Night Journey

Chapter 169 Ink Mark
One second, everyone was still immersed in the warmth and relaxed conversation amidst the downpour; the next second, all the beauty shattered.

"what happens?"

Paul nervously approached the doorway, gazing at the torrential rain, flames, and thick smoke rising. Seconds later, a shockwave swept through the streets, bringing with it a fierce gust of wind.

"Declare war..."

Wenxi murmured, "This...this is Reverse Falcon's declaration of war."

As the number one fans of the reverse falcon, they naturally heard the rumors circulating in the streets and alleys.

The City Guard Bureau has eliminated the evil claws; the next step is to punish the Reverse Falcon.

They fantasized that the Reverse Falcon would disappear again, or linger outside the city guard bureau's sight, like a ghost.

But no one expected that the Falcon's counterattack would be so deadly.

Wensey wrapped her arms around Paul's, pulling them tighter as if she wanted to embed herself into his body.

The sudden series of explosions shattered the order and tranquility of Hull, and fear and unease grew wildly under the rain.

Elton appeared more composed than the two men who were panicking.

Even though he was an ordinary person, a marginalized clerical worker, he was still a member of the City Guard Bureau, wearing a shield with intersecting rivers on his chest.

Elton forced himself to be brave, straightened his back, and replaced the gentleness on his face with an unusual seriousness.

My brain raced, trying to understand the logic and level of threat behind this crazy scene.

Paul glanced out the door. The rain continued, blurring the city into a hazy expanse, but the tranquility and peace were gone, replaced by lurking danger.

He understood that venturing into the rain at this moment would be tantamount to stepping into a chaotic minefield.

"Martin..."

Paul's voice, tinged with a barely perceptible plea, broke the suffocating silence.

He looked at the bartender behind the bar, who remained as calm as a rock. "Can we stay here for now, until... until things become clearer?"

Martin slowly and methodically wiped the glass in his hand with a clean, soft white cloth, his movements so steady that it was as if nothing had happened.

He looked up at Paul, his voice as calm as if he were talking about the weather.

"Of course you can. You can stay here as long as the rain stops."

Upon hearing Martin's affirmative reply, Paul's tense shoulders finally relaxed, and he let out a long sigh of relief.

During a casual chat at a previous gathering, he had heard Mae Fonnie mention that the Ink House had a background with superhumans, and that the bartender Martin might be a powerful superhuman.

Paul felt a temporary sense of relief and whispered words of comfort.

"Don't be afraid, we are safe here."

Wenxi buried her face in his chest and nodded silently. Elton's tense nerves relaxed slightly, but he did not let his guard down and his eyes remained fixed on the door.

The expected city-wide sirens failed to sound; instead, upbeat disco music filled the air.

The sudden singing startled everyone slightly. Before they could discuss whether the staff had tuned to the wrong channel, a rustling crawling sound came clearly from the noisy rain.

Elton was the first to notice something was wrong and looked warily towards the door.

Deep in the alley, shadowy figures began to emerge.

At first, they were just blurry outlines, wriggling in the rising mist of the rain, but soon their shapes became clear and terrifying.

Those were walking corpses!

Their skin was a ghastly white, as if it had been soaked in water for a long time, covered with cracks, festering sores, and deep wounds that exposed bone. Their clothes were tattered and covered with mud and unidentified filth, clinging tightly to their swollen and deformed limbs.

The zombies moved slowly, each step feeling like they were treading on mud, making a sticky "plop plop" sound, and they staggered toward the Ink House with a clear goal in mind.

"This……"

Wenxi's body trembled involuntarily as she relived that nightmare from the previous night.

Fighting her fear, she cried out, "Quick! Lock them outside!"

"No, Wendy! Closing the door won't help!"

Elton's voice was resolute, his eyes unusually calm, "The erosion of chaos is localized; even if you close the door, it will seep in like mist!"

He didn't have time to figure out where these zombies came from or what kind of drastic changes had taken place in Hull City.

At that moment, countless images flashed through Elton's mind.

That timid clerk in the corner of the office, who only wanted a peaceful life; that coward who was so frightened by the attack in the middle of the night that his legs went weak and he could only hide; that coward who was full of confusion about the future and only dared to yearn for the distance in his heart...

Elton hated this version of himself.

