"A twisted man walked a twisted path; holding a twisted sixpence, he stepped onto twisted stairs; he bought a crooked, twisted cat, which caught a crooked, twisted rat; they all lived together in a crooked, twisted little house."
Hewitt hummed a tune, carving intricate patterns on his shotgun with a knife.
There are many ways for a demon hunter to survive.
Hewitt's method was one that his kind found distasteful.
He always claimed that he relied on wisdom and knowledge to set traps targeting the weaknesses of demons, fooling them to their death.
Of course, this was not his real way of dealing with demons.
More important than that for a demon hunter is a weapon capable of harming demons.
His weapon was forbidden knowledge and tools.
These so-called taboos were not scary in appearance, and for demon hunters, as long as they could kill demons, they did not care how dirty and despicable the means were.
Taboos were things that could lead humans to become evil and mad, and most naturally good people would be tainted by them. Even if they did not fall, they would suffer from mental illness, ultimately taking their own lives in agony or falling into eternal madness.
Even ordinary evildoers could not escape their influence.
Hewitt showed a wicked grin and raised his shotgun, "Hahahaha, with this, all monsters and evildoers will fall at my feet!"
When by himself, Hewitt occasionally indulged in lonely performances.
There were a few people in the world who were completely immune to the influence of taboo powers and Hewitt was one of them.
The bullets in the shotgun were a mix of lead and silver, capable of not only causing great damage to demons but also inhibiting their latent healing abilities.
Ancient enchantments were engraved on the gunstock of the shotgun, different from the magic writings of mages, these enchantments were more primitive, direct, and powerful.
If necessary, this shotgun could devour the souls of enemies, though ordinary people using it would risk having their own souls devoured first.
This was his offensive means, and he did not need defensive ones.
He would not die.
In the years when he was a demon hunter, he was not immortal. The reason he did not fear death was simple.
He had been dead for some time now.
All this was not prepared for Hela, but for the monster that Jimmy encountered.
He planned to take Hela to a safe place first, then plan to deal with those who imprisoned her.
"Hmm, I need to make more preparations. The old demon hunter mustn't fail when he's back in action, or else it'd be a disgrace."
Once there were monsters, the demon hunter activated the previously prepared Magic Array, preventing them from entering the town. But there was one worst possibility.
It was already in the town.
Jimmy didn't sleep a wink last night.
After encountering the monster, he found it difficult to sleep well.
He was not afraid of the monster itself, but of a possibility.
A possibility he didn't even want to think about deeply.
That night, his father blocked the storeroom door with his plump body, preventing him from entering. Was he trying to conceal something? But why would he want to conceal something?
And why, when he closed the curtains, turned off the lights, and lay in bed pretending to sleep, did his father never return to his room, not even for the entire night?
Jimmy asked his mother, and she had spent that night sleeping in the shop because of being too busy. She had told her husband beforehand that she wouldn't be coming home that night.
So Ogden, Jimmy's father, couldn't possibly have been waiting for her mother.
Jimmy hinted cryptically at his guess to his sister Nellie, but she also refused to believe it.
The blonde boy pressed his eyebrows, not knowing what to do. He initially wanted to tell Hewitt his suspicions, but was chased away by the mayor before he could speak.
Jimmy comforted himself by saying:
"At least I invited him to the banquet, and my father didn't stop him, so maybe I'm just being too suspicious."
On the other side of the wall in the downstairs kitchen, Ogden blankly held a knife and processed the beef bought from the town. The silver-white blade slipped precisely into the meat, cutting it into nearly identical slices.
Hearing his wife Rebecca's footsteps approaching, an appropriate smile appeared on Ogden's face, and he said enthusiastically, "I'm looking forward to this banquet."
Rebecca wrapped her arms around her husband's belly and said:
"Hehe, the Hewitt you're fond of, I have to test him well, be the gatekeeper for our daughter, and respect Nellie's thoughts, no matter how much you like him."
Ogden stroked his wife's hands resting on his stomach and said:
"Of course, my little fairy."
Rebecca blushed and pinched her husband's shoulder; this was how he called her when they were young:
"Hmph, let Jimmy and Nellie go to bed early tonight. I'll punish you properly."
In the room adjacent to Jimmy's, Nellie reflected on her actions that day.
The girl in pajamas was somewhat puzzled, wondering if she had really misunderstood Hewitt.
"No, if I really misunderstood him, why didn't he tell me? I clearly asked him well, but he didn't answer."
Nellie's eyes were firm as she moved her fair little feet to the edge of the bed:
"Unless he sincerely apologizes to me, I will never forgive him, hmph!"
Meanwhile, at Hewitt's home,
Hela's hair was cut to five centimeters above her shoulders and dyed completely black. Wearing a beautiful white dress, she looked completely different from before.
Hela asked with some worry:
"Will they really not find out like this?"
"Of course, tomorrow I'll take you to a banquet so you can familiarize yourself with a normal life."
Hela's eyes sparkled with excitement, and she asked:
"A banquet, with lots of delicious food? I've read in books about banquets with all kinds of food I've never seen before. And are there dances too? Can I dance with Hewitt? Can I still learn it now?"
"Wait, wait, the one we're attending is just a private banquet for my friend's sister's advancement celebration. Where did you see all this?"
Hela put on an innocent expression:
"The books on the shelf, I've been reading them while you weren't at home."
"Dancing is usually an invitation to the opposite sex you like, and while there are more innocent social dances, ones between people of different generations, like you and I, are generally not danced together. At least not in my time. You should find someone your age to dance with."
Hela retorted discontentedly:
"I like Hewitt too."
"It's not the same kind of liking. Sigh, never mind, you'll understand eventually."