The pitch-black doorway gaped wide open, like a ravenous maw greedily anticipating its meal, welcoming the arrival of Silas and his group.
"Dream entry failed. Get ready, we're going in," Edward instructed everyone upon seeing this.
"Against a Sequence 6 Rose Bishop, be careful of their flesh and blood; any of it could turn into a bomb.
Pay special attention to the mental pollution from the True Creator. Don't look at what you shouldn't look at, don't listen to what you shouldn't hear!"
His gaze lingered especially on Silas, because, theoretically speaking, Silas was the one most susceptible to influence.
Don't worry, I actually have a cheat code.
Of course, Silas didn't say this out loud. He simply nodded to show he understood.
Following behind Edward and the others, he cautiously entered the building thick with the stench of blood.
Once inside, the smell of blood wasn't as heavy. Instead, it was replaced by a peculiar fragrance.
The lighting wasn't as dim as it had appeared from outside, either. Everything was bathed in a dark shade of red, and under this glow, one could just barely make out the furnishings inside.
They stood in a great hall.
Staircases led upward on both sides, while the rear half of the building was blocked by a door.
This door stood half-open, emitting a red glow from within, the only source of light in the room.
In front of the door sat a woman. She wore a white robe, her figure curvaceous. Because she was backlit, the glow from behind the door framed her in a red border.
And her face was extraordinarily beautiful.
Yes, even though they were currently in an adversarial situation, Silas had to admit that her appearance ranked among the most beautiful women he'd ever seen, comparable even to his sister Cecilia.
Her blood-red hair cascaded loosely down, her features delicate and soft, her lips rather thin, seemingly carrying a perpetual gentle smile.
Yet her golden eyes radiated a cold light, as if they were a pair of beautiful, emotionless orbs cast from inorganic metal.
Contradictory. That was Silas's first impression of her, like sweet honey mixed with violent poison, or like an innocent young girl carrying the oppressive aura of someone in power.
"Welcome."
She looked at everyone, speaking with a gentle and mild tone as she smiled.
Lounging lazily in a chair, she didn't attack proactively, as if she truly were the master of this place, welcoming the arrival of guests.
Just then, Silas suddenly felt the people beside him shudder violently, followed by an eruption of rage, as if they'd seen something utterly unacceptable.
Following their line of sight, Silas's gaze fell upon the chair the woman was sitting in.
What's wrong with the chair? It's just a lighter color, looks like it's made of leather... Holy shit!
Following the chair's backrest downward, Silas suddenly spotted something unbelievable on the armrest.
The special pattern there, which he'd originally thought was some kind of relief carving, turned out upon closer inspection to be a human face.
Moreover, he'd seen this face before. It seemed to belong to one of the members of the investigation squad Edward had sent out!
This face wasn't embedded in the chair but naturally fused into it. Which meant this chair was...
Silas suddenly felt an unprecedented sense of revulsion. Because he saw that the face was actually moving, opening its eyes and seeing Edward and the others across from it.
"Captain!"
The face spoke, calling out to Edward. "Mark and the others have been controlled! You need to be careful, she is..."
"Tap, tap."
A segment of pristine, porcelain-white fingers wearing a crimson rose ring lightly tapped twice on the forehead of that face, interrupting his words.
"Exposing a lady's secrets isn't the behavior of a gentleman," said the owner of those hands, the red-haired woman, as she gently stroked his forehead, speaking in an enchanting voice that seemed to carry magical power.
"Besides, you should tell your captain something more important, shouldn't you?"
The urgency in that face's eyes vanished, replaced by an expression of extreme agony.
"Captain."
His eyes were full of pain, yet his mouth curved into a smile. "Please allow me to introduce you to the great Lord, the True..."
"Bang!"
A sudden gunshot shattered the unbearable atmosphere in the room. A bullet hole appeared in the center of the armrest face, ending his suffering.
Edward tucked his cane under his armless stump while his other hand steadily held the revolver, smoke rising from the muzzle, the gun's grip creaking in his grasp.
"Captain Edward, please calm down. She did that on purpose..."
Silas spoke up, only now realizing how heavy his own breathing had become.
"I know."
Edward said calmly, his tone cold as ice.
He looked at the stunning woman across from him and slowly asked, "You're Ma'am M of the Aurora Order?"
"That's right. It's me."
"Where are your other subordinates?"
"They've already gone before me, returning to the great embrace of our Lord."
"You mean you just sacrificed them. How noble you make it sound."
Edward sneered.
"You don't understand," Ma'am M sighed faintly. "We are all humble servants of the great Lord..."
"Thud!"
In that instant, without warning, Edward lowered his revolver.
His remaining right hand gripped the black "Staff of Chaos" and struck the ground forcefully.
The staff's tip made a sound against the floor, and at the same moment, the air around Ma'am M suddenly twisted. Her aura visibly weakened before their eyes.
It's the distortion effect of the "Staff of Chaos."
Edward used Ma'am M's own words, amplifying and distorting the meaning of "humble servants" and applying it to her, actually reducing her strength for a short time!
The latter half of Ma'am M's sentence was cut off. She lowered her head, sensing the changes in herself, but showed no signs of anger or panic. She merely smiled and said, "Very clever..."
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
The Nighthawks weren't about to waste this precious opportunity chatting with Ma'am M.
The instant her aura weakened, the other Nighthawks fired simultaneously. More than a dozen demon-hunting bullets poured into her body, riddling that curvaceous figure with countless bullet holes.
"Hiss..."
The demon-hunting bullets tore through Ma'am M's flesh, covering her white robe with holes and bloodstains.
The demon-hunting power suppressed her flesh, and her regenerative ability was restrained by her own words.
The granulation tissue writhed slowly, unable to heal in time.
Ma'am M seemed unable to react, swaying continuously under the gunfire, yet she didn't fall.
The effect isn't very obvious.
Silas stopped shooting, thinking to himself.
Just then, he saw Leon step forward, face full of hatred, raising an absurdly large-caliber revolver. Settling his stance and aiming at the enemy before him, he pulled the trigger.
"Boom!"
With an explosive sound almost like a cannonball, Ma'am M's arm snapped off like a branch broken by wind, connected only by a few strips of flesh.
"Leon, keep firing! The rest of you, reload quickly!"
Edward commanded.
After enduring the assault for so long, Ma'am M finally began to move during a gap in the attacks.
She reached up, tore off her own pale arm, and hurled it toward them.
That severed arm began to swell in midair, threatening to explode at any moment!