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墨書 Inktalez
Rain's body arced awkwardly through the air before crashing heavily onto the floor with a dull thud.
His back slammed against the corner of a nearby table, curling up on the ground as he coughed painfully, spitting out bright red streaks of blood.
His trembling hand pressed against the floor, as if trying to push himself up, but his body refused to obey.
Rain's chest heaved violently, his pupils dilating, beads of cold sweat covering his forehead. The confident smile that once adorned his face was replaced by an unfamiliar terror.
He was afraid.
Carter halted abruptly at the sight, standing over Rain and looking down at the man who had once stood on a glamorous stage.
This was the first time Carter had seen such an expression in Rain's eyes—no longer playful or composed, but pure fear, a primal instinct for survival.
In that instant, he realized he could not kill Rain now.
That would be too easy for him.
He wanted this man to live, to suffer in fear, to struggle in worry and unease.
He wanted Rain to understand that from now on, he was no longer the only hunter in this city; now, he had become the prey.
Carter looked down at Rain, a strange smile suddenly curling at the corners of his mouth, and then he burst into laughter.
The sound echoed throughout the office—deep, manic, filled with an indescribable excitement and mockery.
Rain sat slumped on the ground, pale-faced and trembling as he stared at Carter, seemingly unable to comprehend what this man found so amusing.
Carter slowly crouched down, extending a finger to point at Rain, then said cheerfully—
"I know how to take control of this city now."
Rain's face instantly turned even paler, his lips trembling slightly as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, he remained silent.
Carter glanced back at him one last time, gently patted Rain's cheek, then stood up and turned to leave.
His steps were calm, without a hint of hesitation, as if he had already found a new direction.
The office door swung open, and Carter's figure disappeared into the hallway, leaving Rain slumped on the floor, his face filled with terror, trembling as he watched Carter's retreating back.
The secretary stumbled to his feet, still feeling a dull pain in his abdomen, but he disregarded his injury and hurried to Rain's side, reaching out to support him.
Rain's legs felt weak, his chest heaving violently, sweat beading on his forehead as he trembled and braced himself against the desk to stand upright.
Blood still stained the corner of his mouth, his complexion pale, but the fear in his eyes gradually faded, replaced by deep anger and humiliation.
How could Carter treat him like this?
He was Francis Rain, the ruler of this city. No one could treat him this way, and no one could threaten him and walk away unscathed!
He glared fiercely at the doorway; Carter's figure had already vanished at the end of the corridor, yet his fists were clenched tightly in anger, knuckles white and veins bulging.
"Phone!"
His voice trembled with fury, almost a shout.
The secretary immediately reacted, quickly pulling out his phone from his pocket and handing it over with both hands.
Rain took the phone with shaking hands, his fingers swiftly navigating through the contacts before dialing a number.
"Hello!" As soon as the call connected, Rain nearly roared, like an enraged beast. "You listen to me carefully!"
"Carter! That son of a bitch Carter! I want you to capture him! Right now! Immediately! Bring him to me!"
"I don't care what methods you use; I want to see him kneeling in front of me! Do you understand?!"
Rain's fist slammed down on the table, causing the glass cup to topple over and spill water everywhere, but no one dared to speak.
The secretary stood nearby, her face darkened, yet she remained silent.
A low voice came from the other end of the line, tinged with hesitation. "Mr. Ryan, this... Carter has always been your man. If we take action... could it affect—"
"Affect what?!" Rain interrupted furiously. "He just tried to kill me! If you don't handle this now, you'll be the next one dead!"
There was a brief silence on the other end before a respectful and subdued response came through. "Understood, Mr. Ryan. We will handle it immediately."
Rain forcefully hung up the phone, his hand still trembling around the device as his chest heaved violently.
He had never hated anyone as much as he hated Carter at this moment.
Carter returned home, closed the door, leaned his head against the cold wooden surface, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.
He already knew what he had to do.
This city was dead, rotten to the core, like a corpse laid out under the sun, with pus and blood flowing in the streets, maggots crawling up the skyscrapers. Even the air was thick with a damp stench, filled with the essence of sin and decay.
But he could destroy it.
Only fire can purify the filth, only ashes can give birth to new life. This city does not need more time—it needs to be completely burned to the ground.
He would make these scoundrels pay the price.
He wanted everyone to know that the trash here must be cleared, that the tumors here must be incinerated, and that the dirt here must be cleansed by fire.
For Keisha.
For the "better future" she believed in, even if that future could only arise from ashes.
Carter walked into the kitchen, opened the cabinet, and took out a can of gasoline. He twisted off the cap, and the familiar acrid smell hit him like a wave.
He hesitated not at all, silently pouring the liquid onto the floor in a solemn and devout manner, as if performing a religious ritual. The carpet, chairs, bed, and even his old coat became soaked with this substance that would consume everything.
The old picture frame on the wall oozed dark yellow stains, and the person in the photograph looked strange and ridiculous, as if it were someone else—someone who still believed in light, someone foolish enough to think this world could get better.
Now he knew that this world would not improve.
Only destruction could bring about true change.
As the last drop of gasoline fell, Carter slowly walked toward the door, pausing for a moment to look back at this room that had once been his sanctuary—now it would become the entrance to hell.
He pulled a match from his pocket and struck it against the side—
"Snap!"
The match ignited, its faint glow flickering in his eyes like some kind of mad omen.
He loosened his grip, and the flame fell to the ground, landing in the pool of gasoline—
Boom——!!!
Flames surged like a ravenous beast, instantly consuming everything in their path. The crimson tongues of fire rolled across the walls and ceiling, wooden furniture cracked and splintered, glass shattered under the intense heat, and curtains ignited, scattering ashes like the mournful cries of the dead.
But that was not enough.
Not enough!
Carter turned and stepped out of the room, tossing the lighter into the hallway. The flames quickly spread along the gasoline trails on the floor, igniting the stairs, engulfing the corridor, and setting ablaze the welcome mat in front of his neighbor's door, devouring the filthy apartment.
"Help!"
"Fire—!"
"Run!!"
Screams erupted in a cacophony of terror, frantic cries intertwining with violent coughs as black smoke rapidly filled the building. The firelight twisted and danced in the night, as if hell itself had opened its gates.
Carter stood at the entrance of the apartment, quietly observing it all.
People tried to escape, but the stairs had already been consumed by flames. Door frames collapsed under the heat, sealing off exits. The air was filled with desperate screams and pounding on door panels, mingled with cries of despair.
What kind of people were they?
Drug dealers? Prostitutes? Murderers? Thieves? Bullies who preyed on the weak and vulnerable?
He didn’t know, nor did he care.
They were all garbage of this city; they all deserved to die.
They were the ones that Keisha despised, the maggots that rotted this city from within.
Now, he was simply doing what needed to be done.
"Please...!"
A man's arm reached out from the window, his hand wildly waving as if trying to grasp something. But in the next moment, flames engulfed his arm, and he let out a piercing scream as he was dragged into the inferno.
The fire illuminated Carter's face, making his expression appear eerily calm.
"Keisha, this is a good thing, right?"
His voice was low, as if he were speaking directly to her.
In the distance, sirens wailed, and flashing red and blue lights pierced through the night.
Carter took one last look at the burning building, ensuring that the flames had consumed all chances of escape before turning away.
His shadow stretched long beneath the flames, resembling the arrival of death itself, taking away all sin and corruption.
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