The moment the question was thrown out, the air in the car seemed to solidify for half a second.
Riley's fingers on the steering wheel tightened almost imperceptibly, the faint blue veins on her fair hand slightly protruding.
She didn't answer immediately.
Her gaze remained fixed straight ahead on the empty road illuminated by the headlights, her jawline tensing for a moment.
The light and shadows outside the window quickly flitted across her face, alternating between bright and dark, making it impossible to discern the true emotions in her eyes.
A few seconds of silence felt extraordinarily long.
Finally, her throat moved, and her voice was slightly lower than usual, carrying a deliberately maintained flatness.
"...Friends."
She uttered two words, paused, then, as if emphasizing or confirming something, added, "You are my... only friend."
Only friend.
Serie was slightly startled. She turned her head, looking fully at Riley's profile.
In the dimness, Riley's outline appeared somewhat blurred, only her tightly pressed lips revealing a hint of imperceptible stiffness.
"That's it?" Serie instinctively pressed, her tone tinged with surprise, and even... a hint of indescribable disappointment?
As if this answer was too simple, too... insufficient.
Hearing this counter-question, Riley's tense lips suddenly relaxed.
She let out an extremely short, light chuckle, tinged with self-mockery and a teasing edge. She quickly glanced at Serie, her eyes surprisingly bright in the dim light, filled with playful mockery: "Otherwise? What answer do you want to hear?"
Her voice trailed off slightly, with a playful upward inflection.
Before Serie could answer.
Screech—CRUNCH!
Without warning, she slammed her foot on the brake.
The powerful inertia violently threw both their bodies forward, only for the seatbelts to pull them back tightly against their seats.
The rapidly flowing neon lights outside the window, the low roar of the engine, and the subtle, indescribable atmosphere between them were utterly shattered and brought to an abrupt halt by this brutal emergency stop.
Riley didn't look at Serie; instead, she turned her head, her gaze piercing through the front windshield, directed towards the cluster of buildings shrouded in darkness nearby.
"We're here."
Before them was a cheap motel.
The sign flickered weakly, its dim light barely illuminating the potholed concrete ground at the entrance.
Several rows of matchbox-like bungalows lined up in the deeper shadows, most of their windows dark.
Silence, a deathly silence.
Only the faint sound of traffic from the distant highway emphasized the desolation of the place.
"Let's go." Serie pushed open the car door, and the cool night breeze immediately rushed in.
The small emotional ripple from inside the car had been completely overridden by the calm focus brought by the task at hand.
At the same time, the door to Room 303 was violently pushed open, and a burly, hairy middle-aged man stumbled out through the gap.
He mumbled slurred curses, like a drunken lion, shuffling towards the foul-smelling public restroom at the end of the hallway.
Moments later, he returned, holding up his loose pants, swaying unsteadily down the dim corridor.
The old, ill-maintained sound-activated light above his head suddenly began to flicker wildly, like a candle in the wind, with his heavy footsteps.
What's going on?
The man frowned in confusion, his drunken eyes not even having time to adjust to the light.
But suddenly, a death premonition, stemming from primal instinct, instantly awakened his sluggish nerves!
It wasn't something he saw, but a sense of absolute oppression caused by a high-speed object tearing through the air, something beyond vision, making his hair stand on end.
Something! To the left! Very close!
He couldn't even fully form the thought; his right hand, accustomed to killing, its muscle memory faster than any thought, shot up with astonishing speed, lightning-fast, grabbing at the bulging holster at his waist.
His cerebral cortex, the alarm signal had only just ignited its first neuron—
Zzz—BOOM!!!
No process! No warning! Not even a single moment for reaction!
Just as his fingertips touched the gun handle, a purplish-blue electric python, as thick as a baby's arm, struck him directly.
The crackling explosion of electricity tearing through flesh, muscle, and bone drowned out the half-gasp he had just managed to squeeze from his throat!
Reflected in his horrified pupils were the slightly upturned fingertips of a young woman, casual to the point of laziness.
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