The Werewolf’s Mystic Lore

chapter5

The instant our eyes met, I saw her retreat a step in terror.

“Who… who is she?” Xin’er asked cautiously from behind me.

“She…?” I faltered for a moment before turning sharply. “Be quiet. Pack your things. Now.”

Xin’er pouted, knowing this was no time for defiance, and turned away to gather her precious belongings.

I walked toward Yan’er, though every step felt unbearably heavy. She stood there, summoning every ounce of courage merely to keep herself from turning and fleeing.

“Yan’er…”

I did not know what else to say.

She gazed into my eyes, and slowly, tears welled up and spilled down her cheeks. “I know… you’re not a bad person,” she whispered through trembling sobs.

A sharp ache twisted through my chest, equal parts tenderness and sorrow. Lowering my voice, I said, “You need to leave. They may come back.”

Hunters never harmed ordinary humans. Their obsession was reserved solely for creatures like us.

“Mm…” she answered softly. Then suddenly, she stepped forward, rose onto her toes, and brushed her lips lightly against my cheek.

I felt the warmth of her fragrant breath sweep across my skin, and my entire body shuddered.

“...I’m leaving now.”

Her face flushed crimson as she looked at me. Step by step, she backed away until she reached the stairwell, then turned and ran downstairs.

I remained rooted to the spot, murmuring blankly, “She kissed me…”

“Yes, she did,” Xin’er said sourly behind me, shoving me once. “Silver Heron Eight-Treasure Porridge, can we go now?”

“Ah—yes, yes, of course.”

My face burned faintly red as I grabbed her hand. We hurried downstairs, hastily gathered a few belongings, and rushed out of the building.

A minivan happened to be waiting outside. I pulled Xin’er toward it. “Driver, the train station.”

“Sure. Get in.”

We climbed aboard, and the vehicle rolled into motion. Yet almost immediately, something felt wrong.

The train station was far from here. Drivers usually negotiated the fare beforehand instead of using the meter. In the reflection of the rearview mirror, I noticed sweat glistening on the driver’s face. But tonight was cool—far too cool for sweating.

He was nervous.

He was a hunter.

Feigning exhaustion, I reclined against the back seat and quietly took Xin’er’s hand, tracing two words into her palm: hunter. Then I pointed subtly toward the front.

She trembled slightly before instantly regaining composure. After all, she was our godfather’s daughter; she knew how vital calmness was in moments like this.

The van turned abruptly onto a narrow side road. My suspicions hardened into certainty.

“Driver, isn’t this the wrong way? The station isn’t down this road,” I asked innocently.

“No mistake. This is a shortcut. Saves us the detour.”

“Really?” I smiled faintly. “Tell me… does being a hunter pay well?”

His entire body jerked in shock.

That was enough.

Before he could react, I struck the back of his head with my palm. The driver collapsed unconscious over the wheel.

At the same moment, Xin’er lunged forward to seize the steering wheel. I vaulted over the seat, dragged the hunter aside, and took control of the van myself.

We had barely exhaled in relief when Xin’er suddenly screamed, “Watch out ahead—!”

Bang—!

The van slammed violently into a bizarre barricade of piled tires blocking the road. The impact nearly tore the vehicle apart.

“Xin’er, stay down!”

Ignoring the pain surging through my body, I kicked open the door and leapt from the opposite side of the van.

Instantly, several muffled shots struck the open door with dull thuds.

Those bastards brought guns.

I shot forward like an arrow. The terrain was an open clearing with almost no cover whatsoever. They had chosen this place carefully for an ambush.

The moment I straightened, bullets screamed through the air. In an instant, I identified three firing positions—two nearby, one elevated.

I twisted aside, narrowly avoiding the barrage, though one bullet still grazed my left shoulder. I felt the wound close almost immediately. After transformation, a werewolf’s regenerative powers rendered ordinary bullets nearly useless against us.

But Xin’er had not transformed yet.

I had to kill them before they realized she was vulnerable.

A gust of wind swept past as I surged toward one hunter crouched behind a low wall. One kick shattered his jaw. At that same moment, the sniper above struck my back with another shot.

Suppressing a growl of agony, I charged onward.

A werewolf might survive bullets, but pain was another matter entirely.

Another hunter rose from cover and opened fire wildly in my direction. I curved through the space between us in a sweeping arc, reached him in an instant, and seized his weapon—an XM1014. Heavy recoil, mediocre accuracy.

One punch dropped him unconscious. I snatched the shotgun and fired toward the sniper concealed high among the trees.

Only when the magazine was nearly empty did I hear a scream, followed by the heavy crash of a body falling from above.

I exhaled slowly and rose to my feet, walking back toward Xin’er’s van.

But just before reaching it, I caught the unmistakable scent of danger—

—the faint click of a trigger being pulled.

I ducked instinctively, but too late. A burst of fire erupted from the rear compartment of the van and tore through my left leg.

Blinding pain exploded through me, accompanied by a horrifying weakness unlike anything I had ever known.

Silver bullets.

Only silver could inflict fatal wounds upon a werewolf. I had been careless.

Inside the van, Xin’er cried out in terror. She had smelled the burning silver and immediately understood the danger I was in.

With a violent crash, she burst through the car door and tackled me sideways into the dirt.

A hail of bullets hammered the ground behind us.

“Ah—!” Xin’er gasped softly. She had been hit.

I rolled over instantly, shielding her beneath my body.

Xin’er was my godfather’s only daughter. My only sister.

Then the rear compartment swung open.

I turned to see a hunter clad in black step out smugly, gun raised and aimed directly at us.

He kept his distance deliberately, far enough that I could not pounce. My wounded leg made acceleration impossible.

“It’s all over. Game over…” he sneered, slowly extending his arm to take aim.

I closed my eyes and whispered softly,

“I’m sorry, Xin’er…”