Anyone would hate themselves like this. He had made up his mind to leave this steel cage with Cillian and go to that distant, lonely city of towers.

After leaving Hull City, Elton will not only have to spend the night in the wilderness, but also face real chaotic demons that are even more terrifying than the zombies in front of him, as well as various potential dangers.

If he can't even face these weak zombies in front of him, how can he survive on that path? How can he not become a burden to Cirion?

And what makes you think you can reach the City of the Lonely Tower alive?

An unprecedented courage, mixed with contempt for the past and longing for the future, burned fiercely in Elton's chest.

"According to the City Guard Bureau's rules..."

Elton's voice was unusually steady: "When ordinary people encounter an enemy with chaotic power, the first principle is to remain calm, keep as far away as possible while ensuring their own safety, find cover, and try to warn the authorities."

As he spoke, he deftly unbuttoned his coat and quickly reached for his waist.

There, he steadily drew a pistol with a cold, hard metallic sheen. The icy grip on the handle brought a strange sense of calm.

Since that nighttime attack, he has never parted with this gun. He even secretly practiced at the shooting range a few times, although his results were disastrous.

Elton took a deep breath, turned to the side, used the door frame as cover, and quickly raised his gun to aim.

boom!boom!
The gunshots were particularly deafening in the relatively enclosed ink room.

The first shot struck the damp stone wall of the alley, sending up a trail of sparks and gravel. The second shot grazed the shoulder of the nearest zombie, taking only a few pieces of rotting flesh and filthy cloth with it.

The zombie only staggered slightly before continuing its distorted gait.

"Damn it!"

Elton cursed under his breath, his cheeks burning slightly with tension and shame.

He wasn't a good shooter, and he knew it perfectly well. Wensey and Paul held their breath behind him.

Elton struggled to recall the instructor's vague instructions at the shooting range, steadied his breathing, aligned his three points, and pre-pressed the trigger... He aimed again, this time locking onto the walker's head.

boom!
A third shot rang out!
This time, the bullet did not miss.

The zombie's head, like a rotten watermelon smashed by a heavy hammer, snapped backward, bursting open with the sound of bones shattering and splattering dark red viscous matter, yellowish-white brain matter, and broken wires!

The headless torso swayed stiffly in place, like a rotten log, before falling heavily into the muddy alley. The blood was quickly washed away by the rain, mixing with the mud and emitting an even stronger stench.

"You hit it!" Paul couldn't help but exclaim softly, his voice filled with the relief of surviving a close call.

The good news is that, as the city guard records show, under the suppression of daylight, the power of these zombies was greatly weakened, and the remaining chaotic power could not last long.

Without pausing, Elton quickly moved the muzzle of his gun and fired two shots in quick succession, taking down the two zombies.

However, when he pulled the trigger again, he only heard a crisp, desperate click.

Empty position, idle trading!

The last bullet had been fired, and cold sweat instantly soaked Elton's back.

He instinctively reached for his spare magazine, only to find his waist empty.

Elton was just an office worker; he carried at most a full magazine for self-defense and didn't prepare any more ammunition.

Although three zombies had fallen in the alley, more pale, swaying figures continued to emerge from the depths of the rain, carrying a suffocating stench of decay, approaching the ink house, the lights, and the scent of the living step by step.

Elton gritted his teeth, turned around and took the decorative sword and axe from the wall, and mustered his courage to stand guard at the door.

Just as he began to reflect on his past life, the pent-up emotions and all the regrets, a vibrant color suddenly appeared behind the monotonous paleness.

Elton blinked, his expression growing even more terrified, and shouted.

What are you doing here? Get out of here!

"what?"

The visitor, holding an umbrella, waved the invitation in his hand and responded.

"Didn't you invite me to the party?"

Elton paused for a moment, thinking, "Damn it, why does this young lady have to be so stubborn at this time? Can't she just listen to me for once?"

"Oh? What are these? They're disgusting."

Mafoni threw down her umbrella in disgust, rain streaming down her face.

"Damn it, my makeup is ruined."

As she spoke, the radiant light of energy in her eyes flashed and then vanished.

Meifuni's fingertips swept through the air, suddenly leaving a trail of jet-black ink that transformed into a tangible spear, which she held firmly in her palm.

They immediately began to dance, and the zombies shattered and collapsed!
(End of this chapter)