Miss Witch's Speed ​​Run Manual

"Lies won't save your life. It seems my mercy is unnecessary."

A hint of "anger" appeared on Charles' calm face. He put the index finger of his left hand on the trigger and took a step forward, forcing the man to crawl back two steps with difficulty.

The man's eyes widened as he watched the scene before him. He pleaded tremblingly, his voice becoming much louder by the end, even to the point of crying:

"No... I didn't lie to you... cough cough cough... I'm telling the truth, he really is in the Blackwater Bar on East Street!"

Charles paused for a moment, then slowly lowered the hammer, waving the pistol in his left hand towards the alley: "Get out of here, and don't let me see you again."

“Thank you...thank you..." The man supported himself and stood up, leaning his shoulders against the wall as he walked deeper into the alley. His hurried steps caused him to fall several times.

After walking almost ten meters, the man mustered up the courage to look back. There was only bright moonlight at the entrance of the alley, and the girl was no longer there.

He was breathing heavily, and after taking a break, he suddenly tore off his sweatshirt, rolled it into a ball, and stuffed it into the wound on his stomach, barely stopping the bleeding.

He covered the wound with his clothes and limped out of the alley from the other side. After looking back again to make sure there was no one there, he quickly turned left and ran towards West Street.

But he didn't notice at all that on the roof, there was a figure hidden in a black robe, following him slowly.

Until he passed through many alleys and saw a tavern with lights on and a sign that read "Hammer", he couldn't help but quicken his pace and ran towards the tavern with his last bit of strength.

"It's almost there... It's almost there... Boss Brad will ask a doctor to cure me..." His mind was a little blurred, and his lips were pale due to blood loss. He muttered and tried hard to walk towards the light that symbolized hope.

"Boom..."

In the alley nearby, there was a sound of something heavy falling to the ground, causing him to subconsciously turn his head and look towards the dark alley.

In the dark alley, a hand holding a blood-stained dagger stretched out. The hand raised slightly and stabbed directly into his throat in front of his desperate eyes.

“Gu…”

The weak man couldn't even utter a cry for help before his body collapsed heavily, and his breathing was replaced by the sizzling sound of a ruptured trachea mixed with blood foam.

His body was dragged bit by bit into the dark alley, as if an unknown creature hidden in the shadows was dragging its prey.

After a few dull sounds of sharp knives piercing flesh, the street fell silent again.

More than twenty seconds later, a red-haired girl walked out of the shadowy alley, holding a blood-red dagger in her left hand and wiping the blood off her face with a handkerchief in her right hand.

Charles walked out of the alley, raised his head slightly, took a deep breath of the air that was not bloody but still smelled bad, but his eyes were slightly dazed.

Although she had killed Aion once in her notebook, this was the first time she actually did it.

Even in the simulation, the feeling of blood splashing on the face is still so real. Even after wiping off the blood stains, the rusty stench still lingers at the tip of the nose.

"I just want to live a peaceful life..."

"I've tried not to provoke anyone..."

"Why did you come to me..."

"Break this peace..."

The girl spoke softly, not questioning a specific person, but rather questioning fate or God.

After a long time, she put away the blood-stained handkerchief, and a black revolver appeared in her left hand. Charles walked slowly towards the Hammer Tavern with the revolver in his hand.

Chapter 7: The Ritual is Interrupted, an Unexpected Intruder

"How's the arrangement going, Brad?"

The bright lights of the tavern illuminated the black-robed man, but they could not dispel the shadow lingering on his face beneath his hood.

"It's okay, they didn't notice anything." Brad Solari, who was sitting opposite the man in the black robe, wiped the wine glass in his hand with a handkerchief, then took out a bottle of strong liquor from the wine cabinet at the back and poured it directly into the glass, then drank the liquor in the glass in one gulp.

There were only these two people in the deserted tavern. The atmosphere was tense and tense at the moment. Neither of them spoke. After a long while, Brad, the leader of the Blackwater Party, spoke:

"Sir Shadow, I am sincere about this deal. This is my last chess piece. I can't wait any longer... cough cough cough..."

Brad suddenly lowered his head, covered his mouth and started coughing, as if he was going to cough out his lungs. Just when Brad was recovering, the man in black robe finally spoke.

"As long as everything is done according to the ritual, there will be no problem," said the man in black robe.

