"Bang, bang, bang!"
Germain looked up at the brightly lit corridor's other half, where he saw the third assassin unleashing five "Nen balls" from his arms.
These orbs ricocheted off the narrow walls, steadily closing in on Germain's position.
It seemed that the assassin could only launch five "Nen balls" at a time, and there was a brief reloading period in between. This gave Germain an opportunity.
He made the shotgun in his left hand disappear, then grabbed the collar of the first assassin whose throat he'd slashed earlier. Lifting the body, he used it as a human shield to intercept the incoming orbs.
Two of the "Nen balls" passed over Germain's head, while the remaining three struck the dead assassin, leaving deep indentations in his skull, chest, and leg.
Now was his chance.
Germain pushed the corpse to the ground and launched himself at the third assassin. As he'd anticipated, the third assassin couldn't shoot more "Nen balls" at him right away.
The assassin drew his black cloak tight around him like a vampire fearing sunlight. As Germain rushed toward him, he saw the fear in the assassin's eyes.
The assassin shakily pulled a pistol from his pocket, aiming at Germain. But before he could fire, a sharp "click" rang out. Germain's saw blade instantly extended and doubled in length!
The distance between them closed quickly.
"Bang!"
The assassin fired in panic, but Germain dodged to his lower right, then slashed upward with his elongated saw blade. With a clean "swish," the assassin's hands, still clutching the pistol, fell to the ground.
"Ah... aaahhhh!"
The pistol and severed hands landed with a thud, and the assassin screamed, clutching his bleeding stumps, spraying blood like a fountain.
Germain didn't hesitate. He pressed his gun to the assassin's abdomen and pulled the trigger without mercy.
"Bang!"
The assassin's scream cut off abruptly as he crumpled to the ground like a piece of discarded paper. There was only a thin strip of flesh holding his body together—he was essentially torn in half. There was no way he'd survive that.
Only one more assassin left to deal with.
"Tap, tap, tap..."
Germain heard the heavy sound of footsteps approaching.
He stood in the well-lit part of the corridor, his eyes darting back to the darkened area. Several figures lurked in the shadows, their silhouettes shifting and blurring.
Counting quickly, he noted eight people in total. Among them were the hotel owner, two assassins who were thought to be dead, and five other tenants.
They dragged their feet like zombies, but as soon as they saw Germain, their pace quickened. Their sluggish movements turned into a determined shuffle, as if they were preparing to pounce on him.
"Is the last one a 'Manipulation Type'? Is the enemy hidden among these eight people?"
Germain clutched his Firearm in his left hand and a cleaver in his right. He knew better than to rush into battle without identifying the true threat. He was cautious, refusing to risk exposing himself to a hidden puppet master.
Suddenly, he felt something off. His instincts kicked in, and he turned his head toward the staircase leading to the second floor.
A small head with blonde twin tails peeked out from the stairs. When the person realized she'd been seen, she stepped forward, hands on her hips and a playful grin on her face.
It was Biscuit Krueger, or "Bisky."
Germain relaxed, lowering his weapons.
Bisky gave him a small wave, her expression half amused, half exasperated, as she hurried over.
"Haven't you dealt with the enemy yet? Do I need to remind you—"
"Bang!"
Germain raised his Firearm and fired without hesitation.
Bisky's expression shifted from surprise to shock. She fell to the floor like a broken doll, blood spreading across the floorboards.
"Puff, puff, puff..."
All eight manipulated bodies dropped to the ground. The dead ones stayed still, while the living ones were dazed, blinking in confusion as they slowly picked themselves up.
Germain didn't even glance at the chaos around him. Instead, his gaze remained fixed on Bisky, whose bloodied body began to change before his eyes.
Her skeleton expanded, stretching and shifting until it transformed into the compact frame of a short man.
The man held his shattered jaw, broken by the blast of Germain's Firearm, attempting to speak but unable to form words. His eyes, wide with desperation, communicated his fear and shock, punctuated by incoherent sobs.
Germain stared at this face for a moment, then recalled seeing him earlier. As he'd exited the bank, this man had been among the bystanders watching Bisky's performance.
He'd seemed unremarkable, blending into the crowd. No one could have guessed that he was the leader of a gang of four assassins.
Disguise was this assassin's trademark skill.
He had disguised himself as Bisky because she was a well-known Hunter within the Hunter Association. The assassin had spotted her in passing but was unsure if he'd recognized her correctly.
He double-checked on the dark web to confirm. While tailing Germain and Bisky, he couldn't get close enough to overhear their conversation, but he saw that they appeared to have a friendly rapport.
He made the logical assumption that they were cooperating on something.
It's not unusual for Hunters to team up with people from the underworld for certain tasks.
The assassin leader had a similar build to Bisky, so he chose to disguise himself as her, hoping to get close to Germain without arousing suspicion, then launch a sneak attack.
But Germain was quicker.
The assassin leader couldn't understand where he'd made a mistake. Germain, however, felt no need to explain. He simply raised his Firearm, aimed at the man's head, and fired.
The shot tore through the man's hands, which he had lifted in a futile attempt to shield himself, before blasting through his skull with a loud "bang."
The assassin's head split open like a cracked egg, his body collapsing to the ground without a sound.
The hunt concluded with Germain's victory.
"Clap, clap, clap..."
The sound of rhythmic applause came from Germain's room. Bisky, who had always maintained a calm composure, stepped out from the shadows, wearing white lace gloves and smiling. She seemed genuinely pleased with Germain's accomplishment.
After a moment, she asked with a hint of curiosity, "How did you know he was a fake? I almost thought he was going to succeed back there."
Germain's answer was unexpected. "I didn't know," he replied. "I just sensed there was a fourth person nearby, someone with Manipulation Type Nen, and I was ready to shoot whoever it was. Turns out it was you."
Bisky nodded thoughtfully and raised a finger to her lips. "But what if it had really been me?" she asked.
"If it had been you, I wouldn't have shot," Germain replied. He knew the difference in strength between him and Bisky. She was in her fifties but still retained much of her skill.
Bisky nodded again. "Patient, calm, decisive, and not lost in the thrill of killing. You truly are a 'Hunter'."
She glanced back at the other onlookers in the hallway and smiled. "Looks like we can't stay here. Let's find another place to rest."
"Wait a moment," Germain replied, sheathing his meat cleaver and holstering his Firearm. He didn't refuse Bisky's offer; following her might bring unexpected opportunities, but he had more immediate concerns.
Under Bisky's puzzled gaze, Germain crouched and rummaged through the belongings of the dead assassin leader. He pulled out thousands of Jenny in currency notes.
Bisky raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"Are you short on cash?" she asked.
"Not quite," Germain replied, continuing to search through the bodies of the other three assassins. "Just need to be prepared. Future expenses could be steep."
Once he collected all the cash, he clicked his tongue in satisfaction. Over 20,000 Jenny—quite the haul. He whistled at his good fortune and slipped the money into his wallet.
********
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