New Gods of North America.

Chapter 625 Waiting in Place
The people in the small square quickly split up and took action.
Wayne rode on horseback for the first time in a long time, speeding along at night with the two monks, and drove to a place in the dock area that he hadn't explored much before.

This area is roughly a centralized warehousing zone for the docks. The roads are wider than many residential areas in the dock district, but the maintenance is also worse; streetlights are only available at intersections.
Although ordinary people are not allowed to ride horses in the city, and soft bags for collecting horse manure have become common on various horse-drawn carriages, the amount of manure scattered on the road and not cleaned up in time is still similar to that in some western towns where people ride horses. The smell is not particularly strong, but it is not nonexistent.

Looking around, all that could be seen were large, walled warehouses. Although there were scattered lights and the occasional barking of dogs, the area was still dark and quiet, even compared to the residential areas of the docks.

According to the mission assignment, Wayne and his team were responsible for the most important emergency rescue, so the area they arrived in was theoretically located roughly at the center of all "possibilities."

There are no suspicious nodes nearby that they need to investigate. Their task is to stay put and then go to provide reinforcements as soon as they see fireworks of the corresponding color.

Because Wayne received first aid from everyone at the scene last night, his ability to absorb extra extraordinary power from others is essentially an open secret.
Although Brother Merlin stated that he would not disclose it to the outside world, such unavoidable details will probably be written into the monks' mission reports sooner or later. It feels like it will at least be written into the cathedral's internal archives, and anyone who wants to find out will know it, and it will no longer be considered a "secret".

However, many things are a matter of good and bad fortune. For example, the other two monks in Wayne's group were now showing considerable respect for Wayne.
This respect is not the kind of respect that subordinates have for their superiors, but rather the kind of respect that ordinary people have for doctors and other professionals who save lives.

“Mr. Wayne, you can find a place to rest nearby for a while. If we find anything, we will notify you in time so we can go together.”

"Thank you, but there's no need for that. I'm from the West; I can spend the night in the wilderness, and working all night is normal for private investigators."

As Wayne answered politely, he pulled out another candle from a large toolbox that resembled a carpenter's carrying case. "What's this candle for? It looks different from the previous one."

These are the first-aid kits that the two monks brought with them; one for each of them.
Perhaps because Wayne had also helped several monks at the scene last night, or perhaps because everyone was currently a first-aid worker, the two monks were quite generous in sharing supplies, handing over the entire box and telling Wayne to take whatever he needed.

One of the monks glanced at it briefly and said, "This is also used to dispel evil spirits. The effect of the previous candles was to directly suppress evil spirits, while this one is gentler, focusing on 'protection' after the exorcism and 'stability' for the people."

"I see." Wayne nodded, picked up a cigarette, and casually stuffed it into his horse's saddlebag.

The box contained mostly bottles and jars, as well as cotton yarn, rolls of cloth, needles, syringes, and even some strange knives and a small bone saw.
Wayne had already worked on several things and was about to continue researching the potion when he picked up a sealed test tube that looked expensive but light, then quickly put it back and closed the toolbox.

"What's wrong?" The monk next to him noticed Wayne's actions and asked.

Wayne patted the horse's back twice and lowered his voice slightly, "Someone is sneaking close, and there seem to be quite a few of them."

While monks may be highly skilled in exorcising evil spirits, they may not have many opportunities to deal with bad people.

These two monks were not part of Merlin's direct team; they were medical support staff temporarily left behind after the cathedral's emergency reinforcements last night, so they probably had even less on-site experience.

Some signs were actually quite easy to spot. For example, a few more barks had inexplicably sounded a little further away. This area wasn't enclosed, and Wayne had initially thought someone had just happened to pass by.
However, there were no extra lights or footsteps nearby, yet the horses suddenly became alert, indicating that the other party was not a normal passerby, but rather deliberately concealing their tracks.

It had a "doing things quietly, without firing a shot" feel to it, making it seem rather furtive.

The reason why they felt the other side had a large number of people was because the horses were not looking in the same direction.

Horses have exceptionally keen hearing and a keen sense of smell, almost on par with dogs. In the wilderness, they can even locate water sources from several kilometers away. They are also highly alert, often detecting the approach of wild animals before humans do.

Unfortunately, they don't actually make much noise. They retain the quiet nature of herbivores, and their initial agitation is usually quite mild. If people don't pay attention, by the time they suddenly hear a horse neighing, it's usually already too late for trouble.

Furthermore, domesticated horses often exhibit a degree of desensitization to a small number of terrifying upright apes. Unless the apes constantly make rustling noises, the horses usually adapt after a short period of tension—this is how many horse thefts in the West occur; typically, the horses only start making noise after the thief has ridden onto them.
Unlike dogs, who greet strangers warmly even from a distance, this one... The minimalist lines of the view subtly opened up, and the darkness beyond the streetlights lost its protective function. Although the "lens" could only move so far, Wayne quickly grasped the situation.

He pulled out the spare pistol and lever-action rifle from his horse and handed them to the two monks discreetly. "There are people coming from both directions, and they seem to be heading straight for us. Take these weapons just in case."

One of the monks' expressions immediately turned solemn: "Are you from the Tranquility Cult?"

Wayne was a little embarrassed. "I reckon there were about a dozen of them, and they seemed to be carrying knives and clubs. They looked more like gangsters. It's easy to offend people in this private detective job. I guess someone's here for revenge again."

"Then what should we do?" The other monk didn't care how Wayne came to his conclusion, he only asked for a solution.

Wayne had already prepared the German-made bolt-action rifle, with a hole punched in a saddlebag protruding from the barrel and a section of the stock showing.

He moved the horse bag to a more convenient spot next to the reins. "Before they surround us, let's mount up at the same time on the count of 'one, two, three,' and find another place to wait. There's a lot going on tonight, so ensuring the safety of everyone else is more important. Their horses aren't nearby, so they shouldn't be able to catch us."

The monks clearly didn't want any further complications, and quickly nodded: "Okay, we'll do as you say."

Hmph, we're busy fighting the followers of evil gods and "saving the world," we don't have time to deal with you little punks.
Otherwise, if I were to engage in guerrilla warfare on horseback, and I were to use my vision to fight at night, it would be uncertain who would ultimately ambush whom.

The three quickly and quietly took their positions. Wayne had just finished counting down "one, two, three" when a small bright spot appeared in the night, accompanied by a cry of "Help—" which shot into the air.
Wayne and the two monks turned their heads at the same time, and then with a "bang," a not very flashy firework bloomed in the darkness, a dazzling light that gradually fell and dissipated.

"Red! This is the signal that each group should send out tonight if they need emergency medical assistance!" Ignoring any slogans, the three of them immediately mounted their horses in unison.

Fortunately, to make it easier to pick out things, their waiting spot was a crossroads with streetlights. Wayne pointed in one direction and said, "There doesn't look like anyone over there. Let's just shake them off."

The increasingly frequent sound of horses' hooves soon broke the silence of the surrounding area.

Although those hiding in the shadows also reflexively started to move and rushed over in a swarm, the crossroads of this day and age are only so wide. If they just turned slightly, these guys who are still stuck in the era of cold weapons would probably only be chasing after the horse's tail and eating its dust.

"boom--"

"Bang, bang, bang, bang!"

"Humming!"

"Oh!"

Wayne turned his head in shock and saw that a monk's horse had been hit by a series of gunshots. It reared up in response, and the person on its back was thrown to the ground.
Wayne himself was also in pain in his shoulder, as if he had been punched hard near his collarbone. The bullet was probably stuck between the bones, and there was still some warmth spreading along his clothes.

Gang members' revenge is usually hierarchical. Normally, if they carry clubs, it almost always implies that they only want to "beat someone up." Knives are usually more for intimidation, with the intention to harm outweighing the intention to kill. In such cases, the deaths are mostly due to "accidental hitting" or "injuries not being treated in time."
When they truly intend to kill someone, they often lay in ambush from the very beginning with daggers or guns, without needing a group of people carrying sticks or similar weapons to intimidate them.

The bolt-action rifle was quickly raised, and the bullet was fired at the silhouette of someone holding a weapon a short distance away, who hadn't yet lowered it.

Are these people crazy?! Is this how you play the game?!
(End of this chapter)