"This is the third time." Brad placed the glass on the bar, and the bottom of the glass hit the wooden bar with a dull sound. "First, my son, then my brother, and then my nephew. After tomorrow, I will have no relatives left, Mr. Shadow! Are you sure this is all part of the ritual?"

"The point isn't family, it's emotions, Brad." The black-robed figure known as the Shadow tapped his fingers lightly on the bar counter and said gravely, "You have no feelings for their deaths. That's why the re-creation ritual failed."

"This time, I've spent half a year cultivating the relationship between you and your nephew. When he's killed, you'll have a more concrete impression of revenge, Brad."

Brad squeezed the cup hard, veins bulging on his old face. He stared intently at the shadow on the man's face in front of him as if trying to figure out something.

Brad is known for his ruthlessness, but he has always been careful. In order to fight for a position in this chaotic area, he can sell out everything, not to mention family and friendship.

If there is something that can make him retaliate without reason or recklessly after losing something, it may be his own life and wealth.

No.

And there was this strange man in black robe in front of him who had taken away almost all of his life savings and who claimed that he could give people powers beyond ordinary people.

If he failed again this time, he swore that no matter what was under the black robe, he would fill it with pistol bullets and burn it.

"You want to kill me?" The black-robed man chuckled and said, "Just for this little money? If you put all this money into the donation box, the extraordinary people in the church won't even look at you."

The man in the black robe reached out and slowly took off his hood. The warm light from the gas lamp shone on his face, illuminating the lines of flesh on his face that were wriggling as if they had life.

The buds of flesh waved back and forth against his skin like tiny tentacles, swinging wildly as if trying to tear through his cheek and escape.

The horrifying scene that could not be explained by common sense shocked Brad again. Those silent little creatures seemed to be making sharp chirping sounds, making Brad's brain slow down.

This is definitely someone with special abilities.

He was so sick that he was about to die, and he could indeed save himself.

As long as he follows his instructions and completes the ritual called "Revenge," he will also be able to possess the power of God...

Brad slowly loosened his grip on the cup and gradually calmed down.

"Boom-"

Suddenly, the sound of an object falling outside made Brad's body tremble slightly, and the black-robed man sitting in front of him quickly pulled up his hood and turned to look in the direction of the street - his hands were clenched into fists, as if he was angry at being interrupted.

"Your men?" the black-robed man asked Brad with some annoyance.

"Impossible! I've sent everyone away," Brad said, his mind still a little distracted, seemingly still struggling to recover from the emotional turmoil. He stared at the glass in his hand and said slowly, "Maybe someone from Pompeii has come to report."

"I'll go out and take a look." The man in black robe glanced in Brad's direction, knowing that the other party would not be able to react for a while, so he walked straight out the door.

"Jingle Bell--"

He reached out and pushed open the glass and wooden door of the tavern. The door leaf hit the bell and made a sound. He leaned outside and took a few glances, but did not see any figures on the dark street, and there were no pedestrians on the road.

The quiet street was filled with the sounds of mice or insects running by, and occasionally one could hear the snoring of people sleeping in the building next door. Everything was as peaceful as usual.

He had his back to the door of the tavern and did not remain calm in the tavern at all. Instead, he knelt on the ground in a very ungraceful manner. He took out a translucent reagent bottle from his robe with his left hand and inserted his right hand directly into the back of his throat.

"Well--!"

As his fingers stirred, his stomach twitched and squirmed as if stimulated by something.

Then, he swung his fist violently, punching his stomach again and again as if he didn't care about his life. Along with a mouthful of black blood, a flesh-colored, wriggling tentacle was directly spat out by him.

"Pap-ta-ta-ta-"

The tentacle twisted its body on the ground like a stranded fish, but the man in black robe quickly reached out, picked up the flesh-colored tentacle, and stuffed it into the bottle.

Through the light yellow translucent reagent bottle, you can see that the tentacles only occupy a small half of the reagent bottle, and part of it seems to have disappeared.

"Damn... failed again..." The shadow on the black-robed man's face had faded, revealing the thin, pale face of a middle-aged man underneath, who looked like skin and bones. The skin on his face had drooped and was as loose as that of a centenarian.

The bluish-white blood vessels bulged on his face, and his hair had long since fallen out, leaving only a fist-sized black and red follicle that looked like a parasitic egg. He looked like neither human nor ghost.

The man in black robe stood up staggeringly, covering his forehead with his right hand, as if he was fighting a severe headache.

