unaware of what had happened and hadn’t appeared for many days.

Lying in the bathtub, the warm water washed away the fatigue from his body. His entire body was soaked in the warm water, enjoying the hard-earned tranquility.

Mrs. Van Rudd is taking a nap, and his cheap roommate seems to be working overtime at the factory, so it can be said that Lorenzo is the only one left in this small house.

Above him is a dim light, and life hums from the street. He relaxes unwittingly, picks up a cigarette, and takes a hard drag. It feels quite nice.

Lorenzo hasn’t encountered demons for many years. Clearly he was about to break his connection with the darkness, but it seems the grotesque darkness won’t let him go. Just when he was about to forget, it grabbed him.

Climbing out of the bathtub, wrapped in a white towel, he walks, damp, towards his room. His wounds are still self-healing. Apart from more serious injuries, some smaller ones have mostly healed, leaving dark red marks yet to recover.

Since that night, not only has Bola not contacted him, but Eve has also lost touch. Lorenzo doesn’t care about this; currently, only a few doubts are troubling him.

What can be ascertained is that Wol’s anomaly is demonization. He is a crew member of the Silverfish and has come into contact with the mysterious Holy Coffin. It can be confirmed that everyone on that ship was contaminated, meaning at least sixteen potential demons are roaming the city.

The next suspicion is about the mysterious organization that attacked the Underground Palace that night. I remember encountering a heap of Stomach Chewing Grass in the secret passage, but nothing unusual happened in Old Dunling after that night. Thus, the only conclusion is that the mysterious organization handled everything perfectly.

Underestimating the scale, Lorenzo’s speculation is that the mysterious organization should not be smaller than the Demon Hunting Order.

What a nuisance...

Things have gradually become clearer. This is a contest between two mysterious organizations, and he is the unlucky one caught in the middle.

The only unclear part is Bola’s role in this matter. Lorenzo always thought of him as an underground emperor, earning wealth through smuggling, but now it seems Bola is also full of doubts.

Sighing, Lorenzo dressed, tidied up, and left home.

The Winchester was hidden under his coat, pressed close to his body. His black deerstalker was pulled down firmly, slightly hiding his gray-blue eyes. The Staff Sword was broken in a battle with Sabo, and his new weapon was still being forged at the blacksmith.

"How unusual..."

He lifted his head; endless light poured down from the overcast sky. Hard to believe, today’s Old Dunling was actually a bit brighter. Although the clouds still lingered, at least they had split slightly, allowing light to pour down.

Lorenzo has embraced a new life. He shouldn’t be involved in these matters. The best choice now would be to buy a ticket for a trip and take a good break. But everyone should have a bottom line. Although Lorenzo, someone so unpleasant, is hard to associate with the term ’bottom line,’ it can be said with confidence this person indeed has a bottom line—it is simply too low, about five meters underground.

Passing a flower shop on the street, he bought a white flower, as if going to meet a lovely lady, humming a tune.

Boarding the steam train, watching the scenery slowly fade away, Lorenzo is full of anticipation.

This is one of his hobbies: randomly picking a steam train and riding it all the way to the terminus. Due to the speed and size of Old Dunling, this activity usually lasts a whole day.

After several hours, Lorenzo finally reached the terminus.

It’s rare that it’s not shrouded by clouds here. The dilapidated church stands on the barren grassland. Not far away is the steel city, where steam and railroads are gradually devouring this place. It seems in a few more years, this will also become part of the iron.

When Lorenzo first arrived in Old Dunling a few years ago, there were still some priests here. But people nearby have gone to the factories in the city, so gradually, all the people have left. In the end, even the priests gave up. Only Lorenzo occasionally comes here to visit friends.

Stepping over weeds and barbed wire, Lorenzo finds the heavily weathered tombstone among a pile of rubble. The engraving is long unreadable; if it weren’t for Lorenzo’s memory, no one would recognize it as a tombstone.

"Good morning!"

Lorenzo greeted with full spirits, then placed the white flower from his chest beneath the tombstone.

"Ah, every time I come here, there’s a sense of ’how long have you been dead?’"

Without the solemnity of paying respects to others, like confronting an enemy’s grave saying, "Bet you didn’t expect! I’ve lived longer than you."

Jokingly for a while, Lorenzo seemed to have trouble feeling happy. He didn’t think he would return here one day, seemingly a fated rendezvous.

Silently for a long time, his gaze sharp, he suddenly drew his Winchester, muttering prayers under his breath, then pulled the trigger.