After he slowly came to his senses, he glanced viciously at the deserted street, put away the reagent bottle in his hand, cursed under his breath, and returned to the tavern.

He put on his hood, lowered his head and sat back in his seat. He reached out and wiped the black blood from the corner of his mouth, and asked as if nothing had happened:

"How's the arrangement going, Brad?"

Brad, who was somewhat dazed, froze after hearing the question. After a long while, he seemed to remember something and replied in a daze, "...It's all right... They didn't notice a thing."

The conversation was repeated again, but unlike last time, the man in black robe did not continue to provoke Brad. He just used a guided conversation to let Brad repeat the next plan again.

"Jingle Bell--"

Just as the conversation was progressing and the man in black robe was about to lose his mind, he heard the sound of the glass and wooden door of the tavern being pushed open.

"Who?"

The man in black robe quickly turned his head to look at the door, but before he could completely turn his head towards the door, or even have a chance to explain, a bullet whizzed towards his chest accompanied by a gunshot.

"boom--!"

The intense pain made him fall to the ground, his whole body curled up like a shrimp. He suddenly looked towards the window and saw the beautiful red-haired girl in a black cloak, pointing a revolver at him with an expressionless face.

How could it be her? !

When Brad heard the gunshot, he was shocked, but he just stood there without making any movement.

The person who came was Charles.

To avoid missing a headshot with one bullet, she chose to shoot at the torso, which had the largest shooting area.

After knocking down the man in black robe, she quickly turned the gun towards Brad, aimed at the unresponsive Brand and fired a shot.

"boom--"

The bullet left the gun with a cloud of smoke. The bullet, originally aimed at the chest, deviated at the moment it left the gun and whizzed into Brad's throat.

"Pfft-"

A large amount of blood mixed with bubbles spurted out of his throat. His eyes, which had been gradually concentrating, became blurred again. He covered his throat with his hands and slowly fell down the bar.

At this moment, Charles did not relax at all. With only one bullet left, she quickly changed hands, holding the revolver against her temple with her left hand, and took out a sharp knife with her right hand, carefully moving towards the direction of the man in black robe.

To avoid failure, she saved the last bullet for herself - to ensure a peaceful death.

Chapter 8: Night of Boiling Blood

How did she come to my door? !

She should have died without knowing anything!

The man in black robe looked at the girl in front of him in horror. His brain, which was already in severe pain, was unable to think of how the girl could find this place by following the clues.

And that red-haired girl, after blowing Brad's head off with a precise shot, actually turned the gun towards herself... Is she fucking crazy?

No...if he is not a madman, then there is another possibility.

Anyone who does such weird and unusual things must be either a madman or an extraordinary person.

But how is this possible?

This was the lamb Brad had carefully selected for the ritual. It had absolutely no background or connections, and no one would care if it died. How could it have completed the re-creation ritual? What path had it taken?

Could it be that...the ordinariness she displayed before was also part of the recurrence ritual?

Watching the girl slowly walk towards him, the man in black robe knew he couldn't delay any longer.

His resurrection ritual has not been completed yet, and he doesn't want to die here!

The man in black robe no longer hesitated. Using the cover of the black robe, he reached his hand into his robe and crushed the container test tube containing the flesh-colored tentacles.

The translucent test tube shattered, and the broken fragments cut the skin of his fingers, and the flesh-colored tentacle, like a worm, swung its body and drilled towards his wound.

"Wait a minute... Ma'am... Your Excellency!"

"I... I have a complete set of notes and potions for the re-creation ritual. I can give them to you directly! As an apology for my ignorance!"

The black-robed man looked up at the red-haired girl, and his shriveled, ugly face began to be filled with fine flesh buds again...

......

Charles' heart rate rose slightly as he looked at the black-robed man lying half-dead on the ground.

Just now, when the man in black robe was shot and fell to the ground, his hood was blown off, revealing his hideous and disgusting head.

Cheeks that were so thin that they were out of shape, skin that drooped and could not cover the muscles and bones at all, and tumors on the top of the head that were like pustules, pulsating one after another.

Just one look was enough to make people feel scared from the bottom of their hearts, and the steps that were originally approaching him gradually stopped.

The appearance of this half-human, half-ghost creature opposite him made Charles begin to doubt whether the guns and blades in his hands could cause him any substantial harm.

In the moment of hesitation, the black-robed man in front of him supported the ground with one hand and said tremblingly: